Tagged--The buck stops here, people!!!

Primarily because I don’t know 8 more people with blogs who’ve not already been tagged, I’m going to cheat and just quit.

1. I, too, am unable to give blood—for the exact same reason as Sarah, just substitute Scotland for Ireland.

2. I’m going to marry Gerard Butler, but he doesn’t know it yet. I have to break things off with Orlando Bloom first. There are actually 3 degrees of separation between me and Orlando Bloom. I was a childcare worker for a girl who moved to Hawaii and was an extra in the movie “Blue Crush” with Kate Bosworth who used to date Orlando Bloom . . . until I stole him from her. (I actually just saw that little girl in the movie when it was on cable yesterday!)

3. For a number of years in my childhood, my dad would often respond, “When we find your real daddy you can tell/ask him” to any question or complaint I had about my upbringing.

4. I murdered one of the class fish in 4th grade. Perhaps it was man-slaughter (fish-slaughter?), since I didn’t intend to kill it. I just wanted to see if I could thump it hard enough to make it touch the bottom of the fish tank. I think if I had put more of my arm into it rather than just rely on finger-strength alone, I’d have been successful. However, when the fish was discovered dead the next day, everyone would’ve known it was me.

5. I got the chicken pox when I was 21. That visit to the doctor was the second most humiliating doctor visit of my life.

6. The time I went to the doctor in Scotland for an ear ache and the doctor said, “Did you know you have an asymmetrical face? You’re face is crooked (I gave him a quizzical look in response to the question). Go look in the mirror and tell me if your face is supposed to look like that” was the first.

7. In 8th grade I wrote a love story about a guy I had a mad crush on. It revolved around his green eyes and was hence titled “Green Eyes: A Short Love Story”. I was really proud of it. The day after I wrote it, I ran into him in the hallway and discovered that his eyes were so dark a shade of brown they were almost black. He never knew about the story, but I was mortified just the same. I found it a few years ago and was mortified that I'd written it.

8. I love makeup. I LOVE it! I’m like a kid in a candy store at a place like Sephora. Funds are typically a problem, so I usually get something small (like lip-gloss) or just talk myself out of buying anything at all. If funds weren’t a problem it would probably take a room to hold it all, however it would probably expire before I could use it all. While I love makeup and sometimes wish I could be bolder in its application without looking like a clown, I don’t always like putting forth the effort to put it on. It’s pretty much the same story with hair products.

When did the word “melty” become a part of the American vernacular?

Things That Go Bump in the Night . . .

. . . or “clackety-clack” would be closer to the truth. That would be my brain. You’ve heard the term “one-track mind” and its reference to a person who has tunnel-vision, thinking of one thing only, unable to focus on anything else. I wonder what that’s like because I’m generally unable to focus on any one thing at all. My problem is I have a multi-track mind and only one train of thought. It sounds nice and compartmentalized, but my train likes to cover all the tracks . . . at once . . . and since no train can be on more than one track at a time—not even the one in my head—there’s a lot of track-jumping and derailment going on up there. Perhaps “CRASH! BOOM! SCREECH! BANG!” and all forms of onomatopoeia associated with a train-wreck would be absolutely accurate.

I can keep that train on the track during the day, when I’m working and have people depending on me. Well, most of the time. It’s at night when my mind races through every thought I’ve had that day that’s been waiting for that train, sweeping over me like a tidal wave, trying to make up for all the time spent running parallel but never intersecting and now that the day’s finally over can catch that train at the station and seizes upon the opportunity to drown it . . . hmmm . . . maybe I should have gone with the tsunami analogy. Anyway . . . I have a hard time finding rest at night and quieting my mind. All manner of thoughts rush through. On really tough nights, it feels like every thought I’ve EVER had returns for an encore. ~sigh~ Can you tell I’m writing this at night?

And now I’ve been tagged . . . ~double sigh~ . . . The only reason I’m writing this post is to buy myself some time as I complete “Family Tree Part 2” and because I didn’t get much sleep this last week, so it seemed inspired. Perhaps I’ll save some of these thoughts for the “random facts” in my “Tag” post. Who decided it was going to be 8 random facts anyway? Why not 5? Or 13? I could easily provide 80, but then no one would come back, knowing more than they’d ever wish to know about me. For now, I have a train to catch . . . or drive . . . something . . . whatever!!!

Family Tree - Part 1

Ever since I returned from Scotland, I’ve noticed that everyone I meet has Scottish roots. It doesn’t matter who I talk to, the second they hear that I lived in Scotland it’s, “My family is Scottish! My mom’s dad’s cousin’s husband’s dog’s veterinarian came over on the ship back in 1880!” Apparently there was only one ship that ever came to the US from Scotland and it was full of vets. It used to annoy me when people would say that. My last name is a common, Scottish surname, we have our own tartan (plaid) and everything, but I couldn’t tell you who came over on that boat in 1880 and I think the people who could have long departed this world. Why does it matter anyway?

