Twas the Night of the Magic Jack Bowl

Twas the night of the South Florida bowl game and all through St. Pete, the fans were all gathering for Memphis to beat.



With Richard, Joann, and Dad all nestled in their spot, admiring the super alumni seats that they bought.



When what should my wandering eyes appear, but green Santas descending from the third tier.



Their eyes how they sparkled, their speech so unclear. I knew then at once that it must be the beer. Their bells how they jingled, their stomachs oh so squishy. They'd ridden their sleighs up from Port St. Lucie.



As the scoreboard flashed 14 - 41, we knew that the Bulls had certainly won.



And so at nine we drove out of sight. Merry Christmas to all...it's going to be a long night!

Can You Guess?

--Pick 15 of your favorite movies--Quote each movie--Everyone has to guess which movies the quotes come from--Once somebody has guessed one accurately, strike it out--No Googling or using IMDb to guess!


1) My momma always said you can tell a lot about a person by their shoes, where the go, where they've been. I've worn lots of shoes, I bet if I think about it real hard I can remember my first pair of shoes.

2) This pin. Two people. This is gold. Two more people. He would have given me two for it, at least one. One more person. A person, Stern. For this. I could have gotten one more person... and I didn't! And I... I didn't!

3) In the movies we have leading ladies and we have the best friend. You, I can tell, are a leading lady, but for some reason you are behaving like the best friend.

4) Off the top of my head, I'd say you're looking at a Boeski, a Jim Brown, a Miss Daisy, two Jethros and a Leon Spinks, not to mention the biggest Ella Fitzgerald ever.

5) There are 72,519 stones in my walls. I've counted them many times. But have you named them yet?

6) Marvin, you gotta play. See that's where they kiss for the first time on the dance floor. And if there's no music, they can't dance. If they can't dance, they can't kiss. If they can't kiss they can't fall in love, and I'm history.

7) Yo, Rugman! Haven't seen you in a few millennia. Give me some tassel.

8) Is there any reason you shouldn't be in this man's Army? I'm a cross-dressing homosexual pacifist with a spot on my lung. As long as you don't have flat feet.

9) I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up DOES rejoice. Still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend.

10) What's that?
This, my friend, is a pint.
It comes in pints? I'm getting one.

11) Count your blessings Lizzie. If he liked you, you'd have to talk to him.

12) There are two kinds of women: high maintenance and low maintenance. : Which one am I? : You're the worst kind. You're high maintenance but you think you're low maintenance.

13) Wait a minute. Is the safety on Old Betsy? You bet it is, Sheriff. That's what I'm afraid of. You go first.

14) Spiders... the spiders... they want me to tap-dance. And I don't want to tap-dance!

15) I've come here with a view of asking you to marriage me. I know I seems an insane person - because I hardly knows you - but sometimes things are so transparency, they don't need evidential proof. And I will inhabit here, or you can inhabit with me in England.

With Friends Like These...

I am sorry, Nino, Sophia, and Davit, that my country stands idly by as yours is brutally raped by the bully living at your border.

I am sorry that your plight is buried beneath front page headlines of an overpublicized political race and college football training.

I am sorry that my President continues to chuckle and chat at the Olympic games with the scheming bully of a leader who is presently sending his army tearing across your borders.

I am sorry that you thought our friendship was such that it would merit a response worthy of what you’ve selflessly given us.

I am sorry that what my country stands for is being blown away by an Eastern wind to reveal that it is nothing cheap talk and worthless conviction.

I am sorry that your inspiring democracy stands alone against a tyrant and that the organization you so courageously attempted to join pretends barely notice.

I am sorry that your sovereignty is so shamefully compromised by the country above you who knows nothing save greed for power and energy.

I am sorry that bombs kill your children and destruction threatens your beautiful capital.

I am sorry that America offers only to fly your brave troops home and add none of its own.

I am sorry that I can do nothing but wish in vain that my country would step in and stand by one of its most proven allies.

I am sorry and I am shamed. And I pray for you all.

The Wisdom of the Plant Lady

The plant lady was outside our door in the lobby today in the Bank of America Building that I call home some 40-odd hours a week. She comes to water the plants ever so often. We're all very jealous that she gets to go about town and hang out with plants. I told her so. I lamented the fact that we are stuck in front of computers all day, to which she replied, "The only thing I know about computers is that you don't water them." Wisely spoken, plant lady. Wisely spoken.

Let's just give Abraham Lincoln a British accent and call it a day

Last night, Jenna and I were listening to the Police on my laptop and we decided that people with accents are far more persuasive when it comes to matters of love. Someone from Minnesota could sing a line of music and it would not be nearly as convincing as someone singing the very same line from Liverpool. Why is that? Somehow Sting makes me believe that he is the omniscient expert on all matters of the heart. During the same listening stint, we also concluded that, like it or not, some songs will be associated with Guitar Hero until the end of time. Like a mysterious force, as soon as I hear the words, "sending out an S.O.S…." I absolutely must throw my left hand up like a rock star and pelt out, like the vowel rule- red, blue, yellow, green, and sometimes orange. My pinky muscle has grown to be a formidable member of the finger team. At least on my left hand.

Speaking of the British, I watched Sense and Sensibility the other night. I am not a huge fan of Jane Austin novels; they are pretty tedious, but a two-hour, abridged movie is generally alright. Sense and Sensibility is probably my favorite. I haven't watched it since Harry Potter came out, though, and Lerah and I found that the majority of the cast of Sense and Sensibility is in the Harry Potter movies. Professor Trelawney, Professor Snape, Delores Umbridge, Madam Pomphrey, Cornelius Fudge, the Fat Lady…there's more, but I can't think of them at the moment. They're all in Sense and Sensibility. British actors must look out for each other. And then there's Hugh Laurie who comes out of nowhere as a witty, cynical, rude fellow...hmmm, I guess if you're good at something, you should stick with it.

