fancy shmancy...
This is kinda cool. That I can make all these spiffy embellishments, I mean. Who needs a plain old boring blog when you can blog in style?
Or at least in color.
Whatever. I guess I'm not that impressed. And I'm certainly not compelled to apply a new font and/or color to every paragraph I type. That would just be a pain. In short, I suppose my blog will remain virtually the same, despite all the added options. Pity.
Ok, so... life. The abridged version.
*A tan would be nice. Really nice.
*Work is good. Days off are better. Paychecks are best.
*King Arthur, to be honest, was disappointing. The frozen-lake battle scene was impressive, but not worth the price of admission. However, if one happens to be of the male variety, the movie does boast incentives (blood, fire, weapons, body paint, and Keira Knightley) that might make a new hole in one's wallet a bit more bearable.
*Szechuan Empire (new Chinese place nearby) is super yummy. And I've discovered that although Hot and Sour Soup holds no appeal for me whatsoever, I'm a big fan of Won-Ton Soup.
*My friend's mother is recovering beautifully from surgery -- praise God.
*Re-connecting mid-summer with Hillsdale voices is a lovely thing... I only wish that more of my dear friends were reachable.
Well, there's more to say but no time to say it.
For now... Banana Boat, I will not give in to the temptation of the bottle. I spurn your fake-tan-orangey-ness.
HA.
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
Tuesday, July 06, 2004
My twenty-two year old cousin, Drew, has been in Iraq since January. He wasn't here to celebrate his wife's birthday with her. He was overseas when Clayton, their first child, had his fourth birthday party. He was away when Carter, their other little boy, turned one and had his first piece of birthday cake. And, as it is with so many daddys in the armed forces, his family assured him of their love and appreciation by phone on Father's Day.
But Drew, who just got word last week that he did receive a scholarship from the army and will be going into the fall semester at Western as a sophomore, is on his way home.
From Iraq to Germany to Maine, Drew is finally back in the States. Soon he'll be in Fort Hood, Texas, where his wife is waiting expectantly for him. And by this time next week, God-willing, he'll be back here in Michigan surrounded by his loving wife, his precious children, and the rest of his absolutely thrilled family.
Praise our glorious King for His matchless mercy and unfailing provision!
He holds victory in store for the upright, he is a shield to those whose walk is blameless, for he guards the course of the just and protects the way of his faithful ones ~Proverbs 2:7-8
But Drew, who just got word last week that he did receive a scholarship from the army and will be going into the fall semester at Western as a sophomore, is on his way home.
From Iraq to Germany to Maine, Drew is finally back in the States. Soon he'll be in Fort Hood, Texas, where his wife is waiting expectantly for him. And by this time next week, God-willing, he'll be back here in Michigan surrounded by his loving wife, his precious children, and the rest of his absolutely thrilled family.
Praise our glorious King for His matchless mercy and unfailing provision!
He holds victory in store for the upright, he is a shield to those whose walk is blameless, for he guards the course of the just and protects the way of his faithful ones ~Proverbs 2:7-8
Thursday, June 24, 2004
Interestingly Enough...
*Ownership and maintenence of a bonzai tree is NOT all it's cracked up to be... AKA, I have a feeling that were it physically capable of doing so, mine would have legally emancipated itself from me and walked out on this sub-par botanical enthusiast weeks ago. I've forced the poor thing to go thirsty (unintentionally) numerous times, and at this point I'm forced to admit that perhaps foliage just isn't my forte. Shame.
*I read today in our store's little informative update-type newsletter that one of our sales associates somewhere in Tennessee recentely fixed up an order for a Betty Reese Witherspoon, mother of actress Reese, who asked her mom to tell our store and all its employees how much both women love shopping at our store in Nashville. Although I've been employed there for less than a month, I'm flattered and almost giddy over the idea of it in quite a superficial, idolotrous way. And I wonder if that counts as some sort of six degrees of seperation or something. Just kidding.
*I'm trying to decide at what point I must give up my pursuit of the beautiful summer suntan I've desired and, instead, resign myself to the idea of a more Nicole Kidman-inspired look. (Read: It's cold here, there's no sun, my ghostly, almost-translucent skin is beginning to testify to my Irish/Polish heritage while staunchly denying any Greek descent, and I'm losing any and all hope of improving the shade of my melanin-impaired skin.) Input requested. Encouragement appreciated.
Later, kids.
*Ownership and maintenence of a bonzai tree is NOT all it's cracked up to be... AKA, I have a feeling that were it physically capable of doing so, mine would have legally emancipated itself from me and walked out on this sub-par botanical enthusiast weeks ago. I've forced the poor thing to go thirsty (unintentionally) numerous times, and at this point I'm forced to admit that perhaps foliage just isn't my forte. Shame.
*I read today in our store's little informative update-type newsletter that one of our sales associates somewhere in Tennessee recentely fixed up an order for a Betty Reese Witherspoon, mother of actress Reese, who asked her mom to tell our store and all its employees how much both women love shopping at our store in Nashville. Although I've been employed there for less than a month, I'm flattered and almost giddy over the idea of it in quite a superficial, idolotrous way. And I wonder if that counts as some sort of six degrees of seperation or something. Just kidding.
*I'm trying to decide at what point I must give up my pursuit of the beautiful summer suntan I've desired and, instead, resign myself to the idea of a more Nicole Kidman-inspired look. (Read: It's cold here, there's no sun, my ghostly, almost-translucent skin is beginning to testify to my Irish/Polish heritage while staunchly denying any Greek descent, and I'm losing any and all hope of improving the shade of my melanin-impaired skin.) Input requested. Encouragement appreciated.
Later, kids.
Saturday, June 19, 2004
Goodness.
Dear faithful readers: I am truly sorry for allowing my extreme shallow enjoyment of a game like basketball to get in the way of my normal blogging patterns. Don't be fooled, I DO realize it's just a game, thank you. But it's a nice diversion from the stressful reality of two new jobs, recurring migraines, having to finish a class left "incomplete" from last year, impaired eyesight, and family issues, as I'm sure most of you can appreciate to some degree or another.
Anyway...
Apparently I've been devoting too much effort to expressing my Pistons-inspired enthusiasm. Now, at the request of a couple of dear friends, I'll proceed in the coming posts to enlighten you all as to how I'm "really" doing. No more Lakers trash talk, no more NBA chatter, no more scoring predictions, no more Finals fever, and no more Pistons fanatacism.
I promise.
So, as for me, I'm well. Holding up, anyway. I still have not been able to schedule an appointment with my eye doctor to get a new lens prescription for my glasses, so the sight out of my right eye remains impaired. Unfortunately, I won't be able to be evaluated until my pupil can completely constrict, but the doctor says it always takes longer for light colored eyes to recover from being kept dilated. This is frustrating because it is still hard to go out in sunlight for too long and I've been getting headaches virtually daily because of working and just normal functioning with bad vision. Now that I've spent an entire paragraph complaining, I think I'll stop and move on to something else. HA.