It’s important, though, for people to know their heritage. For me, lately, it’s become even more important to know my spiritual heritage. I grew up going to church. I heard all the Old Testament Bible stories: Noah, Abraham, Joseph and the coat of many colors, Moses and the plagues, David the shepherd boy, David and Goliath, David the king . . . there was some smatterings of prophets throughout, but I never really knew or felt connected to them. I knew they were real people. I knew they were important people in their generations. Another time, another place, not all that relevant to me unless it was Bible Bowl season. And there was my time in AIM and on the mission field. Most of my adult study has focused on the New Testament. There in Hebrews, the “Hall of Faith”. The spiritual giants of all time—“men of whom the world was not worthy” (Heb 11:38). That’s about when the anxiety set in—What am I doing? I don’t belong here!—and I’d check out. What has plagued me most recently is the realization that for the last decade, I have read books and watched movies over and over, analyzing them and gleaning the truths of life from them. I love getting lost in a good story. I love seeing something new the second or twenty-second time around. I love observing and identifying with the complexity of characters and their relationships. The one thing I neglected to pursue with equal or greater intensity was the study of the Bible, the ultimate of stories, characters wrought in chaos of complexity and who actually walked this earth, THE truth . . . the thing I needed most.

A couple of years ago I had decided that I needed to get serious with my spiritual walk . . . again. I thought the best way to get back on track was to get back into regular Bible study. I went to the Bible-mart and picked up a couple of books by Jim McGuiggan, “Genesis and Us” and “The God Who Commands the Impossible”. I started with “Genesis and Us” for obvious reasons, endeavoring to understand just how relevant Genesis is to us. It was pretty amazing. I began to feel connected to this time and place so long ago. Suddenly, Abraham wasn’t such a distant figure of heroism. Jacob was not the “good guy” in his own story. And Judah the man hardly behaved like the child of the Holy One. It took me a year to complete “Genesis and Us”. (Not because it was a particularly voluminous work, rather I’m a voluminous procrastinator who gets easily distracted.) I began to feel a renewal in my heart. It’s amazing how perspective can have so great an influence on our thoughts; a little tweaking and pieces of the puzzle start falling into place.

Don't worry, there is a point to this. Stay tuned . . .

That "WHOLE Other Blog"

One of my all-time favorite TV shows is “Home Improvement” which follows the escapades of Tim “The Toolman” Taylor and his family. There are a lot of shows that I watched in my formative years that I thought were so fantastic and cutting edge at the time, only to watch them as an adult and think, “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen!” (Yes, I meant to just plagiarize myself and is it really plagiarism if it’s your own words? I think that’s called de ja vu . . . or being redundant.) For example, anything that starred David Hasselhoff. Where is Max Headroom today? Or Automan, for that matter? Or Manimal? (OK, so those go further back . . . elephant memory, remember?)

And then there are the shows that are timeless: Magnum P.I. . . . and . . . do I really need to continue? Although, I must give The Wonder Years its due. Home Improvement is also proving to be timeless to me as I catch its reruns on Nick at Night lately. I love Tim’s regurgitation of Wilson’s pearls of wisdom in “Neanderthal” man-speak and his complete misquotations of history’s great philosophers, and their names. It’s still hilarious all these years later.

Personally, I think the writing is the key to a good show. I don’t know that Eric Bana would have made Knight Rider worth watching today. Let me rephrase that: I don’t know that Eric Bana would have made Knight Rider worth sitting and listening to the dialogue today. (By the same token, however, nobody but Tom Selleck could be Thomas Magnum. Hmm . . . tricky.) Some of the shows of the 70’s, 80’s, and 90’s have the worst dialogue in the history of screen. It wallows in the shallow sludge that is the romance dialogue of James Bond movies. ~shudder~ No wonder Bond will never be in a long-term relationship.

But there are plenty of fantastic to choose from. Allow me to present to you my picks for the best shows on TV—ever! (The top 4 are my absolutes, the rest are in no particular order.)

#1 Magnum P.I.
#2 Arrested Development
#3 Scrubs
#4 24
#5 Dead Like Me
#6 Home Improvement
#7 The Wonder Years
#8 Hart to Hart (yes, you read that right)
#9 Hunter
#10 Sledgehammer

What are yours?

And now it's time for . . .

