I fainted in mass last Sunday. Man caught me. I survived. The end.
I think the brevity of that story may be the effects of NaNoWriMo.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
NaNoWriMo
As I breeze through this NaNoWriMo season, I'm realizing I'm a perfectionist. I'm in love with my story plot for NaNoWriMo, and I don't want to botch it up. I actually think I am going to try to get it published in the end, after I clean it.
I just love it that much. That might sound narcissistic, or something, but I think authors should be excited about their work. I think it should mean a lot to them. Take Louisa May Alcott, or "Jo", in "The Little Women". She made several attempts to write books, but it wasn't until the story about her family that she became passionate in her writing. It showed.
I have made several attempts at writing novels before, and I am not ashamed to admit they did not measure up. This is the only time that I feel engrossed in my story. That I'm excited about the story. The introduction doesn't do it justice really, and I already know there is going to be somewhat of a re-write of it. But that is a part of the process.
So, I suppose my NaNoWriMo tip is to truly care about what you are writing about. I think NaNoWriMo is good to some extent, because it gives people a jumping off point, but last year I just babbled on and on with no direction. A good story can motivate an author to write it though, so I would recommend having a good story to work with in the beginning.
My idea is inspired from an interview I did with a man four years ago. (I am a journalist. I aspire to be Mark Twain...sort of.) Anyway, I am drawing on this man's experiences. I am planning trips to experience some of these things myself. I don't want to tell you the plot right now. But maybe one day you will be able to read it. ::Crosses fingers.::
Another tip is to read good stories by good authors. I like to read fiction as well as true stories. I recommend: Sinatra story
I also recommend Twain, Dickens, Lewis or Proust. Challenge yourself to write at that level, and it will happen.
I just love it that much. That might sound narcissistic, or something, but I think authors should be excited about their work. I think it should mean a lot to them. Take Louisa May Alcott, or "Jo", in "The Little Women". She made several attempts to write books, but it wasn't until the story about her family that she became passionate in her writing. It showed.
I have made several attempts at writing novels before, and I am not ashamed to admit they did not measure up. This is the only time that I feel engrossed in my story. That I'm excited about the story. The introduction doesn't do it justice really, and I already know there is going to be somewhat of a re-write of it. But that is a part of the process.
So, I suppose my NaNoWriMo tip is to truly care about what you are writing about. I think NaNoWriMo is good to some extent, because it gives people a jumping off point, but last year I just babbled on and on with no direction. A good story can motivate an author to write it though, so I would recommend having a good story to work with in the beginning.
My idea is inspired from an interview I did with a man four years ago. (I am a journalist. I aspire to be Mark Twain...sort of.) Anyway, I am drawing on this man's experiences. I am planning trips to experience some of these things myself. I don't want to tell you the plot right now. But maybe one day you will be able to read it. ::Crosses fingers.::
Another tip is to read good stories by good authors. I like to read fiction as well as true stories. I recommend: Sinatra story
I also recommend Twain, Dickens, Lewis or Proust. Challenge yourself to write at that level, and it will happen.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Quick thoughts (10-17-10)
Thoughts for the day:
- Dear Dairy Queen patrons, I promise I was swatting at a fly with my straw not at the air. Stop looking at me.
- Dear Dairy Queen employees, I think it is creepy that there about 20-25 raccoons in the dumpster next to your building. I think it's even creepier that one of your employees didn't even flinch when he threw a bag of garbage in there for the 'coons to feast on.
- Henry is my friend. I love Henry.
- Ohhhh, we're halfway there. Ohhh, oh. Living on a prayer! Four down. Four more to go.
- It's OK Max. That was just N--- farting. I know it's scary, but don't worry.
- Anyone excited for the seventh movie installment of Harry Potter? I am! I am!
- I just love spending nearly $600 on car repairs! May I have another?
- "Consider pure joy my brothers when you encounter various trials. For you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. And let perseverance be perfect, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." - James 1
- Smilie face.
- Dear Dairy Queen patrons, I promise I was swatting at a fly with my straw not at the air. Stop looking at me.
- Dear Dairy Queen employees, I think it is creepy that there about 20-25 raccoons in the dumpster next to your building. I think it's even creepier that one of your employees didn't even flinch when he threw a bag of garbage in there for the 'coons to feast on.
- Henry is my friend. I love Henry.
- Ohhhh, we're halfway there. Ohhh, oh. Living on a prayer! Four down. Four more to go.
