a loud of shoit to be sure :)
This is not about love
'Cause I am not in love
in fact I can't stop falling out
Wouldn't it be nice if knowing me weren't a deterrent to loving me? Figure that one out.
Last night:
"People call me up every day with requests for strange information" -the infallible mum.
If I were an outsider and never knew the context of that quote I would think that my mum were a covert operation specialist. Apparently she has a stalker, or let’s call him Bob the avid fan. I'm not sure how I feel about mom having a Mayberry stalker. He's read every article she's written and occasionally drops in to her sets at the sportsman’s grille. She's an odd lady, my mom, normally of neutral character but every now and then she says something or lets a bomb of personality drop and I stand aghast at this hidden humor emoting from my mum and the realization that perhaps all my humor doesn't reside in my dad's side of the family.
She's currently telling me her thoughts on how large a coffin would have to be to hold a horse. This of course is brought on by a bluegrass song, something about "molly and ten brooks" and a dying horse. It’s a very sad song but hilarious that my mom would contemplate, while playing the bass to the song, the existence and rationale of a horse-sized coffin.
We're an odd balance, mum and I. I have something in my personality that I think scares her, because it’s nothing of her own genetics. I don't know where I get some of the facets of my sometimes morbid being. I'm not sure where I get my taste for heavy metal music or sushi or Brazilian actors. My humor is often edgy, candid and even hindering on the Freudian slips and sexual innuendo appropriate for the current social situation. She doesn't always get some of my jokes or passing comments because we don't travel in the same political or literature circles. I'm not sure if she understands my relationship with ashley but she doesn't judge our close friendship and that makes me happy. She's never shown me any other side to her than the slightly dorky-humored very busy slightly disorganized woman just a few minutes late to every event I can remember in this decade. Our relationship reminds me of the mother and daughter in "anywhere but here," except that my mother would never be so open about promiscuity of any kind. As far as I can remember sex was never even an option, let alone a thought in her mind. I never knew her character flaws aside from the ones I analyzed since preschool, because she never failed to draw a veil over any imperfections. She handles anger with a smile and the sex talk with an awkward conversation and a "miracle of life" video which she fast forwarded the beginning 15 minutes because it discussed evolution. Maybe it’s the culture difference, or a mental stability I can't place my finger on. She was always fair, most of the time, as far as I can remember...a little slow to bequeath independence but that was a good call on her part considering the crowd I hung about when the idea of independence first plunked into my narrow mind. She never discussed literature or politics or social issues with me so in that sense I never matured until I found out my opinions for myself; of course most people live their lives under the banner of their parent's beliefs and never know the difference so perhaps I came out all right in the end. I could analyze all the ways in which I wish she could have done more, been there more, been there less but she brought me up the only way she knew and she did it alone. Granted I had grandmum to step in every now and then but it made babysitting matters much more difficult when we lived 4 states away.
While I was having a particularly distressing episode, ashley was trying to calm me down and reminded me that I never had a male influence in my life, save for the arse of a step dad. Perhaps that is the reason for some of my character flaws and differences. I wonder if I might be more decisive, or less so at having a father figure to fill that role. I wonder if I would be more organized having an entire other parent to assist me through high school in my punctual endeavors. I wonder if things in my life, in my character, might be different if I had had a father, or one who merited the title anyway. The only title Eric ever rendered was "step dick." Coarse I know, but writing is about honesty.
Here's a true story. Most Christians profess their love of life and the Lord when things are going well in life, when they are happy. Keeping that in mind, I find it gloriously ironic and fitting that one of mums friends has just described God being in "full tilt boogie" in his life. This man's wife is taking chemotherapy treatments and in spite of what would normally be an abysmal situation ridding one of their faith and happiness with life and humanity, this man's faith has multiplied. He is happier, kinder, more focused on loving people and loving God; it’s almost as if the exact opposite has happened to his perspective. It gives me hope that our faith in and the existence of God's love isn't contingent upon our situation, good or bad, in life.
