I'll never eat guacamole again.

I just read one of the most unenjoyable books I've ever read--The Old Gringo by Carlos Fuentes. One of the (many) things I didn't like was his absurd imagery. One very tiny example of this was this sentence that the guy actually wrote (WARNING--You really don't have to read it.): "Arroyo's testicles were like furry little avocados."

Any writer who will actually pen a sentence that stupid (1) shouldn't be read (you see what these people are making me do), (2) shouldn't be published (in case he's a comedic writer--Fuentes is not), and (3) should probably be castrated.

I Was Tired.

Today, I got out of class and went to the library lobby. I was going to sit there, eat my lunch, and read my Frost poems. However, I was tired. You know how when your tired you sometimes daze off and just stare into space without actually seeing anything...I did that. After a while, I realized that I had been just staring straight ahead of me--at a girl. Then, I looked at the girl I had been looking at for so long to see what she looked like, and I saw what my eyes had been seeing--one outstanding looking girl. Seriously, she she was gorgeous (she looked a lot like the daughter on The Gilmore Girls). Anyway, she immediately looked over at me, gave me a slightly funny look, got her stuff together, and walked away pretty quickly.

It was pretty disappointing. If I was going to look like a pervert anyway, it would have been nice to have actually gotten more than a split-second glance at her.

The Rest of the Class Wasn't Any Better

During my sophomore year of college, I took a course on the Old Testament. The professor was an old man who had gone back to grad school after he retired just because he was bored and had 18 hours of coursework that qualified him to teach the course (I guess they couldn't get anybody else). Anyway, he had this theory. He thought that when God allowed the Israelites to cross the Red Sea, He must have really just made all of the reeds grow higher and more sturdy all of a sudden, and the Israelites walked across on top of the reeds. He supported this theory by pointing to the name of the sea. Obviously, "Red Sea" and "Reed Sea" only have a one-letter difference. Hence, the sea must have been called the "Reed Sea" after the crossing, and over time, that extra "e" got dropped.

The guy was completely serious.

I got and "A" in the course.

Something that Happened Today

Today, I was up at school, and I decided to go to one of the hiring presentations just to see what it was like. It was interesting...

I went to the room a couple of minutes before it started, and when I went in, I was glad to see a fellow grad student in there because I didn't want to be the only one. I said "Hi" to her, and she went on talking to the person she was talking to. I expected to visit with her for a second when she turned from that conversation, and then sit through the presentation. I sat down in one of the few seats open near the door, and a professor who I've never met came up and sat by me (obviously wanting to leave from the meating hurriedly afterward). That's when I noticed my friend slip out the door before the door shut for the beginning, leaving me as the only non-professor in the room. I considered leaving, and I probably could have slipped out, but since the professor had sat by me I felt a bit trapped. So, the doors shut, and the presentation started, and I began looking around. Not only was I the only non-Ph.d around, I realized I was dressed a bit differently. The professors were all dressed really formally. I was dressed in my Lemony Snicket Series of Unfortunate Events t-shirt, jeans with a hole in them, and a cap. That was fine with me. I've been bothered for a long time by the elitism of English departments, and I've planned to always "dress down" if I become a teacher (one professor I know, who wasn't there, always dresses kind of like I did (though no Lemony Snicket graphics)). Anyway, I was pretty much invisible. Even the professors I have this semester and had last semester ignored me. I did notice that the presenting professor kept looking at me. I'm not sure if she did that because it was easier for her to talk down to the obvious outsider than to talk to the colleagues who were there just to judge her or whether she kept looking at me because my shirt said in large letters, "Things Are Looking Worse." She might have taken it as a sign. I know I would have.

Thank God for ADD...

...at least in my friends. You see, one of the problems with blogging is that it's public. That's also a great benefit. In fact, there's no way I would keep up with any sort of journal if there wasn't an audience involved (other than myself). But the public nature of a blog has one big problem--it's difficult to complain. At least it's difficult to complain about people that you know may someday read your blog. But that's when I thank God for the ADD of my friends.

You see, when I created my blog I mentioned it to some of my friends and family, and a few of them actually went to read it. But they all came back with one big complaint. They couldn't read such long entries. Did I actually expect their attention spans to be long enough for them to read more than one paragraph (they didn't say this second comment in so many words, but I heard it anyway)? Anyway, their inability to read a long blog entry gives me a lot of freedom in my blogging.

I mean, this is the third paragraph, and I can basically say anything I want here. Those two white spaces that mark the beginning of each new paragraph appear as two great grand canyons to my friends. So, as long as I've written at least one paragraph for them to scan and a second paragraph for them to die in, I can write in this third paragraph anything I want about them, and they'll never read it. I can say about how annoying and stupid all of my friends are. I can gossip about them and complain about their frustrating habits, and they'll never get this far into my blog to actually read it. It will be even more gratifying to write these sorts of things because all of my true opinions about them will be right there for them to read if only their mind could handle the lack of flashing, shiny, moving things through two paragraphs.

So I thank God for my friends ADD. I've been given the freedom to write whatever I want, and I don't have to worry about anybody reading it (except maybe my sister, but she doesn't count--I tell any complaints and insults about her to her face).