*I bet you're glad I stopped blogging about the Pistons for THIS*
A few random facts I've discovered to be true in the past few days:
*It is uber disappointing to call one of your best friends to wish her a happy birthday only to discover that you were off by three days... ESPECIALLY when you were also responsible for giving the incorrect information to at least two of her other girlfriends. Thank the Lord for creating a characteristic like graciousness.
*When working in retail and putting on a large semi-annual sale, there is absolutely no point in trying to promptly re-stock merchendise everytime it seems to dwindle, clearing out fitting rooms, neatly folding clothing, or avoiding a mess behind the counter. Simply paste on a friendly, if somewhat plastic, smile, ignore the burning blisters rubbing into your stylish black sandals, keep the store's image pristine by folding the top two shirts of each pile, dismiss the deplorable conditions of the fitting rooms, smooth back your hair, wipe the sweat from your brow, take a deep breath, and ask in your most sugary-sweet -- I mean, polite -- voice, "would you like your receipt with you, or in the bag?"
*Mosquitoes are evil things, and although temporary relief may be found in the form of Benadryl spray, that in no way redeems the agony and suffering inflicted by those tiny, bloodthirsty creatures. And welts really are so unsightly.
*There are a few scents at Bath & Body Works that I absolutely cannot abide. I really don't know if it's wrong to say, since I work there and all, but it is in my own personal (and perhaps, professional) opinion, that anything and everything "Cucumber Melon" positively smells like sin. "Warm Vanilla Sugar" is detestable as well.
*Sleep is a good thing... a good thing I need a bit more of right about now.
Hope that satisfied any readers who may have felt deprived over the past few posts. Never fear, I shall return soon bearing more insight and Katie-speak, but for now, my pillow impresses me as my most appealing option. Off I go. G'night all.
Dear faithful readers: I am truly sorry for allowing my extreme shallow enjoyment of a game like basketball to get in the way of my normal blogging patterns. Don't be fooled, I DO realize it's just a game, thank you. But it's a nice diversion from the stressful reality of two new jobs, recurring migraines, having to finish a class left "incomplete" from last year, impaired eyesight, and family issues, as I'm sure most of you can appreciate to some degree or another.
Anyway...
Apparently I've been devoting too much effort to expressing my Pistons-inspired enthusiasm. Now, at the request of a couple of dear friends, I'll proceed in the coming posts to enlighten you all as to how I'm "really" doing. No more Lakers trash talk, no more NBA chatter, no more scoring predictions, no more Finals fever, and no more Pistons fanatacism.
I promise.
So, as for me, I'm well. Holding up, anyway. I still have not been able to schedule an appointment with my eye doctor to get a new lens prescription for my glasses, so the sight out of my right eye remains impaired. Unfortunately, I won't be able to be evaluated until my pupil can completely constrict, but the doctor says it always takes longer for light colored eyes to recover from being kept dilated. This is frustrating because it is still hard to go out in sunlight for too long and I've been getting headaches virtually daily because of working and just normal functioning with bad vision. Now that I've spent an entire paragraph complaining, I think I'll stop and move on to something else. HA.
*I bet you're glad I stopped blogging about the Pistons for THIS*
A few random facts I've discovered to be true in the past few days:
*It is uber disappointing to call one of your best friends to wish her a happy birthday only to discover that you were off by three days... ESPECIALLY when you were also responsible for giving the incorrect information to at least two of her other girlfriends. Thank the Lord for creating a characteristic like graciousness.
*When working in retail and putting on a large semi-annual sale, there is absolutely no point in trying to promptly re-stock merchendise everytime it seems to dwindle, clearing out fitting rooms, neatly folding clothing, or avoiding a mess behind the counter. Simply paste on a friendly, if somewhat plastic, smile, ignore the burning blisters rubbing into your stylish black sandals, keep the store's image pristine by folding the top two shirts of each pile, dismiss the deplorable conditions of the fitting rooms, smooth back your hair, wipe the sweat from your brow, take a deep breath, and ask in your most sugary-sweet -- I mean, polite -- voice, "would you like your receipt with you, or in the bag?"
*Mosquitoes are evil things, and although temporary relief may be found in the form of Benadryl spray, that in no way redeems the agony and suffering inflicted by those tiny, bloodthirsty creatures. And welts really are so unsightly.
*There are a few scents at Bath & Body Works that I absolutely cannot abide. I really don't know if it's wrong to say, since I work there and all, but it is in my own personal (and perhaps, professional) opinion, that anything and everything "Cucumber Melon" positively smells like sin. "Warm Vanilla Sugar" is detestable as well.
*Sleep is a good thing... a good thing I need a bit more of right about now.
Hope that satisfied any readers who may have felt deprived over the past few posts. Never fear, I shall return soon bearing more insight and Katie-speak, but for now, my pillow impresses me as my most appealing option. Off I go. G'night all.
Thursday, June 17, 2004
Detroit Pistons, 2004 NBA Champions
R.E.S.P.E.C.T
NBA Finals Wrap-Up
Game 1: Detroit
Game 2: Los Angeles
Game 3: Detroit
Game 4: Detroit
Game 5: Detroit
(G5 Final Score, DP:100, LAL:87)
The team whose motto is "Goin' to Work" had put in a little overtime, and the once-mighty Lakers hadn't just been defeated, they had been stomped and crushed like Italian grapes. The Pistons didn't just beat L.A., they reduced it to a single letter: "L," as in loser.
...
Some will call this the biggest upset in the history of the NBA. How amazing is it? Well, remember, the series was preordained as the Lakers versus "the other guys." The Pistons were supposed to be mindful of their station. "Forget what happened before," pundits kept saying. "This game, you'll be put in your place."
...
They were. Their place is on the victory stand.
...
So how will history remember these Finals? Mostly for their shock value. Here's how shockingly good the Pistons were. They beat the Lakers in five, and the Lakers had home-court advantage. Remember, these were the same Lakers who knocked off San Antonio, the defending champion, by winning four straight, then knocked off Minnesota, the West's top seed. Obviously, they must have been doing something right. But suddenly, in this series, as the losses mounted, it wasn't about the Pistons' success, it was about the Lakers' loosening their screws. This Finals series, it seemed, would only be over when the Lakers said it was. Even before Tuesday's head-chopping -- facing a 3-1 deficit that no team had ever come back from in the Finals -- the purple-and-gold superstars acted as if fate had promised them a championship.
"I'm telling you right now, we'll win Tuesday," Kobe Bryant said.
Too bad.
"We have every intention of winning this game," Phil Jackson said.
So sad.
"Got to win," Shaquille O'Neal said.
