Friday, December 28
Madeleine L'Engle, my favorite author
Michael K., husband of my coworker
Those from years past who are still on my heart:
Gene Ledbetter, the teacher who inspired me to write
Rich Mullins, musician
Pope John Paul II
Frank Capra (yes, I pray for celebrities. Allow me my eccentricities)
Myles Connolly, author
The Abiding Love, to the tune of Auld Lang Syne:
It singeth low in every heart,
We hear it each and all-
A song of those who answer not,
However we may call;
They throng the silence of the breast,
We see them as of yore-
The kind, the brave, the true, the sweet,
Who walk with us no more.
'Tis hard to take the burden up
When these have laid it down;
They brightened all the joy of life,
They softened every frown;
But, Oh, 'tis good to think of them
When we are troubled sore!
Thanks be to God that such have been,
Though they are here no more.
More homelike seems the vast unknown
Since they have entered there;
To follow them were not so hard,
Wherever they may fare;
They cannot be where God is not,
On any sea or shore;
Whate'er betides, Thy love abides,
Our God, forever more.
Wednesday, December 19
Tuesday, December 18
Wednesday, December 5
Monday, November 26
Tuesday, November 13
Monday, November 5
Wednesday, October 31
Tuesday, October 16
Friday, October 12
Wednesday, October 10
Monday, October 8
Friday, October 5
Thursday, October 4
Tuesday, October 2
Monday, October 1
Wednesday, September 26
Monday, September 24
"If the authors and publishers of Dick Deadshot, and such remarkable works, were suddenly to make a raid upon the educated class, were to take down the names of every man, however distinguished, who was caught at a University Extension Lecture, were to confiscate all our novels and warn us all to correct our lives, we should he seriously annoyed. Yet they have far more right to do so than we; for they, with all their idiocy, are normal and we are abnormal. It is the modern literature of the educated, not of the uneducated, which is avowedly and aggressively criminal. Books recommending profligacy and pessimism, at which the high-souled errand-boy would shudder, lie upon all our drawing-room tables. If the dirtiest old owner of the dirtiest old book stall in Whitechapel dared to display works really recommending polygamy or suicide, his stock would be seized by the police. These things are our luxuries. And with a hypocrisy so ludicrous as to be almost unparalleled in history, we rate the gutter-boys for their immorality at the very time that we are discussing (with equivocal German professors) whether morality is valid at all. At the very instant that we curse the Penny Dreadful for encouraging thefts upon property, we canvass the proposition that all property is theft. At the very instant we accuse it (quite unjustly) of lubricity and indecency, we are cheerfully reading philosophies which glory in lubricity and indecency. At the very instant that we charge it with encouraging the young to destroy life, we are placidly discussing whether life is worth preserving.
"But it is we who are the morbid exceptions; it is we who are the criminal class. This should be our great comfort. The vast mass of humanity, with their vast mass of idle books and idle words, have never doubted and never will doubt that courage is splendid, that fidelity is noble, that distressed ladies should be rescued, and vanquished enemies spared. There are a large number of cultivated persons who doubt these maxims of daily life, just as there are a large number of persons who believe they are the Prince of Wales; and I am told that both classes of people are entertaining conversationalists. But the average man or boy writes daily in these great gaudy diaries of his soul, which we call Penny Dreadfuls, a plainer and better gospel than any of those iridescent ethical paradoxes that the fashionable change as often as their bonnets. It may be a very limited aim in morality to shoot a "many faced and fickle traitor," but at least it is a better aim than to be a many faced and fickle traitor, which is a simple summary of a good many modern systems from Mr. d'Annunzio's downwards. So long as the coarse and thin texture of mere current popular romance is not touched by a paltry culture it will never he vitally immoral. It is always on the side of life. The poor--the slaves who really stoop under the burden of life-- have often been mad, scatter-brained, and cruel, but never hopeless. That is a class privilege, like cigars. Their drivelling literature will always be a "blood and thunder" literature, as simple as the thunder of heaven and the blood of men."
Thursday, September 20
Wednesday, September 19
Tuesday, September 18
Monday, September 17
Thursday, September 13
Wednesday, September 12
Tuesday, September 11
"There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle - will you come and join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?
Friday, September 7
Thursday, September 6
Wednesday, August 29
Tuesday, August 28
Friday, August 24
I have been unworthy;
I have been unrighteous,
and I have been unmerciful.
I have been unreachable,
I have been unteachable;
I have been unwilling,
and I have been undesirable.
And sometimes, I have been unwise,
I've been undone by what I'm unsure of -
But because of You
and all that you went through,
I know that I have never been unloved.
I have been unbroken,
I have been unmended;
I have been uneasy,
and I have been unapproachable.
I have been unemotional,
I have been unexceptional;
I have been undecided,
and I have been unqualified.
Unaware - I have been unfair,
I've been unfit for blessings from above.
But even I can see
The sacrifice You made for me, to show me
that I have never been unloved.
It's because of you
and all that you went through,
I know that I have never been unloved."
Thursday, August 23
Wednesday, August 22
Tuesday, August 21
Monday, August 20
Saturday, August 18
Wednesday, August 15
So we found out what happened to the dog food...
Last week, when our air conditioning went out, the heat must have caused the dog food to eplode. All over the inside of a cabinet. We're not sure when the maggots moved in.
Oh someone please tell me it's Friday already...
(on the plus side, at least my X-files DVD is coming from Netflix today. On to season 2!)
Tuesday, August 14
Friday, August 10
Turns out that someone had left the ancient air conditioner running overnight, and it froze up. We couldn’t turn it down, it kept blowing cool air, and letting water seep into the floor tiles.
Oh, and the fridge and water cooler had leaks too. “Water, water, everywhere, and not a drop to drink.”
So we shut off the power to the A/C, and set up as many fans as we could find.
The ceiling guy came yesterday, said that the ceiling wouldn’t collapse, then left. He finally came back today to fix the darn thing. Afterwards, the A/C repairman came, claimed that he’d fixed it, but we still can’t seem to get any cool air.
I’m hoping that my lovely Latin books will be there when I get home. I want to go bury myself in a dead language for a few hours.
On the plus side, after this week, I have drunk at least 5 glasses of water a day, 5 days a week, for 6 SOLID WEEKS. I am now incapable of finishing a can of Dr. Pepper or Coke, though I do still like Mountain Dew and Sprite. That is still a huge improvement. Now if I can just start eating better stuff.
I've never worn jeans or pants to work before.
My co-workers were slightly shocked, and made me stand up so they could see. :)
It was funny. How many other girls get such a reaction from wearing jeans? Hehehehe.
Be a better Heartthrob. Get better relationship answers from someone who knows.
Yahoo! Answers - Check it out.
Thursday, August 9
So, I don't have my work email, don't know for how long. Please send all emails to email@example.com for now. Thank you!
Yahoo! oneSearch: Finally, mobile search that gives answers, not web links.
Wednesday, August 8
Tuesday, August 7
Monday, August 6