You know when you hit that point, writing a paper, in which you realize that you really really really don't want to write the paper? No matter how good the topic is? No matter how much you really do want to finish it? No matter how interesting it will to re-read, after you finish it? You just don't want to write it...
For some people, that point in time hits earlier as opposed to later... for me, I have been sitting in front of my computer for the last 6 hours, attempting to finish what will be a very interesting paper, when I finish it. But I realized approximately 3.5 minutes ago, that I really am tired of writing it. How did I come to this realization? Well, a couple of things came together....
... I had a huge craving and really felt that it was absolutely necessary to clean my stove burner liners immediately. I mean, really, to the degree of national emergency...
... I also had a strange desire to try and fix my heater. By myself. And it's not broken. But all of a sudden, I thought it would be fun to learn how to fix it, on the off chance that it ever broke.
... and finally, I found myself having typed the line "Harvey, get me out of here!" at least three times at various points in my paper.
Apparently, it's time for a break...
Friday, January 25, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Rest in Peace
Yesterday night, at 11:08pm, a very tragic event occurred.
Ladies and Gentlemen, for those of you who have known me for some time... or even those who haven't known me for as long... you will understand the depths of my woe, when you hear of this travesty.
At 11:08pm, I laid to rest a very dear friend, who had been with me for many a year. Every morning, he would greet me with fresh, hot coffee... never breakfast in bed, just a warm and comforting cup o' joe. Without fail, when I needed him at any point throughout the day, he would rise to the challenge-- he could always stand the heat. He was, in a word, my constant companion.
Yes, dear friends, at 11:08pm, I laid to rest Giacomo, my faithful brewer and energizing enthusiast.... my coffee pot. The small crack which had been ruminating around his wide base expanded to envelop him... and my dear friend ceased to metaphorically and physically "hold water" or be able to "stand the heat." We have had many a good year, dear friend.
Giacomo, rest in peace.
Rest of the world, have mercy. For the rest of the week, my caffeine levels will be slightly different-- who knows what effect that might have, as I grieve and mourn my loss. :-)
Ladies and Gentlemen, for those of you who have known me for some time... or even those who haven't known me for as long... you will understand the depths of my woe, when you hear of this travesty.
At 11:08pm, I laid to rest a very dear friend, who had been with me for many a year. Every morning, he would greet me with fresh, hot coffee... never breakfast in bed, just a warm and comforting cup o' joe. Without fail, when I needed him at any point throughout the day, he would rise to the challenge-- he could always stand the heat. He was, in a word, my constant companion.
Yes, dear friends, at 11:08pm, I laid to rest Giacomo, my faithful brewer and energizing enthusiast.... my coffee pot. The small crack which had been ruminating around his wide base expanded to envelop him... and my dear friend ceased to metaphorically and physically "hold water" or be able to "stand the heat." We have had many a good year, dear friend.
Giacomo, rest in peace.
Rest of the world, have mercy. For the rest of the week, my caffeine levels will be slightly different-- who knows what effect that might have, as I grieve and mourn my loss. :-)
Monday, January 21, 2008
True Friendship
"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares." (Henri Nouwen)
Today, I am grateful for the true friends, with whom I can share my deepest, darkest self, eyes squeezed tight to keep in tears, fists clenched, heart pounding.... and when I open my eyes, they are still there, sitting in silence, listening, praying, believing for me, and loving me just as I am.
I am blessed to have such people in my life. And I thank God for them-- for you--today!
Today, I am grateful for the true friends, with whom I can share my deepest, darkest self, eyes squeezed tight to keep in tears, fists clenched, heart pounding.... and when I open my eyes, they are still there, sitting in silence, listening, praying, believing for me, and loving me just as I am.
I am blessed to have such people in my life. And I thank God for them-- for you--today!
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Mo(u)rning
So today, the sun rose. The clouds burst, revealing bright blue sky behind them. And the temperatures, frigidly remaining in the lower twenties, gave life to a beautiful millimeter worth of snow and ice.
Ah yes, welcome to NC, wherein we cancel schools, churches, and all normal activities, on the mere threat of winter weather. Everything except for Walmart is on standby (but that's another monologue in the making). Yet perhaps it is fitting that Chapel Hill finds itself shutdown, delayed, and rather slow this morning, since today is a day of mourning on the Hill.
Yesterday, the unthinkable happened. The Tarheels, perfect by all official records until yesterday, suffered a heart-wrenching loss to the Maryland Terrapins. Our once spotless 18-0 record has now been tarnished by the devilish turtles, who squeaked out a hard-fought 82-80 victory in the final seconds of the game, over the brave men in blue.
As the Carolina students left the stadium, there were tears streaming down their faces. Tarheels painted on their cheeks turned in blue smears, as students mourned, wept, wailed, to varying degrees.
Seventy years ago, in 1938, a man named Robert McManeus (class of 1938) left the stadium after a similarly heartbreaking defeat... that time, not on a snowy day, but on a rainy day. And that time, not after a defeat by Maryland, but rather after a defeat by Duke. He came home, and he wrote a song... He wrote it in a moment of defeat, but he wrote it out of hope and anticipation that future Carolina victory was certain. That song, which we are now familiar with as the Carolina Victory song, was written in anticipation and hope...
So, today, in the face of defeat, but turned once again resolutely towards victory, we join you in singing:
There'll be a Carolina victory
When cross the field our foe has fled
Cheer our team to Victory
Glory, glory U-N-C
Our hearts will live with thee
Rah, Rah, Rah!