- It's OK Max. That was just N--- farting. I know it's scary, but don't worry.
- Anyone excited for the seventh movie installment of Harry Potter? I am! I am!
- I just love spending nearly $600 on car repairs! May I have another?
- "Consider pure joy my brothers when you encounter various trials. For you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. And let perseverance be perfect, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." - James 1
- Smilie face.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Ice cream man
So earlier today around 5 p.m. I posted this to my Facebook "Crystal hears an ice cream truck but knows if she went to chase it she would never find it." I was at my house.
At 7 p.m. I was in Mansfield, miles away from my home, shooting some photos of a fire sprinkler demo (which was more exciting than it sounds). After the demo I headed for the shiny beacon of light in Mansfield, otherwise known as the BP gas station. There was zero light aside from this gas station. As I was pulling up, I paused for a moment trying to comprehend what was before my eyes. An ice cream truck. How funny is that?
The excitement was brief, however.
At first I thought I might try to buy some ice cream, believing this happening must be a sign. But after seeing that shop looked closed up and the guy was getting gas, I decided to leave it alone. As I started to get gas, the ice cream man, who was a bulky guy with blonde scraggly hair, started talking to himself. Now, remember I'm at a gas station in a town that has maybe a handful of people in it. And it was dark. And the gas station attendant looked disinterested and spaced out. So, here is this ice cream man, who I've now imagined is a rapist, muttering to himself nonsensically. And I'm slowly plotting what I'm going to do if he attacks. I'm thinking, "I'll throw a shoe at him." "I'll scream." "I'll run." Etc. Then, I start thinking that maybe the ice cream truck noise that I heard earlier was actually foreshadowing my demise (because apparently now my life is like a novel that has foreshadowing). I held my ground, though, looking over my shoulder constantly and staying alert. I kept it pretty cool until the ice cream man finished gassing up. He lingered there for a moment, and then started stretching in the middle of the gas station parking lot, looking at me. Creepy. He then got into the back of his ice cream truck, moving stuff around. That's when I decided to stop filling up my tank and book it. As I'm scrambling, (spilling a little gas on the ground in the process) this man is just looking at me. Thankfully, another car pulled up around this time. The ice cream man looked at him and then went into the gas station. I left safe and sound, cheering that I made it out alive. Because, obviously, I was going to die otherwise ;). Oh paranoia. Gotta love it.
I later told Nick about the incident, and he told me I needed to stop putting myself in those situations and to always keep my gas tank full when I go into strange towns. Funny, I never pegged Mansfield as a strange town. It fooled me. Just like the BP gas station did. Oh darn you BP beacon of light of Mansfield. Darn you. You looked so safe with your shininess.
At 7 p.m. I was in Mansfield, miles away from my home, shooting some photos of a fire sprinkler demo (which was more exciting than it sounds). After the demo I headed for the shiny beacon of light in Mansfield, otherwise known as the BP gas station. There was zero light aside from this gas station. As I was pulling up, I paused for a moment trying to comprehend what was before my eyes. An ice cream truck. How funny is that?
The excitement was brief, however.
At first I thought I might try to buy some ice cream, believing this happening must be a sign. But after seeing that shop looked closed up and the guy was getting gas, I decided to leave it alone. As I started to get gas, the ice cream man, who was a bulky guy with blonde scraggly hair, started talking to himself. Now, remember I'm at a gas station in a town that has maybe a handful of people in it. And it was dark. And the gas station attendant looked disinterested and spaced out. So, here is this ice cream man, who I've now imagined is a rapist, muttering to himself nonsensically. And I'm slowly plotting what I'm going to do if he attacks. I'm thinking, "I'll throw a shoe at him." "I'll scream." "I'll run." Etc. Then, I start thinking that maybe the ice cream truck noise that I heard earlier was actually foreshadowing my demise (because apparently now my life is like a novel that has foreshadowing). I held my ground, though, looking over my shoulder constantly and staying alert. I kept it pretty cool until the ice cream man finished gassing up. He lingered there for a moment, and then started stretching in the middle of the gas station parking lot, looking at me. Creepy. He then got into the back of his ice cream truck, moving stuff around. That's when I decided to stop filling up my tank and book it. As I'm scrambling, (spilling a little gas on the ground in the process) this man is just looking at me. Thankfully, another car pulled up around this time. The ice cream man looked at him and then went into the gas station. I left safe and sound, cheering that I made it out alive. Because, obviously, I was going to die otherwise ;). Oh paranoia. Gotta love it.