There was a minor crisis in the office today when it was noticed that all coffee had disappeared from the break room. Fortunately I had an emergency pack of tea, courtesy of Lori. My co-workers scoffed at the idea of my bringing in a bag of Starbucks de-caf tomorrow, so we will see what their solution is. Come on in and visit and register to vote. If you're tired of the traditional two-party system, we have a variety of parties to meet your needs. The Surfers' Party, the Modern Whig Party, the Family Values Party, even the Poor People's Party. I'll even give you a sticker. :0)

Ain't Nothin' Like

I get into getting out on my mower
In the early mornin' hours 'fore the sun gets hot
And I like goin' down to the Kroger
When the carnival comes to the parkin' lot

-Brad Paisley

James, Ian and I watched the movie Pan's Labyrinth last night. Watching subtitled movies on small T.V.s is quite the task. Occasionally I got sidetracked and forgot to read and we had to rewind, but we managed okay. I have to say that before I saw the movie I kind of thought that it was some sort of fantasy kid flick, but this was not the case. It was really good, though. I highly recommend it if you are over the age of 13, not grossed out by frogs, and undisturbed by creepy, pale-faced monsters with eyeballs on their hands.



This guy will give you nightmares. I'm checking under my bed tonight.

All movie nights must be preceded by a trip to the Kroger, our affectionate name for the Chevron Station on Tharpe and Mission Road. Actually, most activities are preceded by a stop at the Kroger. I don't remember exactly how it came to be called the Kroger, Lori and James probably remember, but the Kroger has the best fountain drinks in Tallahassee. Giant cups are refilled for only 59 cents. They know us there. When I picture the Kroger in my head, I get a fuzzy, nostalgic kind of feeling, kind of like it's the Cheers atmosphere. They yell, "Calyn!" when I walk in and always smile and ask me about my day. If I don't remember my wallet, they put it on my tab... In actuality, though, the Kroger is generally crowded; a rude, overworked lady with a couple teeth missing is usually up front accusing me of getting a new cup and trying to scam her for a refill price, and half the time the Diet Pepsi isn't working anyway. Everything you'd expect from a corner gas station. I love it.

Quote o' the Day

"I am not a dolphin. I am a person." - Lori Jackson

Wednesday's air mattress expedition was a bust. After our Outrigger Island vacation Bible school this week, Lori and I wanted to see if such an island existed in Lake Jackson. We had secured ourselves four canoe paddles and all we needed was an air mattress. Unfortunately, I could not find mine. Many of you have slept on it. Kenley has the exact same one. It's got the Saved by the Bell, 80's-style zig zags on it. The kind that makes you want to tease your hair as soon as you lay down. Jenna, Lori and I went down to the Lake Jackson dock instead and brought mashed potatoes and salad for a midnight picnic. We would still like to have our air mattress island exploration, if any of you know of any unused mattresses. Lake Jackson is calling...

Congrats, Cam!

My little brother graduated tonight. The little one with red hair and freckles that I still see hugging a Barney pillow and sucking his thumb. Only, tonight when I watched him walk across the Civic Center stage he was 6'1 wearing a graduation robe, a dress shirt and a striped tie, slightly choking from the white cord around his neck. Good heavens, what happened? How did all the members of my family become taller than me? How in the name of Pete did Cam get out of Leon with a diploma? How on earth did my parents manage to get all of us into college? It is a mystery. I feel like our lives have been one of those "choose your own ending books" where you pick the next part of the story and hope you don't fall off a cliff or the drink the poisoned wine or get bitten by a bat and die of rabies. Somehow all the pages we've picked have managed to get us to a safe chapter. Anyway, congratulations, Cam!

"Don't you think that daisies are the friendliest flower?"

Our apartment has a little dining nook that used to be a back porch. I, for one, wish that it were still a back porch because there is nothing I love more than laying on back porches and admiring the stars. Now it is a useless room with a dining table that is never used. The four of us in this apartment aren’t exactly gourmet chefs and if we do cook something, chances are it has been eaten within five steps of the microwave. We never make it to the dining room table.

However, Sarah and Michael bought me some lovely flowers for my birthday and that has made the dining room much more inviting. I’ve found myself straying in there with a book or notebook to enjoy my purple and yellow companions. I don’t know much about flowers except that I like them. I can’t ever remember the names. I know daisies, roses and tulips, but after that I’m lost. I’m content knowing God designed them creatively to bring Himself pleasure. I’m like that with stars too. Some people want to know everything there is to know about space and planets. They want to know how stars are composed, their temperatures, how far they are from earth…I just like knowing that Carli, Jake, Taylor, Lori and I can lay on the sidewalk on a clear night and marvel at them. I’ll leave all the science part to Jake and Louie Giglio.