. . . Tender Moments from the Toilet. A new series from the World Inside My Head in the tradition of The Dog Days of Winter (which will resume in the winter). Each episode will feature the tender words and pearls of wisdom I receive regularly from a child sitting on the pot. This week's episode:

"I love you, Miss Lisa."

Something we all need to hear a little more often, don't you think? Out of the blue, in an unexpected moment, with no prompting whatsoever.

Now if I could just use my powers for good . . .

One of my all-time favorite TV shows is “Home Improvement” which follows the escapades of Tim “The Toolman” Taylor and his family. There are a lot of shows that I watched in my formative years that I thought were so fantastic and cutting edge at the time, only to watch them as an adult and think, “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen!” That’s a WHOLE other blog, though. In one episode, I remember Tim turning pensive and saying, “Now I just need to use my powers for good.” It’s always stuck with me, especially in my work with children. I was always trying to get the kids I worked with to use their powers for good. But nowhere have I labored in such an endeavor as I have with Sonny. You may remember Sonny from a previous post. He’s come a long way since even then. Sonny struggles, yet has gone from being a child who could quite possibly be the most stubborn boy on the face of the planet, to a boy who follows directions and asks me to give him homework. His dogged and sometimes violent determination to hold to his purpose, rational or not, would definitely be a power that would serve him well if he used it for good. There was a time when I wasn’t certain we’d ever get a handle on it and he’d be able to function in the “real world”. So I observe him with amazement and wonder as we entered this school year. Sonny hasn’t had an all-out-blow-out tantrum at all this school year. He is reading better than anybody else in class and he’s the youngest. It’s as though everything we’ve taught him over the past 4 years has always been there floating around in his little brain and now it’s all connecting like puzzle pieces. I’m tickled at his progress and thankful.

In his heart he truly is a kind and giving spirit. He shares with his friends and desires to please, most of the time, anyway. The thing that has really caught my attention this year though is his pursuit to interact with his peers who are “normal”. Everyday since school started, he has gone out at lunch recess and found the group of boys that are playing football. My heart stops beating as I watch. They don’t invite him right in, but they don’t run him off either. He just stands among them waiting for the opportunity for the ball to come his way. One day he saw it and he took it. A kid kicked the ball pretty high into the air and Sonny got right under it and caught it . . . with his face! But he held on to that ball. I was about to run out and take care of him, as he was holding his eye with one hand and the ball in the other, but I quickly saw that he didn’t need my help. He stood up turn and looked to his friends and held the ball up in victory. They all came running and pat him on the back, excited for him. He has started to bring his own football and basketball. The little boy who used to cling to my leg goes to where the football or basketball game is and waits for his moment to join the game or even start one of his own.

What does all this have to do with Sonny using his powers for good? Persistence is one of Sonny's gifts. That same dogged determination that made him a powerhouse in a power-struggle with his teacher is serving him as he sets out to do the things he loves. It’s required a great amount of stubbornness on my part to work with him. It has served me well, yet I envy Sonny. I envy his innocence and his persistence in the big picture of his life. I grow weary of trying most of the time in my own life. I complain and fret about my weaknesses in frustration, whining, sometimes demanding God, “Why can’t You just fix me?” Or when I felt like I’ve been persistent enough prayer but don’t get the results I expected. Or when I have to work harder than people around me to accomplish something. I grow weary and stubbornly stop trying to find my place in the game where God wants me to be using my powers for good.

I pray hard for Sonny. I pray to be more like him, think like him. He has more working against him at 9 than I've ever had, but he doesn’t let his challenges hold him back. He doesn’t let circumstances or fear keep him from trying. He dreams of playing football and basketball someday. It doesn’t occur to him to quit. The most stubborn boy on the face of the planet is going to be a part of the game.

Back from the Coma

Whoa! I've been gone a LONG time! I didn't fall off the face of the earth and the world inside my head has not gone dark. I just moved. I moved from my home of 8 years to my home for the next whatever. Three bedrooms and two bathrooms is a little much, even for a dog as energetic as Sophie. Unfortunately, the one bedroom/one bathroom where we now reside is a little small for her, but she is coping remarkably well--what a trooper!

It was strange to move. I haven't lived in any dwelling much longer than a year since I graduated high school. It was bittersweet. I was looking forward to a smaller space, less to clean and it would force me to let go of things. It's amazing what you hang onto. Most of it is absolute rubbish. Seriously, why did I keep the napkin from the wedding of two people I hardly know and never speak to? I only went for the cake. And then the clothes that I was saving for when I lost weight and could fit into them again . . . ~sigh~ . . . even if I could, it's probably better for society in general that I parted with them.

I have things to tell, but for the moment I just wanted to drop back into cyberspace and say hello. It's great to check in and catch up on the blogs of others. *SMOOCH*