I later told Nick about the incident, and he told me I needed to stop putting myself in those situations and to always keep my gas tank full when I go into strange towns. Funny, I never pegged Mansfield as a strange town. It fooled me. Just like the BP gas station did. Oh darn you BP beacon of light of Mansfield. Darn you. You looked so safe with your shininess.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Blue skies
I found this on my computer, so I thought I would post.
I’m inside. My back is to the window. As I type, I see in the screen of my laptop a reflection of the outdoors. Blue skies. Trees blowing in the wind. The sunlight fills my room, revealing the mess within: a pile of clothes, old Barbie boxes from childhood, stacks of books, empty packages, a bag of garbage.
But I cannot feel the wind. I cannot smell the outdoor air. I cannot hear the sounds of birds chirping or the water of the lake flowing. (Can lakes flow? Oh well, I'm keeping it the way it is.)
I can only feel the cool air from the vent blow over me. I can only hear the rattle of my ceiling fan. There’s something distant and cold about the air conditioning. Nothing seems to be the way it should. I should be running through the grass, getting stained knees. I should hear the sounds of laughter. I should hear the breeze. I should be feeling more than the pillow against my back.
Oh, yes, I am surely comfortable. But that’s where my life stops. It stops at comfort. But, of course, that’s where I like it. That’s where I feel my best.
But that nagging feeling of comfort never stops. That nagging feeling that maybe I should be somewhere else, someplace else, feeling, touching, smelling, engaging in life. That nagging feeling that says, “Surely, there is more than just this.” It never stops.
On a lighter note, movie recommendations:
1) Simone
2) Big Fish
3) Monsters, Inc.
4) Multiplicity
5) The Recruit
I’m inside. My back is to the window. As I type, I see in the screen of my laptop a reflection of the outdoors. Blue skies. Trees blowing in the wind. The sunlight fills my room, revealing the mess within: a pile of clothes, old Barbie boxes from childhood, stacks of books, empty packages, a bag of garbage.
But I cannot feel the wind. I cannot smell the outdoor air. I cannot hear the sounds of birds chirping or the water of the lake flowing. (Can lakes flow? Oh well, I'm keeping it the way it is.)
I can only feel the cool air from the vent blow over me. I can only hear the rattle of my ceiling fan. There’s something distant and cold about the air conditioning. Nothing seems to be the way it should. I should be running through the grass, getting stained knees. I should hear the sounds of laughter. I should hear the breeze. I should be feeling more than the pillow against my back.
Oh, yes, I am surely comfortable. But that’s where my life stops. It stops at comfort. But, of course, that’s where I like it. That’s where I feel my best.
But that nagging feeling of comfort never stops. That nagging feeling that maybe I should be somewhere else, someplace else, feeling, touching, smelling, engaging in life. That nagging feeling that says, “Surely, there is more than just this.” It never stops.
On a lighter note, movie recommendations:
1) Simone
2) Big Fish
3) Monsters, Inc.
4) Multiplicity
5) The Recruit
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Football, food, movies and Mancala
What an eventful weekend. Dad and I watched Ohio State crush Illinois yesterday. But Illinois didn't do as bad as expected. Perhaps Ohio took pity on us (I think that's about as much faith as any Illini fan will give at this point).
It was pretty cold, but as dad and I were walking back to the car, we passed a few restaurants before ducking into TGI Friday's. Mom and Nick met us there. Wrestling for the dessert menu, dad dumped a whole glass of Dr. Pepper on me. Since we brought towels to the game (to put on the bleachers) we told the waiter we didn't need cleanup. I think he probably thinks we spill all the time now. Speaking of the waiter, he was awesome. Energetic. Funny. Not annoyingly so, though.
After leaving the restaurant, we headed back home, where I changed my clothes. Nick and I then went and saw Ben Affleck's The Town. It was surprisingly better than expected. There was a storyline that captured my interest and well-done character development, and overall the actors did a good job, albeit Blake Lively's attempt at a Charlestown accent. I'm not sure what a Charlestown accent really sounds like, but hers was definitely distracting and sounded sort of contrived. But again, it didn't really take away from the overall movie.
We then checked out Walmart, and got Mancala. I used to play this game with a friend of mine, and I loved it. So when I saw it, I got a hankering. Good game. Involves a lot of strategizing. We then spent the rest of the evening baking caramel chocolate chip cookies, watching Field of Dreams and The Rookie, and then called it a night. Definitely a good day!