Buh-bye.
~Mitch Albom, Detroit Free Press, 16 June 2004
They were square pegs uncomfortably squeezed into circular confinements. And within the ground rules of perception, a failure to conform easily morphs into an inability to succeed.
Chauncey Billups couldn't lead.
Richard Hamilton couldn't learn.
Rasheed Wallace couldn't leave well enough alone.
And Ben Wallace just couldn't... period.
Each eventually found the right fit in a franchise that eschewed conventionality. And as the long years of frustration dwindled into precious minutes of anticipation Tuesday, each assumed a look of stunned amazement as the weight of their actions finally registered.
...
Detroit Pistons -- 2004 NBA World Champions.
Raise your lunch pails in salute.
~Drew Sharp, Detroit Free Press, 16 June 2004
The Pistons -- America's Team, the People's Champions -- did it the right way. They never stopped working and won it on their home turf. There's only one reason to go back to L.A. now: Disneyland!
~Two Cents, Detroit Free Press, 16 June 2004
Eleven months after assembling what was supposed to be the greatest team in NBA history, within a week of their professed destiny, the Lakers fell dramatically apart.
Piece by Hollywood piece. Bit by selfish bit. Their ingrained sense of entitlement dismanteled by a more powerful sense of teamwork.
As if sent down by the sports gods to deliver a message, the Pistons crawled out from the shadows of hard work, away from the anonymity of defense, and into a spotlight that showed the Lakers everything they used to be.
A team that shares the ball. A team that shares the floor burns. A team that shares the glory.
An NBA champion.
~Bill Plaschke, L.A. Times
The Laker regime ended like Czechoslovakia's -- without a shot. They lost with little grace and with minimal class, 100-87 to the Pistons.
~Mark Whicker, Orange County Register
"What about people who say you can't win without a high-priced superstar?" someone asked Dumars in the jammed Detroit locker room.
"I guess they're gonna have to find something else to say now," he beamed.
...
Here is their story: one hyperactive shooting guard, one proud but ignored point guard, one quietly determined small forward, one passionate, hot-tempered power forward, and one hard-jawed, oak tree of a center backed by one unflappable immigrant big man, two boyishly energetic reserve guards, one nasty, muscled backup forward, one senior citizen backup center, several other role players, and a coach who has called a lot of NBA places his "last stop," but only here could actually say that from a mountain-top.
...
We in the Motor City are more accustomed to people trying to beat us, not join us. So this is new....But for one night, anyhow, the team from Detroit was the team from everywhere, the public school kids beating the preppy private school kids, the beer league softball team beating the stiffly uniformed semi-pro squad, the local bowler outrolling the visiting pro, the duffer playing a winning round against the club champion.
"I don't really want to be America's Team," Hunter said.... "Forget about being America's Team. I want to be Detroit's team."
~Mitch Albom, Detroit Free Press, 17 June 2004
"Teams beat individuals, and we picked the wrong time to be individuals." ~Rick Fox, L.A. Lakers
"Me and Detroit, coming to this city, me and Detroit, we just started rooting for each other." ~Ben Wallace, Detroit Pistons
So...
Motown is officially 'Frotown. Hockeytown, at least for the summer, has become Hooptown. The Lakers were L.A.'d off. And the Pistons, our blue-collar champs, made "goin' to work" look easy. Guts and grit over glitz and glamour. Motown over Tinseltown. ANYTIME.
The NBA Finals are over, but here in Detroit... the party has only just begun.
YEAH, PISTONS!
R.E.S.P.E.C.T
NBA Finals Wrap-Up
Game 1: Detroit
Game 2: Los Angeles
Game 3: Detroit
Game 4: Detroit
Game 5: Detroit
(G5 Final Score, DP:100, LAL:87)
The team whose motto is "Goin' to Work" had put in a little overtime, and the once-mighty Lakers hadn't just been defeated, they had been stomped and crushed like Italian grapes. The Pistons didn't just beat L.A., they reduced it to a single letter: "L," as in loser.
...
Some will call this the biggest upset in the history of the NBA. How amazing is it? Well, remember, the series was preordained as the Lakers versus "the other guys." The Pistons were supposed to be mindful of their station. "Forget what happened before," pundits kept saying. "This game, you'll be put in your place."
...
They were. Their place is on the victory stand.
...
So how will history remember these Finals? Mostly for their shock value. Here's how shockingly good the Pistons were. They beat the Lakers in five, and the Lakers had home-court advantage. Remember, these were the same Lakers who knocked off San Antonio, the defending champion, by winning four straight, then knocked off Minnesota, the West's top seed. Obviously, they must have been doing something right. But suddenly, in this series, as the losses mounted, it wasn't about the Pistons' success, it was about the Lakers' loosening their screws. This Finals series, it seemed, would only be over when the Lakers said it was. Even before Tuesday's head-chopping -- facing a 3-1 deficit that no team had ever come back from in the Finals -- the purple-and-gold superstars acted as if fate had promised them a championship.
"I'm telling you right now, we'll win Tuesday," Kobe Bryant said.
Too bad.
"We have every intention of winning this game," Phil Jackson said.
So sad.
"Got to win," Shaquille O'Neal said.
Buh-bye.
~Mitch Albom, Detroit Free Press, 16 June 2004
They were square pegs uncomfortably squeezed into circular confinements. And within the ground rules of perception, a failure to conform easily morphs into an inability to succeed.
Chauncey Billups couldn't lead.
Richard Hamilton couldn't learn.
Rasheed Wallace couldn't leave well enough alone.
And Ben Wallace just couldn't... period.
Each eventually found the right fit in a franchise that eschewed conventionality. And as the long years of frustration dwindled into precious minutes of anticipation Tuesday, each assumed a look of stunned amazement as the weight of their actions finally registered.
...
Detroit Pistons -- 2004 NBA World Champions.
Raise your lunch pails in salute.
~Drew Sharp, Detroit Free Press, 16 June 2004
The Pistons -- America's Team, the People's Champions -- did it the right way. They never stopped working and won it on their home turf. There's only one reason to go back to L.A. now: Disneyland!
~Two Cents, Detroit Free Press, 16 June 2004
Eleven months after assembling what was supposed to be the greatest team in NBA history, within a week of their professed destiny, the Lakers fell dramatically apart.
Piece by Hollywood piece. Bit by selfish bit. Their ingrained sense of entitlement dismanteled by a more powerful sense of teamwork.
As if sent down by the sports gods to deliver a message, the Pistons crawled out from the shadows of hard work, away from the anonymity of defense, and into a spotlight that showed the Lakers everything they used to be.
A team that shares the ball. A team that shares the floor burns. A team that shares the glory.
An NBA champion.
~Bill Plaschke, L.A. Times
The Laker regime ended like Czechoslovakia's -- without a shot. They lost with little grace and with minimal class, 100-87 to the Pistons.
