My favorite part...
I went to a wedding yesterday. It wasn't fancy. Neither the bride nor the groom have much cash to sink into ceremonial stuff. It didn't matter to me, though. It didn't affect my favorite part. Weddings have many good parts to me. I like to see the decorations, I like to look at the flowers and the colors. I like to hear the music. But those aren't my favorite parts. My favorite part isn't even the bride coming down the aisle, beaming and shaking in her beautiful gown. My favorite part is watching the face of the groom when he gets his first glimpse of his bride coming down the aisle. If there's anything that will make me cry at a wedding, it's that. I think my all time favorite groom to watch was Jeremy Kagan. The second Melissa appeared, he almost lost it. He only had eyes for that beautiful creature walking toward him, and those eyes were filled with tears. That moment alone made every minute of work I put in on that wedding totally worth it. Including the hot glue burns on my fingers and the marks on my dresser mirror where I accidentally glued Melissa's veil to it.
It's time to take off this nail polish and redo my nails. The chips won't stay repaired any longer, a sure sign that I just need to give up and strip off the polish. It's been a very red week. Not OPI this time...Essie's Final Answer, which is a hot metallic red. When I wear red, I am generally in an "I mean business" mode in the Spirit. Red on my fingers means war. Don't know why...it just does.
If I were in Ohio, it would be autumn. But I'm in Florida, and it just means I'm in late summer, sometime after "Stinkin' Hot" and sometime before "Damp and Cool". Right now my windows are open and cool air is drifting in, something that doesn't happen very often here due to outrageous humidity and allergens.
Went to see The Greatest Game Ever Played last night. It was quite good. It wasn't really about golf so much as it was about some guys who played golf. I don't know squat about golf and don't care to, either. You could say I'm violently disinterested in golf. But this movie...this was a Waking The Deadkind of movie. About heart. About passion. About the battle to believe in one's own worth. About how the enemy is so often found in our own ranks, eager to oppose us and betray us. And about how allies can come in the most unlikely packages. I also liked that I could whole-heartedly recommend the movie to anyone and not worry about them being offended by sex or cussing or violence or lewdness of some sort. There simply wasn't any. I'm not even sure what they did to earn their PG rating.
I am becoming very weary of repackaged religion. Brussel sprouts are still brussel sprouts, no matter how much melted velveeta you dump over them. They still taste like a fart smells. So does religion.
Just give me Jesus...
<>{
It's time to take off this nail polish and redo my nails. The chips won't stay repaired any longer, a sure sign that I just need to give up and strip off the polish. It's been a very red week. Not OPI this time...Essie's Final Answer, which is a hot metallic red. When I wear red, I am generally in an "I mean business" mode in the Spirit. Red on my fingers means war. Don't know why...it just does.
If I were in Ohio, it would be autumn. But I'm in Florida, and it just means I'm in late summer, sometime after "Stinkin' Hot" and sometime before "Damp and Cool". Right now my windows are open and cool air is drifting in, something that doesn't happen very often here due to outrageous humidity and allergens.
Went to see The Greatest Game Ever Played last night. It was quite good. It wasn't really about golf so much as it was about some guys who played golf. I don't know squat about golf and don't care to, either. You could say I'm violently disinterested in golf. But this movie...this was a Waking The Deadkind of movie. About heart. About passion. About the battle to believe in one's own worth. About how the enemy is so often found in our own ranks, eager to oppose us and betray us. And about how allies can come in the most unlikely packages. I also liked that I could whole-heartedly recommend the movie to anyone and not worry about them being offended by sex or cussing or violence or lewdness of some sort. There simply wasn't any. I'm not even sure what they did to earn their PG rating.
I am becoming very weary of repackaged religion. Brussel sprouts are still brussel sprouts, no matter how much melted velveeta you dump over them. They still taste like a fart smells. So does religion.
Just give me Jesus...
<>{