Tonight my flowers and a cup of hot chocolate accompanied me through the book of Hosea. I questioned my “ignorance is bliss” axiom when I read, “My people perish for lack of knowledge.” I thought to myself that maybe I should pick up a couple of Better Homes and Gardens to brush up on my flower skills. (Carnations and camellias always throw me for a loop.) Clearly knowledge is something God values an awful lot if Israel was perishing for their rejection of it. I thought of all the things I cram my head with in the race for knowledge... Gosh, there is so much pressure just to know…everything. But God values a slightly different kind of knowledge that can be found in the Economist. A couple verses down I learned what he meant. “Because you have rejected knowledge…since you have forgotten the law of your God…because they have stopped giving heed to the LORD…the people without understanding are ruined.” Knowledge that God values can be found in the pages of Deuteronomy: “And you shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words which I am commanding you today shall be on your heart and you shall teach them diligently to your sons and shall talk of them when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way and when you lie down and when you rise up…” That is the kind of knowledge I want to build on. I guess it's alright if I can't tell you the latin names of the flowers on my dining room table. However, I do need to apply myself to get a better understanding of the things that God wants me to learn.

“For the LORD gives wisdom. From His mouth come knowledge and understanding.” – Proverbs 2:6

FLEX Workshop 2008

This week I had the pleasure of hanging out with 112 of our FLEX students in D.C. For those of you who don’t know, I work with an exchange program called FLEX that is funded by the Department of State. Usually I work with grants and write newsletters, but this week I got to evaluate our Civic Education workshop for students who competed and won an essay contest. We picked 112 of our 1200 students to come to D.C. this week and learn about democracy and civil society firsthand. It was fantastic. FLEX students are from all of the former Soviet republics- from Ukraine and Russia to Armenia and Georgia and on over to Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan. They’re going to high schools in the U.S. for one year and this week they represented 38 different states. Pretty exciting. I think they were surprised at how different the states they’re living in are. Some were staying Alaska, Hawaii, Arizona, Wisconsin, Maine, Alabama, Florida- even South Dakota.


















Anyway, the week was awesome. They arrived on Sunday and through the week we visited every memorial and museum Washington has to offer. We even got a sneak peak at the new Newseum- a museum all about the history of journalism. They got to hear a panel about the importance of a free press and made their own news broadcasts.


It wasn’t all fun and games, though. Students got together in country groups to talk about projects that they wanted to implement in their home countries when they return in June. FLEX alumni are very active. They volunteer all over the place. They work in nursing homes, visit orphanages, teach English classes, work as OSCE election monitors, lead community events, start recycling campaigns, work with American embassy officers, sponsor AIDS runs, clean up parks, and get elected to office. I think the most encouraging and exciting thing I got to do this week was listen to their ideas of how they are going to change their countries for the better when they return. Unlike many exchange students who come to America, most FLEX students do not want to move here. They want to go home and change their countries. And that is awesome.






















For some of them, with relatively free countries, this might be as simple as having an event to promote national language in culture. For some of the less free countries, I heard ideas of creating a democracy forums online. They want to have weekly computer classes for orphans who are about to turn 18 so that they have good job prospects when they get out. They want to clean up city squares. They want to have Special Olympics. They want to do all sots of amazing things. It was awesome. And I am so proud of them.














Besides hearing them talk about how their lives have been changed during this week and this year, I think the best thing I gained this week is that I now have friends to stay with in 12 different countries. :0) Sometime soon I want to wear cheshki with my friends from Turkmenistan; I want to go to a Georgian dance; I want to go to a café in L’viv. Soon.

Freebird!!!!

There is an Afghan restaurant across the street from the Target I run to. The building is slightly run down and the sign has a faded, painted-over line about “Emerald Palace” or some name that it used to possess when it was an Americanized Chinese buffet of some sort. Green neon tubes outline the windows and something equally bright written in Pashto illuminates the front door. I would have paid little attention to it had I not noticed that every time I ran by it, no matter what time, the parking lot always seemed to be full. I said to myself that either the food was really delicious or that some criminal plot was being hatched in the back room. That’s what always happens in Jackie Chan movies at least. I, being no Jackie Chan, didn’t have the guts to go in by myself, but I remained curious all the same.

So, when Daniel called yesterday and told me that I had to pick the restaurant for my birthday dinner I decided that this would be as good a time as any to try out some Afghan food. Turns out Cameron and Daniel were curious about it too. So, it was decided that we would save Panera for some lackluster evening and try something exotic. Daniel made sure to park near the street so that we could make a quick getaway if the cops busted up a terrorist plot at the table next to ours. Turns out our fears were quite unfounded, as, minus the green neon windows, everything in the restaurant was decidedly normal. Pictures that looked like they were shot from the movie “Hidalgo” and scenic shots of Afghanistan hung on the walls and a big Afghan flag adorned the check-out counter advertising the fact that gift cards were now available. The food was great. (Any place that gives you bread is going to be a winner.) I had lamb kabobs and they were delicious. Our server was really sweet as well. So, thumbs up to the Afghans. If you are driving down Jefferson Davis Highway towards Crystal City, stop by.

We then went to Baskin Robbins where Daniel was quite disappointed that out of 31 possible flavors, chocolate fudge was not available. I would have thought that chocolate fudge was a staple, but Tallahassee does not have a Baskin Robbins that I know of, so maybe Cotton Candy really is more popular. I was just excited they had diet Pepsi. Some song from Guitar Hero began playing on the radio and it was decided that we would go over to Best Buy and try to play Rock Band. Rock Band wasn’t set up, but Guitar Hero III was. I saw some pithy comment on the screen while the next song was loading. That’s one of my favorite parts of Guitar Hero. They give bands some great advice, such as:

"Don't let the drummer handle the money."
"They don't really want you to play Freebird. They're just heckling you."