~Mark Whicker, Orange County Register
"What about people who say you can't win without a high-priced superstar?" someone asked Dumars in the jammed Detroit locker room.
"I guess they're gonna have to find something else to say now," he beamed.
...
Here is their story: one hyperactive shooting guard, one proud but ignored point guard, one quietly determined small forward, one passionate, hot-tempered power forward, and one hard-jawed, oak tree of a center backed by one unflappable immigrant big man, two boyishly energetic reserve guards, one nasty, muscled backup forward, one senior citizen backup center, several other role players, and a coach who has called a lot of NBA places his "last stop," but only here could actually say that from a mountain-top.
...
We in the Motor City are more accustomed to people trying to beat us, not join us. So this is new....But for one night, anyhow, the team from Detroit was the team from everywhere, the public school kids beating the preppy private school kids, the beer league softball team beating the stiffly uniformed semi-pro squad, the local bowler outrolling the visiting pro, the duffer playing a winning round against the club champion.
"I don't really want to be America's Team," Hunter said.... "Forget about being America's Team. I want to be Detroit's team."
~Mitch Albom, Detroit Free Press, 17 June 2004
"Teams beat individuals, and we picked the wrong time to be individuals." ~Rick Fox, L.A. Lakers
"Me and Detroit, coming to this city, me and Detroit, we just started rooting for each other." ~Ben Wallace, Detroit Pistons
So...
Motown is officially 'Frotown. Hockeytown, at least for the summer, has become Hooptown. The Lakers were L.A.'d off. And the Pistons, our blue-collar champs, made "goin' to work" look easy. Guts and grit over glitz and glamour. Motown over Tinseltown. ANYTIME.
The NBA Finals are over, but here in Detroit... the party has only just begun.
YEAH, PISTONS!
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Motown's own Aretha Franklin sang the National Anthem, Karl Malone didn't even wear his warm ups, the "Diesel" ran out of fuel, the Pistons D-stroyed any glimmer of hope Los Angeles had of turning this series around, Chauncey Billups was announced playoff MVP, and to thunderous applause which erupted all across metro Detroit and inside the Palace, the Detroit Pistons became the 2004 NBA Champions. Sweet.
Ya know, it took a while to get used to yelling "WE WANT LARRY" instead of "WE WANT STANLEY" ... but I *think* I'm catching on.
Details, analysis, quotes, and more to come... but for now... I'm off to bed. I've got to work in the morning.
Have a nice flight home, Lakers... and you can take Jack with you.
WAY TO GO, PISTONS!
Ya know, it took a while to get used to yelling "WE WANT LARRY" instead of "WE WANT STANLEY" ... but I *think* I'm catching on.
Details, analysis, quotes, and more to come... but for now... I'm off to bed. I've got to work in the morning.
Have a nice flight home, Lakers... and you can take Jack with you.
WAY TO GO, PISTONS!
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
7:00 PM on Tuesday, June 15th...
KIDS WHOOPING IN THE STREET. PHONES RINGING OFF THE HOOK, "ARE YOU WATCHING THE GAME?" RED AND BLUE AND WHITE BANNERS STRUNG. 'FROS UNLEASHED. SOUNDS OF MOTOWN BLARING. LUNGS BURNING. HEARTBEATS RACING. HANDS WRINGING. MUSCLES TENSE. SHEESH...
AND THAT'S JUST LIVONIA.
Two hours and counting before the Detroit Pistons and the Los Angeles Lakers face off in Game 5 of the NBA Finals at the Palace of Auburn Hills. The Pistons could win it tonight. If they do, they'll be the first team ever to win all three middle games of a finals series. If they win this series -- whether it happens tonight or in Game 7 -- their coach, Larry Brown, will become the first coach to obtain both an NBA and an NCAA championship. On the other hand, if the Lakers come back tonight and then sweep the rest of the series (as they must to win), they will become the first team ever to overcome a deficit of this kind -- down, three games to one -- to win an NBA title. So history will be made. Which team, coach, players, and, inevitabley, city will claim this victory... achieve this glory... command this respect... earn this honor... and write their names in the history books remains to be seen.
No matter what happens tonight, this is gonna be good, folks...
NBA Finals, Game 5
Detroit Pistons vs. Los Angeles Lakers
TONIGHT, 9:00pm, @ the Palace.
GET YOUR TV, YOUR RADIO, YOUR TECHNOLOGICALLY-SUPERIOR-CELL-PHONE-ON-STEROIDS, OR JUST CALL ME FOR UPDATES... CUZ ONE WAY OR ANOTHER, YOU'LL WANT TO BE THERE. IT'S TIME FOR SOME D-TOWN B-BALL.
GO PISTONS!
T-MINUS 90 MINUTES...
KIDS WHOOPING IN THE STREET. PHONES RINGING OFF THE HOOK, "ARE YOU WATCHING THE GAME?" RED AND BLUE AND WHITE BANNERS STRUNG. 'FROS UNLEASHED. SOUNDS OF MOTOWN BLARING. LUNGS BURNING. HEARTBEATS RACING. HANDS WRINGING. MUSCLES TENSE. SHEESH...
AND THAT'S JUST LIVONIA.
Two hours and counting before the Detroit Pistons and the Los Angeles Lakers face off in Game 5 of the NBA Finals at the Palace of Auburn Hills. The Pistons could win it tonight. If they do, they'll be the first team ever to win all three middle games of a finals series. If they win this series -- whether it happens tonight or in Game 7 -- their coach, Larry Brown, will become the first coach to obtain both an NBA and an NCAA championship. On the other hand, if the Lakers come back tonight and then sweep the rest of the series (as they must to win), they will become the first team ever to overcome a deficit of this kind -- down, three games to one -- to win an NBA title. So history will be made. Which team, coach, players, and, inevitabley, city will claim this victory... achieve this glory... command this respect... earn this honor... and write their names in the history books remains to be seen.
No matter what happens tonight, this is gonna be good, folks...
NBA Finals, Game 5
Detroit Pistons vs. Los Angeles Lakers
TONIGHT, 9:00pm, @ the Palace.
GET YOUR TV, YOUR RADIO, YOUR TECHNOLOGICALLY-SUPERIOR-CELL-PHONE-ON-STEROIDS, OR JUST CALL ME FOR UPDATES... CUZ ONE WAY OR ANOTHER, YOU'LL WANT TO BE THERE. IT'S TIME FOR SOME D-TOWN B-BALL.
GO PISTONS!
T-MINUS 90 MINUTES...
Monday, June 14, 2004
NBA Finals Update
Game 4
Sunday, June 13th, 9:00pm @ the Palace
FINAL SCORE
Detroit Pistons: 88
LA Lakers: 80
Finals Recap, in case you're living in a cave with no access to any form of media coverage:
*Game 1: Detroit
*Game 2: Kobe...oops, I mean, Los Angeles
*Game 3: Detroit
*Game 4: Detroit
You know what they say when Darko gets in the game...