Its similar to God's testing of Job, the battle between he and "the satan" (not to be confused with satan the kind of lies, etc, rather the satan was like a dignitary of the high courts of heaven... some malarkey or dogma, but essentially he was an agitator, a prosecutor in the court of heaven) posing that Job truly loves the Lord. Hassatan says, of course he loves you, you idiot! You've given him land, blessings, loads of children, riches and happiness beyond imagination... who wouldn't be all too happy to bless the lord if such were the case of their affairs? God considers for a bit and counters with a proposition that true faith is not situational or subjective to one's happiness, still again asking hassatan to consider his servant Job. It looks as though Job is served upon a platter, and for all my mental battles with this passage, it sometimes looks like this to me as well. God is literally offering Job up as a test, a sacrifice just to see what happens. This of course brings up my own spiritual wonderings of why an infallible and omniscient God would ever require a test to divulge the future acts of a human whom he created if he is admittedly all knowing to begin with. It seems redundant and makes the idea that God is infallible a trite one. This is one of the issues my old testament class had some squabbles on. I had long since given up the idea that the old testament class would have any real message, meshing or spark due to its large size and variety of inhabitants...nothing so autonomous as a Ms. Anglin class of NSA or a Spadafino session...but all the same I hoped the first day that something would amass. oh no... I had to wait till then end of the semester, not two weeks before finals to see any type of rift of personality to this class and who was the poor soul to do it? Why yes, Job. When you get on the topic of predestination and why an all knowing God would even require a test of character if he knows the character already, people tend to get miffed. This miffed and eventually pissed-offedness is spawned from the persons innate frustrations with never being black and white on an issue, and from what I’ve noticed, people can't stand to be gray on the subject of religion. It is or it isn't... at least that is the way of a generalized portion of students in Lee, a church of God institution I might add. Church of God (COG... how nice) is a denomination, rather than a building, a church of God...a denomination I have been steadily opposed to as the year has progressed. One of the main similarities I’ve noticed is that COGS are likened to Calvinists and rather fancy the ideal of predestination. Ash and I have tossed this point around many a time, in fact I and any companions from my old testament class on that fateful day have battered this text until we are faced with a very unfortunate crossroads, neither of which satisfies the spiritual or academically inclined mind. I won’t go into detail about these cross roads because when Professor Hibbard described his version it nearly broke a mutiny in the back rows of the stadium seated classroom.
This afternoon:
I wonder if I use work as an ostrich does the sand. It is not that I am hiding from issues or even backing away from responsibilities from any one person, I am only keeping my brain focused with what would otherwise be a troubled and worried one. In high school if something went amiss it was terrible, horrible, but you still had school to distract you through out the day. My grades senior year were a result of inspiration and unearthing of a diligence I never knew I possessed; all that, and I was getting over a breakup. I was even more determined in my studies, in my distractions if you call it that. A year ago I hid from my troubles with work, but not today. Today I use work as a means to finance my education and my nagging need for flute supplies, and of course, my jolly trip to Pennsylvania. I have been practicing more, but not enough. I have been working more but not as much as my reclusive nature would fancy. God is helping unearth this diligence I once spoke of, and I suppose I must go as far as humanly possible, and let him take it beyond the edge. Right now, work and practice and ashley are the only things keeping me grounded, really the only things keeping me alive. God of course is behind all this, but I wish I had more strength to put him in front of all these tasks. Its so easy to just dive into your music for hours and forget to thank the only would built that ability in the first place. I’m stuck in the middle with this issue too, thanking God after every measure of music as the COGS are so fond of doing. I think it’s a sweet idea but there comes a time, particularly in symphonic band, when we would all do well to have a little more practice time and band time than a devotional. I’m serious about my music, and I become even more so when there is an occasion I need to rise to, when there is an esteemed group of musicians whom I must bust my arse in the practice room just to be at their level to practice with them. Sometimes I wonder why I’m in symphonic band at all, aside from the people. We tour, we do a million things all of which cause ridiculous and useless amounts of stress…and for what, I ask? For me to continually being more and more cynical about the church because I see the same routine every Sunday? I see my band director make the same speech, shake the same fist at sin and go about the moves almost identical to the last church that it hinges on mockery? My brain is screaming “get a new act!” And my heart is screaming “why does it bother me?” I don’t know. I’ve noticed that its ok to not know anything, but to continue to believe, to trust…those are faculties I still posess. Summer will be good for me. I can get right with God through my every other day plan of devotionals with ash, I can expand my awareness, I can read, I can practice so much more because it is I who will be paying for my lessons and the gas money to drive to MTSU…this summer is not a crutch or anything so negative as a distraction, it’s a rebirth and I intend to make use of it.
peace
e
'Cause I am not in love
in fact I can't stop falling out
Wouldn't it be nice if knowing me weren't a deterrent to loving me? Figure that one out.