Much to our dismay, some fifth grader was hogging the game. He’d probably been there since the store opened this morning. That’s what they do. At least my brother has the consideration to take his friends to play in the middle of the night when no one else is waiting. Even after 9 straight hours, this kid had no intension of going anywhere. “Surely he’ll have to go to the bathroom,” I thought. It was then we would make our move. We lounged in leather chairs in front of two plasma TVs watching Transformers and Spiderman 3 simultaneously, eyeing the plastic guitar enviously. As soon as the announcer called for all customers to make their final purchases, Fifth Grader’s mom came and told him it was time to go. We dove for the guitar. I pounded out in red, blue, yellow and green a rusty version of “Welcome to the Jungle,” and Cameron and Daniel got in a song before they started turning out the lights and vacuum cleaners clouded up the music. Next week we’ll have to arrive early to beat Fifth Grader there.

Quote o' the Day

Heard on the Mall:

"So we all got together and went down to look at the cherry blossoms. Turns out they all look alike and now we're bored."

It was all set up for a big disappointment, people. What do you expect, really? Dogwoods are so much better.

I'll Have to Spill Some Spaghetti Sauce on My Shirt for a Nice Touch

I took Lori’s birthday card with me to work this morning. It wasn’t a typical size envelope, not large enough to make it anything exciting, just large enough that the top said, “requires extra postage.” I think Hallmark has a deal with the Post Office to get a little bit of extra funding. Maybe Hallmark takes a little bit off the top. (Now watch me get nasty letters from Hallmark and the Post Office. They won’t mail them in an oversized envelope, I’ll tell you that much.) Anyway, I had to go to the Post Office to figure out exactly how much postage we were talking. Throw in “extra postage” when you’re talking international stamps and it gets very confusing. Generally I just stick tons of stamps on things and they get there alright, but I was running low in my stamp supply, so I decided to actually check the price. I went to Starbucks on the way, because, well, you don’t really need a reason to go to Starbucks, you just do. But in the process of addressing my oversized envelope, I managed to spill iced coffee all over it. How embarrassing. I marched to the post office in some very uncomfortable high heels and just at the moment I thought all hope was gone and I should never get there before my toes became little stubs at the bottom of my shoes, I saw the eagle. Thank goodness. A very nice postal employee helped me buy my stamps and assured me that he thought it was just an artsy envelope that was supposed to look like that. (“That” being the coffee spilled all over it.) He said, “Well, she’ll just be excited about getting a letter from so far away.” So Lori, be excited about getting a letter and don’t mind the coffee. ;0) I noticed a most exciting thing as I waited for him to measure my oversized envelope. There are currently Jimmy Stewart stamps for sale at the Post Office. Jimmy Stewart is one of my favorite people. I mean, of the favorite people that I don’t actually know and are currently dead, that is. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jimmy Stewart in a movie that I didn’t like. So if you are buying stamps any time soon, buy some that say “James Stewart” on them. They’re very exciting.

I Finally Saw Condi :0)

This afternoon I headed over to Main State to hear Condoleezza Rice speak to all of the Department interns. It was amazing. She is so down-to-earth. And small! I thought she was so much taller than she actually was. Condoleezza Rice is definitely one of my heroes, I mean, the woman speaks Russian for crying out loud, and it was really great to hear her talk with us. People asked a lot of great questions. She was so…approachable. I mean, she looked like the sort of person you could run into and have lunch with. That was a nice contrast to a lot of the upper level people I’ve come in contact with in the Federal Government. She spent some time answering a question about her heroes- she said her parents- and she said that they were people who never saw limits. She said that she grew up in segregated Birmingham where someone who was black couldn’t go down the road to order a hamburger, but being the president was a perfectly attainable goal, according to her parents. She’s come pretty darn close. And if she ever ran for president, she’d have my vote. :0)

Happy St. Patrick's Day, Everyone!

In a bit of a surreal, Washingtonian moment today I watched the Presidential helicopter zoom in over my head and head for the White House yard a couple blocks away. Today was the St. Patrick’s Day parade in downtown D.C. Thankfully, it stopped sprinkling just in time to save the ticker-tape. I seated myself in front of the Washington Monument to get a good view and watched a throng of Irish stepdancers and bagpipe-playing firemen. I am convinced that Americans have more Irish pride than the Irish- with the exception of maybe during soccer season. It seems that the melting pot of America feels an intrinsic need to celebrate their heritage with more veracity than the actual home country. I observed it yesterday as I shielded myself with my computer to avoid being trampled by the green, drunken mass that entered the train at Metro Center. The inebriated do not fare well with the stop and go motion of a metro. Listening to them argue about what stop they are currently approaching is somewhat amusing. Watching them attempt to help their friends up who have fallen on their faces is even better. I’m almost certain I was the only sober person on the yellow line yesterday evening. Although, I have to say that after spending eight and a half hours working on a paper in Panera I was not exactly of sound mind either.

“I have found almost everything ever to be written about love to be true. Shakespeare said, ‘Journeys end in lovers meeting.’ What an extraordinary thought. Personally, I have never experienced anything remotely close to that, but I am more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I suppose that I think about love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said that ‘love is blind.’ Now that is something I know to be true. For some, quite inexplicably, love fades. For others, love is simply lost. But then, of course, love can also be found-even if just for a night. And then there’s another kind of love. The cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. It’s called unrequited love. Of that, I am an expert.” -Iris in The Holiday

Happy ?St. Patrick's Day? Everyone!