Game 4
Sunday, June 13th, 9:00pm @ the Palace
FINAL SCORE
Detroit Pistons: 88
LA Lakers: 80
Finals Recap, in case you're living in a cave with no access to any form of media coverage:
*Game 1: Detroit
*Game 2: Kobe...oops, I mean, Los Angeles
*Game 3: Detroit
*Game 4: Detroit
You know what they say when Darko gets in the game...
Friday, June 11, 2004
Hmmm...
So I now work at B&BW with the younger sister of an ATO back at the 'dale.
One of the older women working there has a son who participated in the same junior high advanced placement program as I did and then graduated from my high school's cross-town rival, all maybe three or four years ahead of me.
I also discovered that a girl who began working for B&BW during the last holiday season (and who has returned for this summer) is a girl that I played soccer with for countless seasons, starting when we were probably no more than eight years old!
A girl I work with at Tlbts* (*name adjusted a little to protect privacy... or something) had my uncle as her English teacher for a year in high school.
Another woman I work with at Tlbts has a niece whom I graduated from high school with in 2002.
Yet another co-worker of mine at Tlbts is the aunt of another fellow Hillsdale student -- one Melissa Leismer, to be exact! How's all that for coincidence?
ON A DIFFERENT NOTE... (with, say, an Anita Baker-type sound?)
My dear SoCal Brother... we brought our "A-game" to the Palace... but it looks as if ya'll left yours at home... pity.
Well, much as I'd love to stay and gloat about the D-struction of the Lakers last night (DP:88 to LAL:68, for all those who may have missed it), that wouldn't be nice... besides, the Pistons still have two more games to win before they can claim any titles, and we all know LA is totally capable of pushing this to Game 7. For now, I'll just pick up my fake 'fro and continue to support the Pistons in their quest for an NBA Championship! The (Bad) Boys are back in (D) Town, and for all intents and purposes... KOBE WHO?
So I now work at B&BW with the younger sister of an ATO back at the 'dale.
One of the older women working there has a son who participated in the same junior high advanced placement program as I did and then graduated from my high school's cross-town rival, all maybe three or four years ahead of me.
I also discovered that a girl who began working for B&BW during the last holiday season (and who has returned for this summer) is a girl that I played soccer with for countless seasons, starting when we were probably no more than eight years old!
A girl I work with at Tlbts* (*name adjusted a little to protect privacy... or something) had my uncle as her English teacher for a year in high school.
Another woman I work with at Tlbts has a niece whom I graduated from high school with in 2002.
Yet another co-worker of mine at Tlbts is the aunt of another fellow Hillsdale student -- one Melissa Leismer, to be exact! How's all that for coincidence?
ON A DIFFERENT NOTE... (with, say, an Anita Baker-type sound?)
My dear SoCal Brother... we brought our "A-game" to the Palace... but it looks as if ya'll left yours at home... pity.
Well, much as I'd love to stay and gloat about the D-struction of the Lakers last night (DP:88 to LAL:68, for all those who may have missed it), that wouldn't be nice... besides, the Pistons still have two more games to win before they can claim any titles, and we all know LA is totally capable of pushing this to Game 7. For now, I'll just pick up my fake 'fro and continue to support the Pistons in their quest for an NBA Championship! The (Bad) Boys are back in (D) Town, and for all intents and purposes... KOBE WHO?
Tuesday, June 08, 2004
Hooray for TWO jobs!
Hooray for working at Bath & Body Works with the sister of a fellow Hillsdalian!
Hooray for Tampa Bay beating Calgary for the Stanley Cup!
(small boo for Smarty Jones losing his Triple Crown bid in the Belmont)
Hooray for eyelashes more than half-grown back!
Hooray for a new Chinese place five minutes away!
Hooray for no more drilling in the street!
BIG HOORAY for the Detroit Pistons beating the Los Angeles Lakers on Sunday night in the first game of the Finals! (um, who needs Shaq Diesel, Malone, and Kobe when you can have 'Sheed, Rip, and Big Ben?)
Ok, so maybe we can't win it all (they're glitz, we're grit)... but LA fans didn't get their sweep, and that's good enough for me.
They learned, at least for a night... don't mess with the D, and... fear the 'Fro!
YEAH, PISTONS!
Motown vs. Tinseltown, LA's Staples Center, 9:00pm, tonight. BE THERE.
Hooray for working at Bath & Body Works with the sister of a fellow Hillsdalian!
Hooray for Tampa Bay beating Calgary for the Stanley Cup!
(small boo for Smarty Jones losing his Triple Crown bid in the Belmont)
Hooray for eyelashes more than half-grown back!
Hooray for a new Chinese place five minutes away!
Hooray for no more drilling in the street!
BIG HOORAY for the Detroit Pistons beating the Los Angeles Lakers on Sunday night in the first game of the Finals! (um, who needs Shaq Diesel, Malone, and Kobe when you can have 'Sheed, Rip, and Big Ben?)
Ok, so maybe we can't win it all (they're glitz, we're grit)... but LA fans didn't get their sweep, and that's good enough for me.
They learned, at least for a night... don't mess with the D, and... fear the 'Fro!
YEAH, PISTONS!
Motown vs. Tinseltown, LA's Staples Center, 9:00pm, tonight. BE THERE.
Friday, June 04, 2004
*My neighborhood has become an obstacle course, and I am developing a deep resentment for construction workers.
*The eyelashes on my right eye are so totally growing back, and I'm starting to look close to what you might call... normal. I would say, "it's about time," but I have this feeling like that wouldn't be such a good idea... AKA: God would decide I haven't learned my vanity lesson yet. So I'll hold that thought.
*Highly recommending Joseph Stowell's book, Perilous Pursuits, to anyone and everyone... it's a solid dose of conviction from cover to cover.
*Just got hired yesterday to work part-time at an upscale women's clothing store at the local mall, and I start training on Monday. Now I have an interview at another place in the same mall this afternoon to see if I can supplement the rest of my hours with them. Yay-ness!
*Last night I went with a friend to see Troy, and as much as Brad Pitt tends to own the screen (in my female opinion, at least), I must admit that another man stole the show (and my girlish heart) right away from my blond, arrogant, muscle-bound Achilles. Hector is my hero... and I think Eric Bana has now displaced (and misplaced, as he is not actually his character) my affections. For shame.
*The eyelashes on my right eye are so totally growing back, and I'm starting to look close to what you might call... normal. I would say, "it's about time," but I have this feeling like that wouldn't be such a good idea... AKA: God would decide I haven't learned my vanity lesson yet. So I'll hold that thought.