Cheese

When my dad was little, he loved cheese, but his family couldn't afford to buy cheese very often. It became his childhood dream that when he grew up he would buy himself a whole piece of cheese and eat it.

He still likes cheese, but I still don't think that he eats enough of it. Next time I go home, I'm going to buy Dad some cheese. Maybe even some blue cheese (his favorite but definitely not mine).

Fasting

Well, I finished my first day of fasting yesterday. I have mentioned it in an earlier blog, but I guess I'll explain what I'm doing a little further. I've decided to fast one day per week this semester (Thursdays). On those days, I won't eat for twenty-four hours. My reasons for doing so are the normal ones for fasting. I'm fasting in order to further focus on the sufferings of hungry people and on the sufferings of Christ. It's clearly an inauthentic practice. No matter how hungry I feel, I cannot replicate the feelings of not having the prospect of a meal available. Furthermore, I'm only doing a one-day fast which isn't much of a sacrifice. Nevertheless, I think it's a discipline that I can develop and use to better myself and my ability to love. On the days I fast, I also will spend time praying, particularly for the poor and the hungry. Lastly, I plan to donate money for each day I fast ($10 per day) to a charity that provides hunger relief (most likely to Mercy Corps--which is in my links).

Anyway, I finished my twenty-four hours of fasting last night around 10:00, and I learned a few things through the day. First of all, I'm pretty weak. I went on a little trip to a store across town yesterday around noon, and the smells from the restaurants nearly got me (I was in a parking lot with a Johnny Corino's). The thought kept passing through my mind that I certainly didn't have to fast. I could start it next week. This isn't really a real weak in the semester anyway. I had even decided to stop at the Wendy's at one point. I ended up not stopping, but it showed me how easily tempted I was. I only a short way in to a short fast, and I was having trouble. I have fasted in the past, but thinking back, the times I fasted were usually when I was busy writing papers or such, and I was shut indoors and secluded. It wasn't difficult to keep up the fast. Being in a culture and environment so opposed to my intentions certainly exacerbated the problem. That heightened my awareness of the potential fasting has. Clearly, this culture is opposed to most of the ways I think I should live my life, and living in it as I should means two things. First of all, I need a counter community like all the narrative theologians say (somethings I've agreed on for a while). Secondly, I need some guts and some discipline.

My lack in the area of discipline was revealed to me at around 10:20 last night. Soon after the twenty-four hours was over (it really ended at 9:00), I went to Sonic, and ate a double-meat cheeseburger. After finishing the burger, I realized my usual hypocrisy. I finished a short fast and immediately became a glutton, gorging on greasy, overpriced foods. Fasting for that single day taught me quite a bit about myself. I've got a lot to work on. And I'm not looking forward to what I'll find out next Thursday.

First Day Jitters

I've been having trouble on my computer at home, so I haven't been able to blog in a while. During that time I've thought some profound and endearing and interesting thoughts. Tons of them. However, I have sense forgotten all of those interesting things to write, and so, I'll write something else.

Today is my first day of the new semester. As usual, there are those opening day jitters, but they're not as bad as usual. This may be because I've now gone through 18 hours of grad school (with all As) and now feel comfortable about my abilities to handle. But I'm pretty sure that's not it. I'm not any smarter from when I began, and I still don't know if I'll be able to get through these classes this semester. They'll likely be quite a bit more difficult than what I've had in the past. The reason that I think I feel less jitters is because I've been working so hard for the past few months on freeing myself from the grade. I've not been totally successful yet. There's still quite a twinge of fear and disgust at the thought of getting a B. You see, I suffer from "smartest kid in the school" syndrome. I have this disease not because I was actually the smartest kid in the school in high school (or because being at the top of your class at Menard High School was any great honor--it wasn't that big) but because everyone thought I was the smartest kid in the school. That was my niche when I was there, and I developed a lot of habits to keep up the appearance...reading a lot, keeping quiet in class (in order to not reveal my true lacks and to appear like the mysterious, shy quiet guy), studying much harder than I would admit. Anyway, once I got into college, and particularly grad school, I've had some trouble helping myself to get out of that niche. It's not a totally truthful depiction of myself, and by continuing to try to stay in it, I keep placing personal value in how well I keep it up. If I say something stupid in class, I feel terrible about myself later, and the same goes for if I get a B or lower on a paper. I have made some strides in this area. I constantly remind myself to not place such personal value in these areas, and I feel less bound at the moment by the thought of something besides an A. Hence, the lack of jitters. I hope I can keep that up.

Epiphany?