“No, no, no. I know this one,” you say. “St. Patrick’s Day is March 17th every year.” Apparently things are different in Alexandria, Virginia, where St. Patrick is celebrated the first weekend in March. And celebrated he is. I’m convinced that every kid in Alexandria goes to Irish stepdancing class. There were five different stepdancing schools represented in the parade. Cameron and I think that we had deprived childhoods because our parents didn’t send us to Irish stepdancing class. There were also a dozen or so bagpipe bands. The firemen had pipe bands, the marines had pipe bands, the army had pipe bands, the notre dame alumni had pipe bands - pretty anyone who is anybody has a bagpipe band. Where is the Washington Center bagpipe band, I would like to know. There was lots of music, lots of green, lots of Ireland. In essence, it was the best ever. :0) I’m a sucker for anything Irish. The month of March is a redheaded kid’s dream. Red headed kids seem to come out of the woodwork during St. Patrick’s Day parades. Maybe they stay in hiding the rest of the year. They’re like Jeep drivers and Mac users. You see a redheaded person and you give the “oh, what’s up?” nod. Carli knows what I’m talking about.

After the parade, Cameron, Becca and I walked down King Street and found something amazing. Bread and Chocolate. This is the name of a restaurant. It took way too long for someone to decide that this would be a good idea for an eating establishment. I mean, what else do you really need in life? Bread. Chocolate. Put them together and it equals something beautiful. I was not actually hungry, but I plan on visiting this place as soon as possible. Sarah, I think you and I will go here. You can just buy a bagette and some chocolate and go to town. Absolute bliss.

You Harry Potter haters can skip this next paragraph. Kelsey spent the night last night and we had a Harry Potter III evening. I think we’d seen the movie 30 times between the two of us, so it was fun to talk through it and make intelligent conversation about the intricacies of the book plotlines. It was like watching with Lori.

Well, I think we are going to spend our evening with the 80’s has-beens, PoP! Everyone needs a little Hugh Grant in their lives. Arrivederci.

“Yes, LORD, walking in your truth we eagerly wait for you because your name and your renown are the desire of our souls.”

Isaiah 26:8

About two weeks ago I was on the phone with my good friend Tamara Stringer and she was telling me all about the Passion conference in Dallas she had gone to the weekend before. I listened jealously as she recounted points that Louie Giglio had made and as she tried in vain to express the amazingness of worshipping with David Crowder and Chris Tomlin. At one point I mumbled, “Man, I wish they would come to DC.” Her response was, “Calyn, they’re going to be in DC next weekend.”

Fast forward one week. I am on my way to the conference. The conference in Washington DC, right? Well, sort of. Although it was advertised as being in Washington DC, the Passion Conference was actually at George Mason University, a school in the town of Fairfax, Virginia. Now, had I owned a car, this would have not been a problem. It might have taken me about 45 minutes to get there from my house. However, it was three hours before I finally darkened the door of the Patriots’ basketball arena. This is like telling someone, “Oh, yeah, it’s in Tallahassee,” and it actually being in PENSACOLA. Fortunately I ran into two girls who were also using public transportation (there were a total of five of us) and we became fast friends with so much time to get to know one another. I probably would have died without Marlene and Kay. I mean that literally. Being at metro stations that connect with the green line at one in the morning by yourself is never a good idea. But the three hour commute was totally worth it.

For those of you who have never heard Louie, I would encourage you to listen to one of his podcasts. Louie has a way of making Christianity so simple and profound. The theme of the conference centered around the idea of “making God famous with your life.” When I told my roommate this she said, “What do you mean, ‘making God famous?’ Everyone knows who He is.” This is a good point and fortunately there was some clarification. :0) Louie and Francis Chan really pounded into us that life is short and we only get one shot. We should be using our lives to bring God as much glory as possible. There are some important things in life. Careers are important. Friendships are important. Health is important. Family is important. But if we’ve decided to follow Jesus then He is the thing that is most important. And to chase after anything else is not only second best, but it’s missing out on what God has really called us to – to know Him and make to Him known.

Passion is doing conferences in 17 world cities starting in May. They include Jakarta, KYIV :0), Kampala, Sydney, Paris, London, Hong Kong, Cape Town, Sao Paulo, and some other places that I can’t remember but are equally cool. We raised about 30,000 dollars for the conference in Kampala (that 30,000 people are coming to! They have a soccer stadium rented out!). We also got to hear the story of a girl named Sam Lu from mainland China. She shared her testimony with us and is so excited that Passion is coming to Hong Kong. They made it very clear not to put any pictures or videos up of Sam because she could get into a whole lot of trouble with the government.

Something kind of small but important that I was convicted about this past weekend was how I represent myself to other people. Interning in DC, the question you probably get asked the most is, “So…what do you want to do?” So as not to have a bunch of awkward turtles in the room, I generally just say, “Oh, I want to do international relief work,” and avoid the parts about wanting to work with a Christian organization or talking about how I want to work somewhere that I can meet spiritual needs as well as physical ones. The truth is that I want to fulfill Paul’s words to the Colossians, “Whatever you do…do it all in the name of the Lord... as if working for the Lord and not for men.” I want to take the love of God to the ends of earth where people need it most. And I should just say that when people ask.

I Know About Eloise!

Good news: McDonalds gave away free breakfast burritos this morning.
Bad news: They were still overpriced.

However, my iced coffee was worth every penny. I realized that it was rather stupid to order iced coffee when your insides already felt like ice, but I guess it goes with the outdoor theme. I’m ready for spring. For cherry blossoms. For skirts. For not feeling like a fire-breathing dragon every time I push air out of my mouth. For new episodes of The Office. For graduation. For May. May is particularly exciting. This is when Lori is coming.