*Highly recommending Joseph Stowell's book, Perilous Pursuits, to anyone and everyone... it's a solid dose of conviction from cover to cover.
*Just got hired yesterday to work part-time at an upscale women's clothing store at the local mall, and I start training on Monday. Now I have an interview at another place in the same mall this afternoon to see if I can supplement the rest of my hours with them. Yay-ness!
*Last night I went with a friend to see Troy, and as much as Brad Pitt tends to own the screen (in my female opinion, at least), I must admit that another man stole the show (and my girlish heart) right away from my blond, arrogant, muscle-bound Achilles. Hector is my hero... and I think Eric Bana has now displaced (and misplaced, as he is not actually his character) my affections. For shame.
Thursday, June 03, 2004
O for a thousand tongues to sing
My great Redeemer's praise,
The glories of my God and King,
The triumphs of His grace!
My gracious Master and my God,
Assist me to proclaim,
To spread through all the earth abroad
The honors of Thy name.
Jesus! The name that charms our fears,
That bids our sorrows cease,
'Tis music in the sinner's ears,
'Tis life and health and peace.
He breaks the power of cancelled sin,
He sets the prisoner free;
His blood can make the foulest clean,
His blood availed for me.
Hear Him, ye deaf; His praise, ye dumb,
Your loosened tongues employ;
Ye blind, behold your Savior come;
And leap, ye lame, for joy!
My tongue shall speak... praise all the day long ~Psalm 35:28
My great Redeemer's praise,
The glories of my God and King,
The triumphs of His grace!
My gracious Master and my God,
Assist me to proclaim,
To spread through all the earth abroad
The honors of Thy name.
Jesus! The name that charms our fears,
That bids our sorrows cease,
'Tis music in the sinner's ears,
'Tis life and health and peace.
He breaks the power of cancelled sin,
He sets the prisoner free;
His blood can make the foulest clean,
His blood availed for me.
Hear Him, ye deaf; His praise, ye dumb,
Your loosened tongues employ;
Ye blind, behold your Savior come;
And leap, ye lame, for joy!
My tongue shall speak... praise all the day long ~Psalm 35:28
Thursday, May 27, 2004
The random joys of summer abound...
Who knew that a hamburger at a trusty old bar in Dearborn and pleasant conversation with sweet and quirky relatives could do so much to lift the spirits?
There's nothing like helping a friend study for her Spanish exam to remind you just how much vocab you memorized for a day and never really learned. Tengo verguenza! But it did teach me how to say tanktop en espanol... playera. Now that's improvement.
All caffeine should definitely be consumed before 3:00pm to avoid utilizing embarassing outlets for the energy it so readily provides. Tim Horton's Iced Cappucinos are NOT an exception to this rule.
When singing "Cell Block Tango" from the Chicago soundtrack, one must always remember to bleep out unwanted and unnecessary foul language... especially when serenading family members unawares. HE HAD IT COMING!
My fetish for cooking/art/travel shows is really starting to worry me. I find that if I do not change the channel within forty-five seconds of that initial sighting, I'm hooked until at least the next commercial break... if not the end of the show. That's down from my old at-risk-margin of one minute. At this rate, I'll be viewing way too many Emeril cooking specials and learning far too much about underwater basketweaving for my own good.
The cat has lost weight. Not enough, of course, but I remain thankful for small miracles. Now I just need to learn her secret...
Discovering (and re-discovering, as the case may be) the theological wisdom, deep insight, and thoughtful musings of people like Elisabeth Elliot, A.W. Tozer, Joseph Stowell, and Cory Ten Boom is refreshing. Trumped perhaps only -- of course -- by the inspired Word of the Father, Himself. What a blessing to have the time and energy to give these wonderful books the attention, consideration (and the Bible, reverence) that they deserve.
I have not yet made good on my intention to get a tan this summer. This is partially due to my dilated pupil's intolerance of the sun's brightness and due in part also to the unseasonable chill that has left the Detroit metro area afternoon temperatures hovering somewhere around the 65 degree mark, despite optimistic weather forcasts to the contrary. *shock and dismay* But I am resolved. Tan I will be. Soon.
Pride overwhelms me and I cannot resist the temptation to brag that I did NOT give into the American Idol craze that has swept the nation. I found out via my morning newspaper that a young woman named Fantasia (isn't that a movie?) has most recently attained the idol-ness status. Obviously, I was overcome with interest and couldn't avoid the two-inch tall bold letters proclaiming her victory. Right.
Let's NOT consider the talent of bodhran-playing as part of my musical repetoire, k? Perhaps I shall give up. Or be really dramatic and burn it as I dance around, whooping and hollering. Maybe I'll even bust out the poodle socks, Irish dance dress, and tiara for the occassion. Or not.
Dinnertime. General Tsao's Chicken rocks my socks. Except I'm not wearing any... sooo, it rocks my flip flops...?
Later, kids!
Who knew that a hamburger at a trusty old bar in Dearborn and pleasant conversation with sweet and quirky relatives could do so much to lift the spirits?
There's nothing like helping a friend study for her Spanish exam to remind you just how much vocab you memorized for a day and never really learned. Tengo verguenza! But it did teach me how to say tanktop en espanol... playera. Now that's improvement.
All caffeine should definitely be consumed before 3:00pm to avoid utilizing embarassing outlets for the energy it so readily provides. Tim Horton's Iced Cappucinos are NOT an exception to this rule.
When singing "Cell Block Tango" from the Chicago soundtrack, one must always remember to bleep out unwanted and unnecessary foul language... especially when serenading family members unawares. HE HAD IT COMING!
My fetish for cooking/art/travel shows is really starting to worry me. I find that if I do not change the channel within forty-five seconds of that initial sighting, I'm hooked until at least the next commercial break... if not the end of the show. That's down from my old at-risk-margin of one minute. At this rate, I'll be viewing way too many Emeril cooking specials and learning far too much about underwater basketweaving for my own good.
The cat has lost weight. Not enough, of course, but I remain thankful for small miracles. Now I just need to learn her secret...
Discovering (and re-discovering, as the case may be) the theological wisdom, deep insight, and thoughtful musings of people like Elisabeth Elliot, A.W. Tozer, Joseph Stowell, and Cory Ten Boom is refreshing. Trumped perhaps only -- of course -- by the inspired Word of the Father, Himself. What a blessing to have the time and energy to give these wonderful books the attention, consideration (and the Bible, reverence) that they deserve.
I have not yet made good on my intention to get a tan this summer. This is partially due to my dilated pupil's intolerance of the sun's brightness and due in part also to the unseasonable chill that has left the Detroit metro area afternoon temperatures hovering somewhere around the 65 degree mark, despite optimistic weather forcasts to the contrary. *shock and dismay* But I am resolved. Tan I will be. Soon.