And today, I got to eat Dairy Queen with Liz. The DQ guy was beyond creepy today. He just kept staring. We were the only ones in the restaurant, and Liz and I were watching the TV that was on. The news was talking about breast cancer, so naturally, Liz and I were talking about breast cancer. Then two DQ employees came around the corner and just stood right in front of the TV to watch it. Now, I'm not sure, but aren't employees usually supposed to be working? And aren't the TVs supposed to be for the customers? But anyway, after a few minutes they left. Then one of them came back, sat in the booth directly across from us, and kept looking at us. I'm not sure what the deal was. After all, we were there way before it was time to close, but despite our attempts to ignore him, we decided to leave.
I then proceeded to waste the rest of the evening and am now procrastinating. I still have two stories to write before tomorrow. One is almost done. And the other will get done, too.
Happy Oct. 3!
Weather-o-meter: It's getting breezy. High of 62 yesterday. Bust out the fall boots!
It was pretty cold, but as dad and I were walking back to the car, we passed a few restaurants before ducking into TGI Friday's. Mom and Nick met us there. Wrestling for the dessert menu, dad dumped a whole glass of Dr. Pepper on me. Since we brought towels to the game (to put on the bleachers) we told the waiter we didn't need cleanup. I think he probably thinks we spill all the time now. Speaking of the waiter, he was awesome. Energetic. Funny. Not annoyingly so, though.
After leaving the restaurant, we headed back home, where I changed my clothes. Nick and I then went and saw Ben Affleck's The Town. It was surprisingly better than expected. There was a storyline that captured my interest and well-done character development, and overall the actors did a good job, albeit Blake Lively's attempt at a Charlestown accent. I'm not sure what a Charlestown accent really sounds like, but hers was definitely distracting and sounded sort of contrived. But again, it didn't really take away from the overall movie.
We then checked out Walmart, and got Mancala. I used to play this game with a friend of mine, and I loved it. So when I saw it, I got a hankering. Good game. Involves a lot of strategizing. We then spent the rest of the evening baking caramel chocolate chip cookies, watching Field of Dreams and The Rookie, and then called it a night. Definitely a good day!
And today, I got to eat Dairy Queen with Liz. The DQ guy was beyond creepy today. He just kept staring. We were the only ones in the restaurant, and Liz and I were watching the TV that was on. The news was talking about breast cancer, so naturally, Liz and I were talking about breast cancer. Then two DQ employees came around the corner and just stood right in front of the TV to watch it. Now, I'm not sure, but aren't employees usually supposed to be working? And aren't the TVs supposed to be for the customers? But anyway, after a few minutes they left. Then one of them came back, sat in the booth directly across from us, and kept looking at us. I'm not sure what the deal was. After all, we were there way before it was time to close, but despite our attempts to ignore him, we decided to leave.
I then proceeded to waste the rest of the evening and am now procrastinating. I still have two stories to write before tomorrow. One is almost done. And the other will get done, too.
Happy Oct. 3!
Weather-o-meter: It's getting breezy. High of 62 yesterday. Bust out the fall boots!
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
What a nice, long day
Don't you love Mondays?
Mine started off like any other Monday. Wake up. Get ready for work. Go to work. Sit at desk. Don't move until work is finished (except for the occasional visit to the loo).
To be honest, though, I did get a break today. Since I am leaving Wednesday for Florida, Nick came into town and took me to dinner and dessert. Pizza. Yum. Dairy Queen. Yummier. I said goodbye to Nick; I'll see him in a week or so.
But overall, it felt like a long work day. I wrote. Designed. And tried to stay alert. I think the paper turned out OK. All I need to do is wait for the ads to make it onto the pages, turn them into PDFs and send them to the press. Then, I will be golden.
After coming home, I showered and started thinking about the Wizarding World that I will be entering soon. Have I mentioned I'm very excited about this? I got so excited I decided to pop in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, regardless of the late hour. Great movie. I used to like it least, but I'm starting to like it more and more.
And soon, I will be completely immersed in that world. One more day, and I will be on my way. It is going to be amazing. Honeydukes. Zonkos. Ollivander's. And of course, the castle. Lots of pictures to come.
I also have changed my desktop, showing the famous Potter, Granger and Weasley ready to take on anything. I tried to do a screen capture, but I have decided my computer is too stupid, because it does absolutely nothing...or more likely...I don't have a program that will open up what I have captured. If anyone has any ideas, let me know...