I am currently watching Lost on TV. I am convinced this is the most complicated plot line conceived by man. I do not know how they keep connecting all of these things. Becca, Cameron and I are going to see The Other Boleyn Girl tomorrow. This movie can only end in tragedy. But I am still intrigued by it. I'll let you know how it is. Arrivederci!

Shoutouts to George, Obituaries, and Movie Adaptations of Lengthy Novels

I love running, I really do, but running in sub-freezing weather was a new experience for me. This morning, the city of Alexandria hosted its annual George Washington Birthday 10K. I, along with around a thousand other Alexandrians, braved the cold to pay homage to our nation’s favorite president. We all got t-shirts with his face on it. Very exciting, but not in a middle-eastern dictator kind of way. I always shy away from attending political celebrations with 30X20 posters of faces being waved around like kites. You want to stay away from those.



If your rally looks like this, you might want to find a nearby ethnic restaurant and wait it out looking as un-American as possible.

Anyway, at the starting line I realized I was standing next to a girl wearing a Florida State beanie. Turns out she is from Tallahassee, went to Lincoln, and attended Florida State. What are the chances? Her and her husband worked at the Tallahassee Democrat together and met in the obituary section. How romantic. I can hear small talk from their first date,
“How was work today?”
“Oh, well, you know, four funerals and a cremation. How about you?”
“Two funerals and a Viking raft burning. Might be two-column coverage.”
I can’t make too much fun. After all, my parents met in prison.

Tonight I walked to Target and I wandered through the movie section. Target has good $5 movies. It wasn’t five dollars, but I still had to pick up Pride and Prejudice when I saw it was on sale. Now, normally I like books much better than the movie counterpart, but there are a couple of exceptions. Pride and Prejudice is one of those exceptions. I suppose I’m betraying the female sex by saying I’m not a Jane Austin fan, but I willingly confess that I only made it through 250 pages of Pride and Prejudice. It made me a little sick with all of its self-seeking, frivolous dialogue. I mean, really, how can five girls spend each and every day walking around the house, spinning in swings, and doing very little other than creating drama wherever they go? It’s hard to get through 700 pages. However, Kiera Knightly and Matthew MacFadeyn make you forget about the triviality of the pages their conversations were taken from and the movie is quite enjoyable. So, if you haven’t seen the newest movie version yet, I highly recommend it. Good night, everyone. Until we meet again, I wait impatiently for my own Mr. Darcy (minus three or four hundred pages).

Happy Thank Your Local Salt Miner Day!

So apparently the Federal Government gave a two-hour delay to its employees this morning because of the nasty weather. I, as an intern, am not on their list. When Linda tried to put me on their list last week they said that they do not want any interns or contractors to be on the list because they will leave soon anyway. That is sweet of them. So...here I am. No one's really here. Gives me time to write a blog post.

I did something new yesterday. I walked in ice. Before yesterday, I thought ice was pretty. You make sculptures with it, you eat it, you put it in sweet tea. Today my eyes have been opened. It's slippery, it's wet, it's cold, and it wants your legs to break. Water and steam are welcome to any parties I might have in the future, but H20's solid form does not merit an invitation. My views of salt were just as equally challenged, however. I am not a huge fan of salt. I like salt-free pretzels, low-sodium potato chips and I avoid adding salt to really anything. But salt battles ice quite nicely. There are these little men, I don't know where they come from, but as soon as the ice hits they come out with these fertilizer machines and cover the ground with ice. They're like elves, but taller. (Actually, they don't really look like elves at all, they look like very cold, under-paid laborers, but I still get the vision of the elves that sneak out at night to make shoes.) It's a slug's nightmare.

Anyway, you'll be happy to know I didn't even fall once. (Or, maybe, like Joe and Dean, you are hoping for an "I almost died today" story. It will have to wait for another day.) But, waiting for the bus last night I had to restrain myself from laughing at the people sliding across the street in front of me. It really wasn't funny...but it really was. Have a great day, everybody, and if you see a salt miner, thank him.

Where Have All the Chickens Gone?

My Uncle Richard lives on a farm in Arkansas. There's not much around. Let's face it; it's Arkansas. However, he does have a neighbor a couple miles away that has a chicken farm. You're probably picturing in your head something like this-



Let's go with something like this:

Let's go with four of them. There are thousands of chickens in each one.

Now, a couple weeks ago there was a tornado about eight miles from my Uncle's house and it hit his neighbor's chicken house. The guy lost 8,000 chickens. That's a lot of chicken. Hopefully he had chicken insurance. However, Kenley brought up a good question. Where did all the chickens go? I mean, we all know gravity. What goes up must come down. How would you like to be the person over in Tennessee who wakes up with 700 dead chickens in his front yard? Not me. So, this week, if you spot some of the missing chickens, give me a call. I'll pass on the information to my Uncle's neighbor. I'm sure he's out looking.

Have You Seen This Chicken?

Call
555-6875

Just some pictures of where I live (if you're curious)

This is my room. :0)




















My kitchen is kind of dreary. It needs some coloring pages on the fridge.


















This is the view I get in the morning from my office building.


















The most important part of any commute. :0) I have two within sight distance of my office. Yeeesss.


















This is my apartment building. Clearly I do not belong in it. Not exactly my socio-economic class. I'm not complaining, though. ;0)

That's about all I've got so far. I'll work on getting some more when it's not dark outside. It's dark when I leave the house and usually dark when I get home, so I have trouble taking photos you all would be interested in. That will be my Saturday project. Arrivederci!