Pride overwhelms me and I cannot resist the temptation to brag that I did NOT give into the American Idol craze that has swept the nation. I found out via my morning newspaper that a young woman named Fantasia (isn't that a movie?) has most recently attained the idol-ness status. Obviously, I was overcome with interest and couldn't avoid the two-inch tall bold letters proclaiming her victory. Right.
Let's NOT consider the talent of bodhran-playing as part of my musical repetoire, k? Perhaps I shall give up. Or be really dramatic and burn it as I dance around, whooping and hollering. Maybe I'll even bust out the poodle socks, Irish dance dress, and tiara for the occassion. Or not.
Dinnertime. General Tsao's Chicken rocks my socks. Except I'm not wearing any... sooo, it rocks my flip flops...?
Later, kids!
Monday, May 24, 2004
Sounds...
My cat is purring; I think she'll be making other noises soon if I don't go fill up her bowl of Meow-Mix.
The drills and trucks and workers outside are noisily tearing apart sections of pavement throughout my neighborhood. Hello, construction season... goodbye, tranquil subdivision.
During the last half-hour segment that my TV was on, the piercing cries of a newborn resonated from TLC's A Baby Story. Why am I so intrigued and captivated by a show that simply outlines the nine-month process of pregnancy? Good heavens. I really should avoid it.
The phone upstairs in my dad's office is ringing, but as he is currently out meeting various clients and arranging appointments, it will continue ringing without effect until the caller decides to make use of the voice mail option.
A cute little chihuahua (who, truth be told, looks more like snakebait than a member of the canine family) across the street yips and yaps at the muscle-shirted construction workers desecrating the street in front of her house.
Although the Irish music blaring out of my stereo has a distinct and easily discernable beat, I bang and tap my drum randomly in my quest to conquer the talent of bodhran-playing. It is an elusive skill.
The phone again... it is my brother's friend, calling during passing time to find out if I'll be going to their baseball game this afternoon and if I can ask his mother to bring his black game socks. Are these boys really old enough to be in high school?
The drilling has stopped; someone is mowing the lawn down by Sylvio and Bianca's house, Chase and Gunner are running around outside next door, I can hear an ice cream truck's song tinkering through the neighborhood (this early?), and for the first time in what seems like days and days, there is no thunder booming, cracking, or even rolling in the distance. Lovely.
MEOWWWWWWW.
Yep, I definitely should have re-filled her Meow-Mix.
My cat is purring; I think she'll be making other noises soon if I don't go fill up her bowl of Meow-Mix.
The drills and trucks and workers outside are noisily tearing apart sections of pavement throughout my neighborhood. Hello, construction season... goodbye, tranquil subdivision.
During the last half-hour segment that my TV was on, the piercing cries of a newborn resonated from TLC's A Baby Story. Why am I so intrigued and captivated by a show that simply outlines the nine-month process of pregnancy? Good heavens. I really should avoid it.
The phone upstairs in my dad's office is ringing, but as he is currently out meeting various clients and arranging appointments, it will continue ringing without effect until the caller decides to make use of the voice mail option.
A cute little chihuahua (who, truth be told, looks more like snakebait than a member of the canine family) across the street yips and yaps at the muscle-shirted construction workers desecrating the street in front of her house.
Although the Irish music blaring out of my stereo has a distinct and easily discernable beat, I bang and tap my drum randomly in my quest to conquer the talent of bodhran-playing. It is an elusive skill.
The phone again... it is my brother's friend, calling during passing time to find out if I'll be going to their baseball game this afternoon and if I can ask his mother to bring his black game socks. Are these boys really old enough to be in high school?
The drilling has stopped; someone is mowing the lawn down by Sylvio and Bianca's house, Chase and Gunner are running around outside next door, I can hear an ice cream truck's song tinkering through the neighborhood (this early?), and for the first time in what seems like days and days, there is no thunder booming, cracking, or even rolling in the distance. Lovely.
MEOWWWWWWW.
Yep, I definitely should have re-filled her Meow-Mix.
Saturday, May 22, 2004
Post-Op Pondering, Final Cut
* If this is what it feels like to get punched in the face, I don't think I'll be getting in any fistfights in the future... yep, I'm saying goodbye to catfights, kids. Meow.
* Inhibitions about my post-surgical eye and dilated pupil were put on hold last night so I could go out with my friend... put on hold until she innocently said, "yeah, you kinda look stoned... or maybe like a closed-head injury victim!" Yep, back to hermit status.
* I miss my vicodin.
* Having stiches come out of your eye... yes, as in, your eyeball, is really weird. And it hurts and itches at the same time. I won't go into any more excruciating detail than necessary, but dude... I think I can safely say... EEEEEEWIE.
* I just learned that a mother of one of the kids on my brother's travel baseball team is going through chemotherapy treatments for breast cancer. She's lost all her hair. I no longer feel like my temporary lack of lashes on my right eye is anything more than a minor inconvenience, and although it is still a daily struggle with vanity, I am reminded that compared to the plights of countless others... this is nothing.
Cut. That's a wrap.
* If this is what it feels like to get punched in the face, I don't think I'll be getting in any fistfights in the future... yep, I'm saying goodbye to catfights, kids. Meow.
* Inhibitions about my post-surgical eye and dilated pupil were put on hold last night so I could go out with my friend... put on hold until she innocently said, "yeah, you kinda look stoned... or maybe like a closed-head injury victim!" Yep, back to hermit status.
* I miss my vicodin.
* Having stiches come out of your eye... yes, as in, your eyeball, is really weird. And it hurts and itches at the same time. I won't go into any more excruciating detail than necessary, but dude... I think I can safely say... EEEEEEWIE.
* I just learned that a mother of one of the kids on my brother's travel baseball team is going through chemotherapy treatments for breast cancer. She's lost all her hair. I no longer feel like my temporary lack of lashes on my right eye is anything more than a minor inconvenience, and although it is still a daily struggle with vanity, I am reminded that compared to the plights of countless others... this is nothing.
Cut. That's a wrap.
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
Perhaps it's just that I don't have the same amount of time to ponder things when I'm at school as I do here at home... I'm not really sure... but one thing I do know for sure is that within the past couple days I've been reminded what it's like to really serve someone out of love, not expecting anything in return. Granted, in at least one of the situations I was rewarded for my efforts in the end, but I had the chance -- for about three hours in one case -- to give of my time and talents without expecting any sort of compensation at all.
This is not an attempt to glorify myself in any way... truly, what really blows me away about this is not that I took these two or three opportunities in the past couple days, but the fact that they stood out to me. If these hours of real servanthood made this significant an impact on me... what does that say about me? What does that say about my everyday attitude about serving others and my typical patterns of Christian service? If I were really emulating the service-oriented attitude of Christ in my daily life, it seems unlikely that these experiences would have so affected me.