On another note, I am still on the fence about what I want to do in terms of moving out. Rent or buy? Or just stay home? I don't think anyone would vote the last one.
Regardless of that decision, I have decided to purge my room of its excess. It's been a slow process. But the show Hoarders tends to motivate me, so I guess that's a good thing. At least it looks like progress has been made.
Well, I think that is all for now. Light laughs and shiny smiles until we meet again.
Goodnight!
Crystal
Days to HP World: 1
Mine started off like any other Monday. Wake up. Get ready for work. Go to work. Sit at desk. Don't move until work is finished (except for the occasional visit to the loo).
To be honest, though, I did get a break today. Since I am leaving Wednesday for Florida, Nick came into town and took me to dinner and dessert. Pizza. Yum. Dairy Queen. Yummier. I said goodbye to Nick; I'll see him in a week or so.
But overall, it felt like a long work day. I wrote. Designed. And tried to stay alert. I think the paper turned out OK. All I need to do is wait for the ads to make it onto the pages, turn them into PDFs and send them to the press. Then, I will be golden.
After coming home, I showered and started thinking about the Wizarding World that I will be entering soon. Have I mentioned I'm very excited about this? I got so excited I decided to pop in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, regardless of the late hour. Great movie. I used to like it least, but I'm starting to like it more and more.
And soon, I will be completely immersed in that world. One more day, and I will be on my way. It is going to be amazing. Honeydukes. Zonkos. Ollivander's. And of course, the castle. Lots of pictures to come.
I also have changed my desktop, showing the famous Potter, Granger and Weasley ready to take on anything. I tried to do a screen capture, but I have decided my computer is too stupid, because it does absolutely nothing...or more likely...I don't have a program that will open up what I have captured. If anyone has any ideas, let me know...
On another note, I am still on the fence about what I want to do in terms of moving out. Rent or buy? Or just stay home? I don't think anyone would vote the last one.
Regardless of that decision, I have decided to purge my room of its excess. It's been a slow process. But the show Hoarders tends to motivate me, so I guess that's a good thing. At least it looks like progress has been made.
Well, I think that is all for now. Light laughs and shiny smiles until we meet again.
Goodnight!
Crystal
Days to HP World: 1
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Writing bug
The writing bug bit me, so here I am. Yesterday (9-11-10) was somewhat eventful. Nick and I went to Gordyville to a flea market there. It was set up in a large venue that looked like it might also show horses. The most interesting things I saw were some signs that had humorous jokes on them such as one that illustrated a couple who looked straight out of the 50s and the woman in the photo saying something to the effect of: "Do I look like your slave?"
The quips made me laugh out loud. It must have startled the man who was selling the signs, because he said "That's cheap entertainment, isn't it?" I smiled and nodded, but then felt somewhat embarrassed that I was caught enjoying myself. After all, I made a big stink about going to the flea market, because I thought I wouldn't like it. But of course, it's all about what you make it, right?
After we had our fill of strolling by booths of antique dolls, lots of knives, and of course, puppies (?!), we headed back to Nick's apartment for a turkey sandwich. We relaxed for a bit before checking out a house I was thinking about purchasing. I can't quite decide. It's a little townhouse; two bedrooms; two baths; washer and dryer; etc. It was nice. The neighborhood seemed nice. And it's still a possibility, but I just can't decide.
A couple of factors spurred my house hunt. One, "Radical," by David Platt. In his book, Platt challenges those who read or hear his message to give sacrificially. To do that, however, I feel I must first establish exactly what a sacrifice would be for me. As of now, I live with my parents so I continually pack away money. The aim was always to buy a home with that money. But I just can't decide what to do now. My conclusion was I should move out immediately and figure out what a sacrifice would mean for me. The second determinant is Max, which is a story for another day.
Then, Nick and I came back to my parents' house to wait for the softball team party to start. He watched football and I piddled around the web until about 5:30 p.m. When we got to the party we found everyone on the back deck. We played a little wiffle ball, which apparently I'm better at than softball. Our team won. It was amazing. It was sort of like a replay of our season, which was better than last year's record by miles. We placed third overall but had the second best record since the first- and second-place teams tied.
After wiffle ball we ate lots of food from dirt cake (which I made) to brats. Actually switch that from brats to dirt cake. Everyone made super delicious food.
We watched the end of the Illinois game (UI of won) and also played lots of games, which did not really work out for my teammates. Nick and I left a little early and then watched Top Chef at his apartment before I returned home. I liked Ed at first, but he seems to be getting a little mean.