Someone's Gotta Turn Phil the Other Way

Not having a car makes me feel as though I'm back in Kyiv again. Riding the metro, dragging bags home from the grocery store, searching for bus stops...running after busses, it's something that I associate with Kyiv, which makes me think of Lori, which makes me smile. :0) Today I went on a running adventure to find places to shop. I discovered that past the Target is a New York and Company, a Best Buy, an Old Navy, a Starbucks, a Subway and a grocery store. These are all very good finds. So, after I went home and took a shower, Becca and I journeyed to the grocery store to stock up for this next week. We have to make sure to do all of our shopping on the weekends, because when we get home during the week it's already dark and we can't walk to the grocery store. I decided to splurge this week and invest in some peanut sauce. I was going to make some, Jenshka, but i figured it was more expensive to invest in all the ingredients, so I just bought some. I can't wait to make stir fry. :0)

Anyway, happy Groundhog Day to you all. I guess ol' Phil saw his shadow today, so we're in for six more weeks of winter.



Looks to me as if Phil needs to lay off the Twinkies. I was very disappointed that I can't seem to find "Groundhog Day" on TV. I need a little more Bill Murray in my life. It seems like TBS always has it on all day, but this year they decided to play the "Fantastic Four" instead. Clearly a superior movie...not.



So next year, Carli and I will have to have a date and make sure we're in the same city and country to have a Groundhog Day marathon. Until then, "Do you ever have deja vu, Mrs. Lancaster?" "I don't think so, but I could check with the kitchen."

So I have to do some sightseeing :0)

One can hardly express the magnitude of the Lincoln Memorial. I’d seen it in the movies; I’d seen it in pictures; in postcards, on the news, but never in person. Lincoln's likeness shows the incredible weight that he had upon his shoulders. His overwhelming need to preserve the Union accompanied by his belief that all men should be free. It is incredible. On the wall to the right is an inscription of Lincoln’s second inaugural address. It was given in the midst of the war between the states. Here is what he said:

Fellow Countrymen:

At this second appearing to take the oath of the
Presidential office there is less occasion for an extended address than there
was at the first. Then a statement somewhat in detail of a course to be pursued
seemed fitting and proper. Now, at the expiration of four years, during which
public declarations have been constantly called forth on every point and phase
of the great contest which still absorbs the attention and engrosses the
energies of the nation, little that is new could be presented. The progress of
our arms, upon which all else chiefly depends, is as well known to the public as
to myself, and it is, I trust, reasonably satisfactory and encouraging to all.
With high hope for the future, no prediction in regard to it is ventured.

On the occasion corresponding to this four years ago all thoughts were anxiously
directed to an impending civil war. All dreaded it, all sought to avert it.
While the inaugural address was being delivered from this place, devoted
altogether to saving the Union without war, insurgent agents were in the city
seeking to destroy it without war—seeking to dissolve the Union and divide
effects by negotiation. Both parties deprecated war, but one of them would make
war rather than let the nation survive, and the other would accept war rather
than let it perish, and the war came.
One-eighth of the whole population were colored slaves, not distributed generally over the Union, but localized in the southern part of it. These slaves constituted a peculiar and powerful interest. All knew that this interest was somehow the cause of the war. To strengthen, perpetuate, and extend this interest was the object for which the insurgents would rend the Union even by war, while the Government claimed no right to do more than to restrict the territorial enlargement of it. Neither party expected for the war the magnitude or the duration which it has already attained. Neither anticipated that the cause of the conflict might cease with or even before the
conflict itself should cease. Each looked for an easier triumph, and a result
less fundamental and astounding. Both read the same Bible and pray to the same
God, and each invokes His aid against the other. It may seem strange that any
men should dare to ask a just God's assistance in wringing their bread from the
sweat of other men's faces, but let us judge not, that we be not judged. The
prayers of both could not be answered. That of neither has been answered fully.
The Almighty has His own purposes. 'Woe unto the world because of offenses; for
it must needs be that offenses come, but woe to that man by whom the offense
cometh.' If we shall suppose that American slavery is one of those offenses
which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued
through His appointed time, He now wills to remove, and that He gives to both
North and South this terrible war as the woe due to those by whom the offense
came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which
the believers in a living God always ascribe to Him? Fondly do we hope,
fervently do we pray, that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away.
Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondsman's
two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every
drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword,
as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said 'the judgments of
the Lord are true and righteous altogether'.
With malice toward none; with
charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right,
let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds;
to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his
orphan -- to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace,
among ourselves, and with all nations.

Absolutely incredible. Lincoln’s faith in God was so strong that he trusted him completely in the mess America was in. No matter what the cost, no matter the outcome. I’d always admired Lincoln, but after seeing this monument to him, I am more resolute in my feeling that he and Washington were our nation's greatest presidents. As the next election draws near, it is hard to believe that we have any men like Lincoln there. All seem wrapped in selfishness in some way. None really stick out to me as men who follow after God's heart. I hope that God will put someone in place that will do his purposes.

Sammy Davis Jr., Jr! K MHE!

Well, here I am in the Charlotte Airport. Evidently my love for airports did not protect me from them plotting my demise. The trip could hardly have started on a worse note. My flight is cancelled; I’m going to arrive past my 6:00pm deadline to get my key; my bags may be lost; I don’t have my baggage tags so there is no way of finding my bags, and they confiscated my amazing aromatherapy lotion I bought from Bath and Body Works. (That's really not that big of a deal; I was just a big fan of eucalyptus. The lady assured me that it will go to the Shelter, so I felt a bit better about it, but Jenna may have to dive into my eucalyptus reserves at home and send me some more. ;0)

I wonder how many other passengers are twitching beneath their polished façade of calm. Perhaps a few, but they all look pretty content to me. They didn’t lose their baggage tags…There is a Starbucks manager behind me training her new posse. She’s explaining to them all the intricacies of a French Press while they look on in awe. Clearly they have never met Jake and Taylor or they would understand all the mysteries a press affords. Lori and I used to marvel at the wonders of it when we made coffee for movie nights with the laptop. You push it down and coffee pops out. Amazing.