Last night:
"People call me up every day with requests for strange information" -the infallible mum.
If I were an outsider and never knew the context of that quote I would think that my mum were a covert operation specialist. Apparently she has a stalker, or let’s call him Bob the avid fan. I'm not sure how I feel about mom having a Mayberry stalker. He's read every article she's written and occasionally drops in to her sets at the sportsman’s grille. She's an odd lady, my mom, normally of neutral character but every now and then she says something or lets a bomb of personality drop and I stand aghast at this hidden humor emoting from my mum and the realization that perhaps all my humor doesn't reside in my dad's side of the family.
She's currently telling me her thoughts on how large a coffin would have to be to hold a horse. This of course is brought on by a bluegrass song, something about "molly and ten brooks" and a dying horse. It’s a very sad song but hilarious that my mom would contemplate, while playing the bass to the song, the existence and rationale of a horse-sized coffin.
We're an odd balance, mum and I. I have something in my personality that I think scares her, because it’s nothing of her own genetics. I don't know where I get some of the facets of my sometimes morbid being. I'm not sure where I get my taste for heavy metal music or sushi or Brazilian actors. My humor is often edgy, candid and even hindering on the Freudian slips and sexual innuendo appropriate for the current social situation. She doesn't always get some of my jokes or passing comments because we don't travel in the same political or literature circles. I'm not sure if she understands my relationship with ashley but she doesn't judge our close friendship and that makes me happy. She's never shown me any other side to her than the slightly dorky-humored very busy slightly disorganized woman just a few minutes late to every event I can remember in this decade. Our relationship reminds me of the mother and daughter in "anywhere but here," except that my mother would never be so open about promiscuity of any kind. As far as I can remember sex was never even an option, let alone a thought in her mind. I never knew her character flaws aside from the ones I analyzed since preschool, because she never failed to draw a veil over any imperfections. She handles anger with a smile and the sex talk with an awkward conversation and a "miracle of life" video which she fast forwarded the beginning 15 minutes because it discussed evolution. Maybe it’s the culture difference, or a mental stability I can't place my finger on. She was always fair, most of the time, as far as I can remember...a little slow to bequeath independence but that was a good call on her part considering the crowd I hung about when the idea of independence first plunked into my narrow mind. She never discussed literature or politics or social issues with me so in that sense I never matured until I found out my opinions for myself; of course most people live their lives under the banner of their parent's beliefs and never know the difference so perhaps I came out all right in the end. I could analyze all the ways in which I wish she could have done more, been there more, been there less but she brought me up the only way she knew and she did it alone. Granted I had grandmum to step in every now and then but it made babysitting matters much more difficult when we lived 4 states away.
While I was having a particularly distressing episode, ashley was trying to calm me down and reminded me that I never had a male influence in my life, save for the arse of a step dad. Perhaps that is the reason for some of my character flaws and differences. I wonder if I might be more decisive, or less so at having a father figure to fill that role. I wonder if I would be more organized having an entire other parent to assist me through high school in my punctual endeavors. I wonder if things in my life, in my character, might be different if I had had a father, or one who merited the title anyway. The only title Eric ever rendered was "step dick." Coarse I know, but writing is about honesty.
Here's a true story. Most Christians profess their love of life and the Lord when things are going well in life, when they are happy. Keeping that in mind, I find it gloriously ironic and fitting that one of mums friends has just described God being in "full tilt boogie" in his life. This man's wife is taking chemotherapy treatments and in spite of what would normally be an abysmal situation ridding one of their faith and happiness with life and humanity, this man's faith has multiplied. He is happier, kinder, more focused on loving people and loving God; it’s almost as if the exact opposite has happened to his perspective. It gives me hope that our faith in and the existence of God's love isn't contingent upon our situation, good or bad, in life.