On a side note, I'm not feeling that well. I think it's allergies (clear snot). But it has been constant sneezing and coughing, and I'm feeling a slight headache come on. Welp, back to work. I have a few stories to write before church this afternoon. Happy Sunday!
Days to HP World: 3
The quips made me laugh out loud. It must have startled the man who was selling the signs, because he said "That's cheap entertainment, isn't it?" I smiled and nodded, but then felt somewhat embarrassed that I was caught enjoying myself. After all, I made a big stink about going to the flea market, because I thought I wouldn't like it. But of course, it's all about what you make it, right?
After we had our fill of strolling by booths of antique dolls, lots of knives, and of course, puppies (?!), we headed back to Nick's apartment for a turkey sandwich. We relaxed for a bit before checking out a house I was thinking about purchasing. I can't quite decide. It's a little townhouse; two bedrooms; two baths; washer and dryer; etc. It was nice. The neighborhood seemed nice. And it's still a possibility, but I just can't decide.
A couple of factors spurred my house hunt. One, "Radical," by David Platt. In his book, Platt challenges those who read or hear his message to give sacrificially. To do that, however, I feel I must first establish exactly what a sacrifice would be for me. As of now, I live with my parents so I continually pack away money. The aim was always to buy a home with that money. But I just can't decide what to do now. My conclusion was I should move out immediately and figure out what a sacrifice would mean for me. The second determinant is Max, which is a story for another day.
Then, Nick and I came back to my parents' house to wait for the softball team party to start. He watched football and I piddled around the web until about 5:30 p.m. When we got to the party we found everyone on the back deck. We played a little wiffle ball, which apparently I'm better at than softball. Our team won. It was amazing. It was sort of like a replay of our season, which was better than last year's record by miles. We placed third overall but had the second best record since the first- and second-place teams tied.
After wiffle ball we ate lots of food from dirt cake (which I made) to brats. Actually switch that from brats to dirt cake. Everyone made super delicious food.
We watched the end of the Illinois game (UI of won) and also played lots of games, which did not really work out for my teammates. Nick and I left a little early and then watched Top Chef at his apartment before I returned home. I liked Ed at first, but he seems to be getting a little mean.
On a side note, I'm not feeling that well. I think it's allergies (clear snot). But it has been constant sneezing and coughing, and I'm feeling a slight headache come on. Welp, back to work. I have a few stories to write before church this afternoon. Happy Sunday!
Days to HP World: 3
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Radical
After starting to read David Platt's "Radical," I got the urge to write. I'm reading the book with a group of friends. We're all going at different paces, so it's not necessarily a book club. But we're sort of walking each other through it, and at this point, we're seeing where it takes us.
And it is intense. The book sparks questions that can keep a person up at night. Hence why I am writing this at midnight. But the questions are worth consideration. The questions could mean life or death.
After all, what is the cost of discipleship? Do I truly, honestly, messily follow God's will? Or am I following the American-version of Christianity? Am I going to obey Jesus Christ? Or passively overlook or misconstrue what he commands of me? Do I really have to give up everything in my life? My friends? Family? Myself? And if that's true, am I going to do those things? Will I be called to action? Or will I continue to be sucked into the world of consumerism, capitalism and the pursuit of the "American Dream"? Will I see what the cost of discipleship means?
I don't have the answers and I haven't made decisions to some of those questions yet. I am still processing. Chewing. Pouring over them.
But as I do that I consider the passages Platt quotes. One is of scripture in Matthew: "The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure buried in a field, which a person finds and hides again, and out of joy goes and sells all that he has and buys that field."
Can you imagine being so moved as to sell all you had, because there is a treasure being offered to you better than all your possessions?
Or consider Mark 10:21, which also was quoted, "Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said to him, 'You are lacking in one thing. Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me."
Same question. Can you imagine selling all that you have to give to the poor?
The amazing news from those passages is that Jesus Christ is promising us eternal life. Treasure in heaven. A world greater, more awe-inspiring and beautiful than perhaps the most gorgeous sunset of cherry red and fiery orange. A world we cannot even imagine or fathom. Worth all of our possessions. All of our life. There's nothing gray about that.
That's potent stuff. Stuff of the Bible that was once easy to ignore -- yes, that's what I was doing -- and easy to be lackadaisical about or pawn off as someone else's responsibility. That's clearly not OK, but also brings me to a crossroads. A decision. A decision I am still working through. Pondering. And finally, facing.
