A Promising Career

I've always wanted to be a bouncer. I was reminded of this while Liz and I were watching Boiler Room tonight. Something has always appealed to me about having a job where you are required to take irresponsible people and show them who's in charge. One might conclude that I have an inferiority complex or something, but ever since middle school, being a bouncer has been high on my list of future occupations.

Maybe I can pay my way through grad school with this. Isn't Bloomington swarming with college students just asking for a bouncer to kick their drunk ass out of a bar? I've got to check into this.

Sunday, 17 April 2005, 8:30 pm
Cell phone rings:
“Lana”
“Yes”
“It’s ----”
“Yes”
“Did you get my emails?”
“Yes”
“Both of them?”
“Yes”
“I just wanted to make sure you knew that the guitar wasn’t meant like that. It’s wasn’t for that…It was just for...”
“I know”
“You do? Good. Cause it wasn’t supposed to be like that…”
“I’m not keeping it.”
“You’re not? Why? What are you doing with it?”
“I’m taking it to Faith and letting them get back it back to you.”
Silence
"Is that okay, if I leave it there?"
"Yeah, whatever. But it wasn’t meant like that. Why would you do that?”
“It’s too nice to just give away. No one does…I can’t keep it."
"You can't?"
"No, I don’t want it.”
“You don’t want it?”
“No”
“Well if that’s how you feel.”
“Yes”
“Bye”
“Bye”

Who is this kid?

My sister called to relay another story about Maddie's brilliance. The two of them were driving to the store when Maddie pipes up from the back seat,

"Mommy, what is dis?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Maddie."
"Is dis a Mercedes?"
"Yes...it is, Maddie."
"But I don't remember...is dis a E500?"
"No, actually it's an E320."
"Oh...I'm so silly dat I forgot it was a E320."

Who is this 2 and a 1/2 year old? What kid knows the model numbers of Mercedes? She's also very excited about the "Ferwawi" in the garage (that's Ferrari, for those of you who can't understand Maddie-speak). If you're looking for an amazing sports luxury car, check out the online showroom at www.formanmotorsport.com. They'll hook you up.

Just a Phone Call...

I've been receiving phone calls all semester from my friend Cat who is studying in Hong Kong until May. The only problem is that every time she calls I'm out of the apartment, usually working. I come home to find a message, which is hardly a substitute for talking with her.

Last night we reconnected. We talked about American Idol (yes, she can watch it in HK - which rocks), traveling she's done and my insane spring break. I think of her often, how she'd react to stories or situations, and that is what I miss most about her. Her presence.

We've decided to see each other this summer, since I'll be closer to the MI border than previously.

Go Home...

...Scott Savol and Constantine Maroulis
...those who voted for Anthony Federov and Bo Bice
...anyone except Nadia Turner

I thought having your own style and being your own person was admired these days. Apparently not to the viewers of this season's American Idol. She didn't deserve to go home for many reasons including her kick-ass fro, her phenomenal voice, and her impeccable style, which cannot be copied. It's as upsetting as last season's premature removal of Latoya London.

Liz and I watched a movie about going home, sort of, World Traveler. I wanted to see it because it stars Billy Crudup, the amazing lead man from Stage Beauty. I would never call it a good movie, but I didn't hate it, either.

The idea that God has a way of reaching people with major life lessons during a time a grief has always seemed to be a bad way of going about things, in my opinion. Why bring death, something so painful and impossible to comprehend, into it?

Why does pain teach us things we are nearly incapable of learning without it? Even seemingly simple lessons.

I get that we are not supposed to understand God's ways. But it doesn't mean I don't question them constantly.

I wish I knew if I should have done something differently. I wish I knew if I had misheard or misunderstood the directions I was so sure He was giving me. I wish I could understand if this whole fiasco is my fault, or if it's my lesson, or his. I feel as if I'm missing something.

Roommate to Roommate

"I'm just standing here and have nothing to say."

"I'm just wearing spandex and I have nothing to say, either."