Its similar to God's testing of Job, the battle between he and "the satan" (not to be confused with satan the kind of lies, etc, rather the satan was like a dignitary of the high courts of heaven... some malarkey or dogma, but essentially he was an agitator, a prosecutor in the court of heaven) posing that Job truly loves the Lord. Hassatan says, of course he loves you, you idiot! You've given him land, blessings, loads of children, riches and happiness beyond imagination... who wouldn't be all too happy to bless the lord if such were the case of their affairs? God considers for a bit and counters with a proposition that true faith is not situational or subjective to one's happiness, still again asking hassatan to consider his servant Job. It looks as though Job is served upon a platter, and for all my mental battles with this passage, it sometimes looks like this to me as well. God is literally offering Job up as a test, a sacrifice just to see what happens. This of course brings up my own spiritual wonderings of why an infallible and omniscient God would ever require a test to divulge the future acts of a human whom he created if he is admittedly all knowing to begin with. It seems redundant and makes the idea that God is infallible a trite one. This is one of the issues my old testament class had some squabbles on. I had long since given up the idea that the old testament class would have any real message, meshing or spark due to its large size and variety of inhabitants...nothing so autonomous as a Ms. Anglin class of NSA or a Spadafino session...but all the same I hoped the first day that something would amass. oh no... I had to wait till then end of the semester, not two weeks before finals to see any type of rift of personality to this class and who was the poor soul to do it? Why yes, Job. When you get on the topic of predestination and why an all knowing God would even require a test of character if he knows the character already, people tend to get miffed. This miffed and eventually pissed-offedness is spawned from the persons innate frustrations with never being black and white on an issue, and from what I’ve noticed, people can't stand to be gray on the subject of religion. It is or it isn't... at least that is the way of a generalized portion of students in Lee, a church of God institution I might add. Church of God (COG... how nice) is a denomination, rather than a building, a church of God...a denomination I have been steadily opposed to as the year has progressed. One of the main similarities I’ve noticed is that COGS are likened to Calvinists and rather fancy the ideal of predestination. Ash and I have tossed this point around many a time, in fact I and any companions from my old testament class on that fateful day have battered this text until we are faced with a very unfortunate crossroads, neither of which satisfies the spiritual or academically inclined mind. I won’t go into detail about these cross roads because when Professor Hibbard described his version it nearly broke a mutiny in the back rows of the stadium seated classroom.
This afternoon:
I wonder if I use work as an ostrich does the sand. It is not that I am hiding from issues or even backing away from responsibilities from any one person, I am only keeping my brain focused with what would otherwise be a troubled and worried one. In high school if something went amiss it was terrible, horrible, but you still had school to distract you through out the day. My grades senior year were a result of inspiration and unearthing of a diligence I never knew I possessed; all that, and I was getting over a breakup. I was even more determined in my studies, in my distractions if you call it that. A year ago I hid from my troubles with work, but not today. Today I use work as a means to finance my education and my nagging need for flute supplies, and of course, my jolly trip to Pennsylvania. I have been practicing more, but not enough. I have been working more but not as much as my reclusive nature would fancy. God is helping unearth this diligence I once spoke of, and I suppose I must go as far as humanly possible, and let him take it beyond the edge. Right now, work and practice and ashley are the only things keeping me grounded, really the only things keeping me alive. God of course is behind all this, but I wish I had more strength to put him in front of all these tasks. Its so easy to just dive into your music for hours and forget to thank the only would built that ability in the first place. I’m stuck in the middle with this issue too, thanking God after every measure of music as the COGS are so fond of doing. I think it’s a sweet idea but there comes a time, particularly in symphonic band, when we would all do well to have a little more practice time and band time than a devotional. I’m serious about my music, and I become even more so when there is an occasion I need to rise to, when there is an esteemed group of musicians whom I must bust my arse in the practice room just to be at their level to practice with them. Sometimes I wonder why I’m in symphonic band at all, aside from the people. We tour, we do a million things all of which cause ridiculous and useless amounts of stress…and for what, I ask? For me to continually being more and more cynical about the church because I see the same routine every Sunday? I see my band director make the same speech, shake the same fist at sin and go about the moves almost identical to the last church that it hinges on mockery? My brain is screaming “get a new act!” And my heart is screaming “why does it bother me?” I don’t know. I’ve noticed that its ok to not know anything, but to continue to believe, to trust…those are faculties I still posess. Summer will be good for me. I can get right with God through my every other day plan of devotionals with ash, I can expand my awareness, I can read, I can practice so much more because it is I who will be paying for my lessons and the gas money to drive to MTSU…this summer is not a crutch or anything so negative as a distraction, it’s a rebirth and I intend to make use of it.
peace
e