At this point, I am still thinking and working through what this will mean for my life. What it will look like. And how I can take to heart the cost of discipleship.
Signing off. Night.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Thoughts for the Day 7-6-10
- When I read past writings, I sometimes impress myself. And I'm always surprised that I wrote something that good. Is that vain?
- This should be remembered always: "That is a good looking shirt, Boo. It makes me want a popsicle. A lime popsicle." - Dad "That's quite a compliment if he's relating it back to food." - Mom
- "Why didn't you wake me up?" - Me "I tried to wake you up at 5:20 and then at 5:30. I told you I wasn't going to come back in again, if you were that tired you just needed to sleep. Your eyes were open, looking at me. You made a noise." - Dad "Oh."
- Sea to Shining Sea guys are cool. They made me tear up a bit.
- TACO BELL is still awesome...It's a part of my not-eating-fast-food diet...That makes sense right?
- I secretly want to be a YouTuber. hahaha.
- I secretly want to be Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
- I started by fictional book writer. Best time to write is when you have had no sleep the day before. Awesome.
- If you read the thought above...it makes no sense. Some writer I am. It should read: I started writing a book (fiction) not "I started by fictional book writer"...What does that even mean? LOL.
- My Dad sounds like Patrick from Spongebob. He was also wearing a very bright orange shirt today.
- My mom's hair smells good today.
- Why do I keep smelling skunks?
- I need to clean my car.
- Fireworks make pretty glitter.
- The lady at Steak N Shake on the 4th was scary. She locked us in the restaurant, and told the people outside to leave.
- Peach milkshakes are awesome. French fries also are a part of my not-eating-fast-food/fried-foods diet.
- Lime popsicles, Patriot Popsicles and Fruit Bar popsicles are freaking awesome. I will always keep these in my freezer.
- I shouldn't have this blizzard. I shouldn't have this blizzard. Mmmm...I love this blizzard.
- I hope I don't drive off the road.
- Question of the day: How many times did I use the word "awesome" in this post?
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
WEB SITE
Working on a site through wordpress...not quite as jazzy as I'm hoping to make it. But boop, here it is --> www.cmligon.wordpress.com
Sunday, March 28, 2010
More thoughts 3-28-10
More thoughts:
- Sin can be very consuming.
- I like salsa and chips. By the way, Pace salsa is not pronounced (pa - chay).
- How DID he get get out?
- Nevermind I know now.
- Maximus!!!
- Sin can be very consuming.
- I like salsa and chips. By the way, Pace salsa is not pronounced (pa - chay).
- How DID he get get out?
- Nevermind I know now.
- Maximus!!!
Thoughts of the day 3-28-10
Thoughts (Sunday) 3-28-10
- Books by the bushel
- Village board meetings
- Future Business Leaders of America
- Catch Me If You Can - movie of Lies
- Brownies
- Nick
- Truth
- Jesus Christ died on the cross...weeping women
- Becoming one.
- Books by the bushel
- Village board meetings
- Future Business Leaders of America
- Catch Me If You Can - movie of Lies
- Brownies
- Nick
- Truth
- Jesus Christ died on the cross...weeping women
- Becoming one.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Forests and trees
I'm not sure if it's because the Forest Preserve is in Mahomet, but I have heard this "seeing the forest for the trees" and "seeing the trees in the forest" several times in lots of contexts.
What's up with that?
And which one is worse?
Don't mean to get all philosophical, but seriously is it better to see detail or is it better to see the overall picture?
I have my thoughts but I want to see if anyone replies first. ;-)
What's up with that?
And which one is worse?
Don't mean to get all philosophical, but seriously is it better to see detail or is it better to see the overall picture?
I have my thoughts but I want to see if anyone replies first. ;-)
Mahomet
For the past week or so, I have been learning about Mahomet. And in the coming weeks, I plan to learn more. And thus far, I like it. I like this town. I like its people.
Everyone has been warm and welcoming. And everyone has been supportive and helping me out with content and filling in news holes.
But what I have liked most so far is learning about the town's rich history. And what a rich history it is.
While I like journalism for the stories I get to hear, I think it is the idea of documenting history that really gets me. Flip through an old newspaper, and perhaps you'll see what I mean. Perhaps you won't, though, and in that case, I will try to explain.