There is a flight to Birmingham behind me that I tempted to get on. Actually, I could probably go pay Madison a visit and make it back to Charlotte before my next plane leaves. If not, maybe she can fax me some Whole Foods gelato. I wonder if they have Whole Foods in DC. I'll have to make a search. What is it that Alex says on "Everything Is Illuminated?" Oh, yes. A "very rigid search." I will make a very rigid search and get back to you all.

Until then, arrivederci. If I ever make it to DC, I'll let you know.

Nearly every Christmas, my mother gives me some type of puzzle that I have to put together to get a present. One year it was a maze that contained a pair of tickets to an off-Broadway production at the Civic Center. There was a secret compartment in the back that could only be opened when the pieces were put together. A couple years back it was a pair of metal circles that had to be reconnected. I will be honest, my first inclination when I receive gifts such as these is to smash them with a hammer until I get what I want. But sometimes the presents inside are slightly less sturdy than a pair of "Miss Saigon" tickets. In the end, reason triumphs over impulse and I either suck it up and mess with it until I get my prize or I whine until Lori does it for me.

Why is it that we will sit ardently on the floor all Christmas morning with passionate determination to figure out the secret of how to fit two metal circles together? Does the frustration give us some sort of sick pleasure? Of course not. The only reason reason we put in all the effort is because the prize at the end is much more valuable than the task at hand. To reconnect the circles yields something far better than a couple of metal hoops.

I learned in science class that energy systems are in a constant state of entropy. In other words, it is far more natural for my two metal rings to become disconnected than it is for them to become reconnected. Unfortunately for Christians, the church seems to be the poster child for this second law of thermodynamics. Schisms and breakups have been one of the most constant elements of church history. There's a denomination for every letter of the alphabet and churches within each denomination maintain a vicious cycle of dilemma, discourse, dissension and division, leading to their eventual splits into various other factions named after pleasant road names or picturesque landforms such as "Rose Hill Methodist" or "Sunny Meadows Baptist." In the church's defense, there are many valid reasons that congregations split. And perhaps it is only keeping with the laws of physics that those churches never reconnect again. But what if they did?
What if two congregations could put aside their differences and reunite?
What if they realized that each had something special to offer and together would be a much more perfect body?
What if the gifts of one could compensate for the weaknesses of the other and vice versa?
What kind of a witness would that be to their city?
I think both's goals are the same. One might be a Chapel and one might be a Dome, but Solomon's musings still ring true:

"Two are better than one because they have a good return for their labour."

Getcha Head in the Game

I'm afraid that if my life rested upon the ability to dance the moves to High School Musical I would be lowered into the crocodile cage and there would be nothing left but some nickles I have in my pocket and the 10 dollar ring I bought in Kilkenny that I am convinced would survive twelve nuclear blasts and the destruction of earth as we know it. However, my roommates would survive and live quite comfortably on what I leave them in my will. (A couple of used-to-be-red couches, some movies and a bunk bed.) Try as I may, I cannot see what it is that girls see when they look into the face of Zac Efron. I think he looks like a girl. James and I are convinced that he's gay. After all, what basketball player do you know that likes to break into song in the middle of the court? Despite mine and Tori's protests, our house was subjected to the "High School Musical Interactive DVD Game" for the better part of two hours. As happy as I was to see the game end, I was disappointed in the fact that the win went to Jenna.

But after the horror of High School Musical, we moved on to a much better interactive game. Jenna has come into possession of a something called "Karaoke Revolution." Except for a poorly selected Ashley Simpson song that got on there, I'm convinced, by mistake, the songs are great. My favorite is Kenley's spot on of Take On Me, although Dean's rendition of Play that Funky Music, White Boy, is almost as good. ;0)

So come on over to the house this week and try out the new microphone. Embrace your poor singing skills by selecting a character that looks a bit too much like Sanjaya and putting it on the easy setting. Or you can dress your character in a dazzling evening gown and bust out "I Will Always Love You." (Try your best to mimic Whitney Houston and not Dolly Parton.) I will be at Leshay's watching Prison Break tonight,



(I <3 Michael Scofield.)

so you can even sneak in and play High School Musical if you'd like. Just don't let me catch you.

Are you smarter than a 5th grader?

As my move to Washington DC approaches, I've been trying to Google important DC information. Where is the nearest stir-fry place? If I order tea, do I have to specify that I want it sweet? Are buggies called shopping carts or baskets? Or buggies? You know, the important things. So I figured we could all learn a little something together.

Which of these things does not belong in Washington DC?


A.
B.
C.











If you said "C," then you are correct!

Okay, now we'll make it a little trickier.



A.
B.
C.


















If you said "B," then you are correct!

A.
B.
C.















If you said "A," and "C," then you are correct! (I had to try to trick you.)




A.
B.
C.







If you said "C," then you are correct!


A.
B.
C.















Okay, actually none of these are from DC. If you got them all correct, hooray for you. If you got them wrong, well, then you should come visit me and we'll go see monuments first hand. I'll have the nearest stir-fry place mapped out. :0)