Tomorrow morning I'm driving back to Lubbock, a rebeginning of grad school. I think those times when your ending something (this time another of my breaks at home) when you have the epiphanies that mean something later on. I wonder if I had one tonight. It wasn't any great philosophical breakthrough or spiritual revelation (I think). I was just at the candlelight ceremony for Kayla's crysalis, and everyone was singing and clapping and shouting and dancing (of course but me--I'm still a reserved Church of Christ kid even if I do like being in places like that and seeing others act without reserve). And then there was a really peaceful moment when the band was playing "Sanctuary" and I looked up and this sixtyish couple was sitting back to back with their eyes closed singing (it was about the sweetest thing I've ever seen), and it was a really peaceful moment. Anyway, it struck me, "I want to be a preacher." I meant it, at least for a moment. And I still think that way tonight. I liked what was happening in that building tonight, and I didn't just want to be a part of it (I already was). I wanted to help create it. Being a preacher is something I've considered for a while, though the thought scares me to death. I've heard too many bad preachers, and I've been extremely critical of them. I don't know if I can live up to the standard I've already set in my mind for a preacher. I also don't know if anybody would actually listen to me. It just seems like a really hard life. Of course, that's why we have such a crisis in the churches at the moment. People are scared because it's a hard life. Anyway, I don't know if I'm going to follow up on that impulse of tonight, but now I've got to consider it strongly and really be searching myself to determine if that's really what I want to do. I do have some time. I believe that this MA in English will be just about the best training I can receive for whatever career I settle on, and so, I have a while to consider this idea. It was a strong impulse tonight however, and it was an impulse that may have come from God. I'm going to have to start listening quite a bit harder.

Depressing Stuff

I saw a depressing article yesterday (http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/01/06/tsunami.poll/index.html). It said that seventy-five percent of Americans claim to have prayed for the survivors of the tsunami disaster, but only forty-five percent have offered financial donations. Even more disturbingly, seventy percent of the respondents said that Americans are doing enough.

How could we possibly do enough? Why can't we give more of ourselves than prayer? It's good that people are praying, but as usual, it's terrible that we refuse to offer hope with anything other than our mouths.

I'm Tired

It's amazing how clueless I am. I found out just yesterday morning that my classes start on Wednesday. I thought I had a whole extra week at home. It was a pretty depressing revelation. I just don't really feel rested yet. We've been so busy this break with company and with going places, and then, I spent a week pretty sick with allergies (one good thing about Lubbock--no allergies). I think that if I felt more rested I would feel a little less anxious going into the semester. Of course, this could just be the normal reaction I have going into a semester. I am always nervous about my classes (particularly in grad school) and whether I'll be able to get everything done. That all said, I am a little excited about this semester. I just like the ideas of the classes I'm taking. The John Donne class and the border literature class are right up my alley. We'll see how it all goes.

New Year's Resolutions #2,3,4,5

This resolution's better than my first one. I've made some progress on my spiritual life in the last couple years, and this year I want to make more. Primarily, I need to pray more. For years, I've found prayer extremely intimidating. That may sound silly, but I often feel a physical reaction against praying. Talking to God intimidates me (of course, so does just living life sometimes), and I need to work through that. I've also determined to fast for one day a week, and the money saved from fasting for a day I will donate somewhere. I've found in fasting a good way to shift focus from myself. Doing so helps to focus on both those people who don't have meals (though this is clearly an artificial way to relate-I do have the option of a meal) and on God. I think I'll also do lent for the first time this year, though I'm not sure yet what I will do for lent. I should also add Bible reading. I always find that I don't do this enough. Last Thanksgiving, I learned more about the book of Ecclesiastes than I had ever known before when I had to study the book for a paper I was writing. I should have to wait until school forces me to look that deeply at a book. I should take the time to do it myself. Ok, so praying, fasting, and reading the Bible. That'll do for now.

Why?

That's certainly a question I find myself asking a lot these days. This time I'm asking "why" with regards to the statements I keep seeing about the tsunami disaster. Why do so many of the statements seem to indicate that we consider the tsunami primarily as something like a great business opportunity for the United States? If we give money to these countries to aid the relief effort, the image of the United State will be helped. I've even seen editorials that demand that the US give money only if the receiving countries offer support to US foreign policy, particularly in Iraq. Perhaps even more disturbingly to me, I've seen so much gloating from people such as Bill O'Reilly saying that Americans are the most wonderful and generous people on earth (which isn't true anyway but shouldn't be bragged about if it was). As usual, pride has taken over. Why can't we give of our means because others need what we have and not give because Americans want to rehabilitate their images? Why can't we give and not expect anything in return? Why can't we give and not gloat about it afterward?

Early in the twentieth century, the London Times asked for essays on the topic "What's Wrong with the World?" G.K. Chesterton, with his usual wit and accuracy replied,

Dear Sirs:
I am.
Sincerely yours,
G.K. Chesterton

I think it would be nice if we could realize that Chesterton's answer is true for each of us. We say this often enough in our churches. It would be nice if we finally heard this message and resultingly began to live with the humility that such a message calls for. I don't know that living with such humility would necessarily help our images. But image, contrary to our culture's perceptions, isn't everything. And living with such humility may help us to stop caring so much about personal self interest and help us to care for our neighbors.

New Years Resolution #1

I'm probably going to have a few resolutions this year, though I've been a little slow writing them down. But I guess my first resolution is to keep this blog going. I don't expect anybody to actually read the blog other than myself, but I do want to get this habit to going. I'm pretty bad about having little epiphanies or about having questions that I want to think about later, but I just let them pass. I want to have this blog as a way of recording thoughts and maybe following up on them. We'll see how it all goes.