Pick up a tattered paper, the corners curled, the sides ripped. Pick up that tattered paper, yellowed with age, fragile to the touch. Pick it up and flip through it. Carefully, now, you don't want to rip it. And read it. Read what is said. Read about what has happened. Read about the past, even if only a few years ago. And it's amazing that while editors have passed through the town, their words are still there. Frozen in the pages of the newspaper. That's cool. Or maybe it's not and I just like it because that's the nerd in me. But regardless, you get the drift.
But it drives the point home that because those words are frozen in newsprint, accuracy is vital. The words printed on those pages will give insight to the town in the future, and it will be important to have that documented right. The truth must prevail through those pages. It's important. Ever ever so important.
Anyway, while I'm talking on the point of truth, let me tell my favorite myth I've learned.
My favorite piece of information I have learned is that if you dip your feet into the Sangamon River, you will be stuck in Mahomet forever. That certainly plays to my sense of humor. Smiles.
Everyone has been warm and welcoming. And everyone has been supportive and helping me out with content and filling in news holes.
But what I have liked most so far is learning about the town's rich history. And what a rich history it is.
While I like journalism for the stories I get to hear, I think it is the idea of documenting history that really gets me. Flip through an old newspaper, and perhaps you'll see what I mean. Perhaps you won't, though, and in that case, I will try to explain.
Pick up a tattered paper, the corners curled, the sides ripped. Pick up that tattered paper, yellowed with age, fragile to the touch. Pick it up and flip through it. Carefully, now, you don't want to rip it. And read it. Read what is said. Read about what has happened. Read about the past, even if only a few years ago. And it's amazing that while editors have passed through the town, their words are still there. Frozen in the pages of the newspaper. That's cool. Or maybe it's not and I just like it because that's the nerd in me. But regardless, you get the drift.
But it drives the point home that because those words are frozen in newsprint, accuracy is vital. The words printed on those pages will give insight to the town in the future, and it will be important to have that documented right. The truth must prevail through those pages. It's important. Ever ever so important.
Anyway, while I'm talking on the point of truth, let me tell my favorite myth I've learned.
My favorite piece of information I have learned is that if you dip your feet into the Sangamon River, you will be stuck in Mahomet forever. That certainly plays to my sense of humor. Smiles.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
free verse
A poem of Masters II
Truth bleeds through the many characterizations.
With every revelation – perspective, point of view.
But sadness continues through the hard, cold Spoon River.
And the small-town remnant gain insight.
But for what to realize there is no hope.
No hope? Alas, what truth can these poems bring?
But of tyranny of a banker, judge, or harlot?
But what of the happy ending?
Should there not be one?
Truth bleeds through the many characterizations.
With every revelation – perspective, point of view.
But sadness continues through the hard, cold Spoon River.
And the small-town remnant gain insight.
But for what to realize there is no hope.
No hope? Alas, what truth can these poems bring?
But of tyranny of a banker, judge, or harlot?
But what of the happy ending?
Should there not be one?
free verse
A poem of Masters
Tormented until the end, this man –
Who tried to be Whitman, Homer or Faulkner.
But it was Frost who outshined him,
And buried Masters on his own Hill.
Among his own kind -- he judged and condemned.
Must have thought he was better.
But two wives he went through,
Hurting with a touch of masochist,
Leaving a son who will never forget.
But the clack, clack, clack,
Of the passersby speak,
Telling him clearly there’s only crickets.
Tormented until the end, this man –
Who tried to be Whitman, Homer or Faulkner.
But it was Frost who outshined him,
And buried Masters on his own Hill.
Among his own kind -- he judged and condemned.
Must have thought he was better.
But two wives he went through,
Hurting with a touch of masochist,
Leaving a son who will never forget.
But the clack, clack, clack,
Of the passersby speak,
Telling him clearly there’s only crickets.
Happy New Year
Nothing says "Happy New Year" like beating on a set of electronically simulated drums. I wasn't very good at it. I'm not sure if that's because the drums weren't calibrated to the TV or what. But no matter. It was fun regardless.
I don't really have any new year's resolutions. But I will tell you what. I am on a mission to move out of my parent's house. Not that I don't like living at home...it's just time. I'm pretty sure any one of my friends would agree. ;)
Now for some thoughts for the day:
1) I've got the best of both worlds!
2) Sweet niblets!
3) I've been watching too much Hannah Montana?
4) Deep Impact is now a classic.
5) So is Men in Black
6) Did nothing productive. My to-do list is so long.
7) Why is House crazy? I feel tricked.
8) I watched a lot of TV today.
9) I read, too. I like Thomas Rhodes. Even if he's some kind of villain.
the end
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