I am so thankful that the Lord uses people and situations in our lives to both remind and convict us. If He had not given me these opportunities and then opened my eyes to show me the shortcomings in my heart and my life, I never would have thought to look at these areas on my own. I know that I'll never be perfect... but I don't want to be the type of Christian who walks away from an opportunity to serve. I want the Lord to see me as a faithful, willing servant -- one He could trust with any mission, whether it's to help a friend with homework or take His gospel across the world to a hostile nation. I know this is a process... I'm not there yet, but my prayer is that God will continue to work in my life, teach me, reveal His will for my life, and lead my footsteps on the path He wants me to take to get there. My job is to trust Him. And hold on tight... this will be an incredible ride, as long as I can remember to stay in the passenger seat and let Him do the steering.
This is not an attempt to glorify myself in any way... truly, what really blows me away about this is not that I took these two or three opportunities in the past couple days, but the fact that they stood out to me. If these hours of real servanthood made this significant an impact on me... what does that say about me? What does that say about my everyday attitude about serving others and my typical patterns of Christian service? If I were really emulating the service-oriented attitude of Christ in my daily life, it seems unlikely that these experiences would have so affected me.
I am so thankful that the Lord uses people and situations in our lives to both remind and convict us. If He had not given me these opportunities and then opened my eyes to show me the shortcomings in my heart and my life, I never would have thought to look at these areas on my own. I know that I'll never be perfect... but I don't want to be the type of Christian who walks away from an opportunity to serve. I want the Lord to see me as a faithful, willing servant -- one He could trust with any mission, whether it's to help a friend with homework or take His gospel across the world to a hostile nation. I know this is a process... I'm not there yet, but my prayer is that God will continue to work in my life, teach me, reveal His will for my life, and lead my footsteps on the path He wants me to take to get there. My job is to trust Him. And hold on tight... this will be an incredible ride, as long as I can remember to stay in the passenger seat and let Him do the steering.
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
Post-Op Pondering, Take Two
I would just like to say that I truly believe it is impossible for one to appreciate the sheer multitude, length, and beauty of one's eyelashes until they have been cut off or in some other way removed. It is remarkable how significant an impact can stem from such a relatively tiny feature.
Praise our loving Father in heaven Who, knowing my vanity (and, I'm assuming, that of others) before I even had mortal form, decided that eyelashes would grow back in time.
I would just like to say that I truly believe it is impossible for one to appreciate the sheer multitude, length, and beauty of one's eyelashes until they have been cut off or in some other way removed. It is remarkable how significant an impact can stem from such a relatively tiny feature.
Praise our loving Father in heaven Who, knowing my vanity (and, I'm assuming, that of others) before I even had mortal form, decided that eyelashes would grow back in time.
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
Just a Little Post-Op Pondering
Some interesting things can happen when you're under the influence of such substances as demerol, vicodin, and tylenol with codeine. For example, you may be experiencing the effects of one (or more) of these drugs if you, for some reason...
* think you see a Siberian tiger basking lazily in the middle of a frequently-traveled, local intersection. (Heather, think Levan and Schoolcraft, here)
* truly believe that everything you see has a somewhat lime-greenish tint to it, and can't quite figure out why that might be. and I wasn't wearing goggles, either, folks.
* are utterly convinced that you MUST, by ANY MEANS NECESSARY, completely re-style and re-decorate your home to comply with each and every principle of feng-shui. no, really.
* find yourself wondering about the Amish and swimming, if they're allowed to swim in its traditionally accepted format, and what kind of tan lines Amish bathing suits would produce. it's not a bad question, actually.
* dream about yourself as an Arabian princess with your own personal turban, monkey, and waterboy, and see your United States Embassy Ambassador lover (gallantly portrayed by Kenneth Brannagh) running at you through a crowded fruit market with a sword, carrying a bushel of tropical fruits on his head. no joke.
True stories, all. Well, true delusions... or whatever.
Anyway, I'll have the play-by-play and more edge-of-your-seat excitement to share in the near future about the surgery and more of those fun details that I know you're *dying* to hear about my recovery... HAHAHA. Just kidding!
For now...
May I recommend eye surgery for *all* your hallucinogenic desires...?
Some interesting things can happen when you're under the influence of such substances as demerol, vicodin, and tylenol with codeine. For example, you may be experiencing the effects of one (or more) of these drugs if you, for some reason...
* think you see a Siberian tiger basking lazily in the middle of a frequently-traveled, local intersection. (Heather, think Levan and Schoolcraft, here)
* truly believe that everything you see has a somewhat lime-greenish tint to it, and can't quite figure out why that might be. and I wasn't wearing goggles, either, folks.
* are utterly convinced that you MUST, by ANY MEANS NECESSARY, completely re-style and re-decorate your home to comply with each and every principle of feng-shui. no, really.
* find yourself wondering about the Amish and swimming, if they're allowed to swim in its traditionally accepted format, and what kind of tan lines Amish bathing suits would produce. it's not a bad question, actually.
* dream about yourself as an Arabian princess with your own personal turban, monkey, and waterboy, and see your United States Embassy Ambassador lover (gallantly portrayed by Kenneth Brannagh) running at you through a crowded fruit market with a sword, carrying a bushel of tropical fruits on his head. no joke.
True stories, all. Well, true delusions... or whatever.
Anyway, I'll have the play-by-play and more edge-of-your-seat excitement to share in the near future about the surgery and more of those fun details that I know you're *dying* to hear about my recovery... HAHAHA. Just kidding!
For now...
May I recommend eye surgery for *all* your hallucinogenic desires...?
Wednesday, May 05, 2004
I just finished my Sundahl paper and sent it in via email. This means I'm all done for the semester, until I go back and have to finish up my Incomplete for Brit Lit... but I have until the end of September for that. For now, I am most definitely done. Beautiful.
I hope you are enjoying the nice weather and all the fun that comes with being done with exams for the year. Praise the Lord that He has brought us faithfully through yet another semester... He is good!
Give thanks with a grateful heart
Give thanks to the Holy One
Give thanks because He's given Jesus Christ, His Son
And now let the weak say, "I am strong"
Let the poor say "I am rich"
Because of what the Lord has done for us
And now let the weak say "I am strong"
Let the poor say "I am rich"
Because of what the Lord has done for us
Give thanks, give thanks
Give thanks, give thanks
I hope you are enjoying the nice weather and all the fun that comes with being done with exams for the year. Praise the Lord that He has brought us faithfully through yet another semester... He is good!
Give thanks with a grateful heart
Give thanks to the Holy One
Give thanks because He's given Jesus Christ, His Son
And now let the weak say, "I am strong"
Let the poor say "I am rich"
Because of what the Lord has done for us
And now let the weak say "I am strong"
Let the poor say "I am rich"
Because of what the Lord has done for us
Give thanks, give thanks
Give thanks, give thanks