Fight! Fight! Fight!
For the blue and white
Are rolling to victory!
Ah yes, welcome to NC, wherein we cancel schools, churches, and all normal activities, on the mere threat of winter weather. Everything except for Walmart is on standby (but that's another monologue in the making). Yet perhaps it is fitting that Chapel Hill finds itself shutdown, delayed, and rather slow this morning, since today is a day of mourning on the Hill.
Yesterday, the unthinkable happened. The Tarheels, perfect by all official records until yesterday, suffered a heart-wrenching loss to the Maryland Terrapins. Our once spotless 18-0 record has now been tarnished by the devilish turtles, who squeaked out a hard-fought 82-80 victory in the final seconds of the game, over the brave men in blue.
As the Carolina students left the stadium, there were tears streaming down their faces. Tarheels painted on their cheeks turned in blue smears, as students mourned, wept, wailed, to varying degrees.
Seventy years ago, in 1938, a man named Robert McManeus (class of 1938) left the stadium after a similarly heartbreaking defeat... that time, not on a snowy day, but on a rainy day. And that time, not after a defeat by Maryland, but rather after a defeat by Duke. He came home, and he wrote a song... He wrote it in a moment of defeat, but he wrote it out of hope and anticipation that future Carolina victory was certain. That song, which we are now familiar with as the Carolina Victory song, was written in anticipation and hope...
So, today, in the face of defeat, but turned once again resolutely towards victory, we join you in singing:
There'll be a Carolina victory
When cross the field our foe has fled
Cheer our team to Victory
Glory, glory U-N-C
Our hearts will live with thee
Rah, Rah, Rah!
Fight! Fight! Fight!
For the blue and white
Are rolling to victory!
Friday, January 11, 2008
Evange-date, anyone?
I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry: Date to Save (Check out the 10 Dating Tips)
If she's for real, then I think I want to cry.
Otherwise, it's hilarious.
And it comes with T-shirts.
Wow.
If she's for real, then I think I want to cry.
Otherwise, it's hilarious.
And it comes with T-shirts.
Wow.
Monday, January 7, 2008
Plain English, please!
The word "insinuate" first appeared in 1526, and stems from the Latin "insinuatus" from "insinuare" which means to "bring in by windings and curvings, to wind one's way into."
One day some friends and I were in the car, driving from a wedding to the reception, and had a fascinating conversation about insinuations or "hints" and "girl speak." You know what I'm talking about... those subtle hints which supposedly every woman is gifted in giving, and which, according to stereotype, every man is unable to comprehend. I somehow missed the memo inducting me into this secret society at birth, and as a result, am perpetually bad at both subtle insinuations and "hints" (both giving off and comprehending).
Our conversation was jump-started by one woman's comment to her fella' that she was going to the bathroom. According to one woman, this meant "follow me now, fool; we need to talk." Yet to another woman in my car, it meant "man, I need some space, leave me alone." To me, it just meant, "I've had too much to drink, and nature needs to take its course." But this brings me to my point...
Why do we beat around the bush? Why do we insinuate, hint, give "signals," rather than just tell the truth or say what we mean? And yes, while women tend to do this more, it is by no means a gender-specific observation... guys, you do it too. But the question is, why?
Do we do it to be "nice" or "kind"? to soften truth?
Do we do it because it's cute?
Do we do it to be subtle in our true intent? (Subtle, by the way, comes from the Latin meaning "thin in consistency.")
Do we do it out of fear, hoping the other person will "figure it out" so that we don't have to actually say what we mean?
I'll get off my soap box now.
But my point is this: who are we serving when we communicate through insinuations, hints, and subtle signals? Half of the time they just cause confusion, quarrels, and misunderstandings...
Wouldn't it be better if we would just felt the freedom to "speak the truth in love"?
Say what you mean. Say it directly, not cloaked or hidden. But say it in love. Receive it in love. And save the interpretation and translation for foreign languages.
One day some friends and I were in the car, driving from a wedding to the reception, and had a fascinating conversation about insinuations or "hints" and "girl speak." You know what I'm talking about... those subtle hints which supposedly every woman is gifted in giving, and which, according to stereotype, every man is unable to comprehend. I somehow missed the memo inducting me into this secret society at birth, and as a result, am perpetually bad at both subtle insinuations and "hints" (both giving off and comprehending).
Our conversation was jump-started by one woman's comment to her fella' that she was going to the bathroom. According to one woman, this meant "follow me now, fool; we need to talk." Yet to another woman in my car, it meant "man, I need some space, leave me alone." To me, it just meant, "I've had too much to drink, and nature needs to take its course." But this brings me to my point...
Why do we beat around the bush? Why do we insinuate, hint, give "signals," rather than just tell the truth or say what we mean? And yes, while women tend to do this more, it is by no means a gender-specific observation... guys, you do it too. But the question is, why?
Do we do it to be "nice" or "kind"? to soften truth?
Do we do it because it's cute?
Do we do it to be subtle in our true intent? (Subtle, by the way, comes from the Latin meaning "thin in consistency.")
Do we do it out of fear, hoping the other person will "figure it out" so that we don't have to actually say what we mean?
I'll get off my soap box now.
But my point is this: who are we serving when we communicate through insinuations, hints, and subtle signals? Half of the time they just cause confusion, quarrels, and misunderstandings...
Wouldn't it be better if we would just felt the freedom to "speak the truth in love"?
Say what you mean. Say it directly, not cloaked or hidden. But say it in love. Receive it in love. And save the interpretation and translation for foreign languages.
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