Friday 30 January 2009

Happy Day!

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Today was a good day. Who said that.... TuPac? Someone like that.... fortunately I don't see myself as being gunned down anytime soon though.

I'm not sure quite where to start with what's good... as I'm on my way out to curry with friends which Rob and I can now afford! Our sixth month of sky-high rent has been paid miraculously yet again, we have the rest of money for bills for the month ahead (it seems that way on preliminary calculations anyways), we're in major credit for gas and that bill's dropped, we just realised that we've made it far enough on our lease that we can leave at one month's notice (upgrade to a larger place with a smaller price hopefully), I've got one letter sorted out for my visa renewal, we're going to get chips on the way home from curry and watch a film (hells yeah!), I think we can now afford to bowl a game for our other friend's birthday, we had a new friend around today who brought her bff so now we have two new friends, my hubster is a happy clam, I bought new socks so my heels aren't hangin out anymore, we thought we were gonna be about £71 short on rent but got a cheque for £35 yesterday then a deposit for $25 then our deposit that we thought would come in on Monday showed up today in the nick of time, what else what else what else?!

Every time I worry about God taking his sweet time on things He always shows up just when it's most needed. He's pretty sweet that way. And while I wish he wouldn't wait so long, I'm glad because it keeps me mindful of who's running this show and who I should trust mostest. And so should you ;0)

Wednesday 21 January 2009

The Wanderer.

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I went to knitting/craft group tonight with the intentions of picking up my needles again after taking a break over Christmas and getting frustrated with it last week. I did pick up the needles, managed to recall casting on, knitted a few stitches and promptly got bored with it. I think I spent more time actually organising the yarn than I did knitting. I'm still struggling with the difference between knitting and purling and I keep sticking my needles through the yarn rather than underneath it.

I found myself on the way home feeling a bit down, envying Anna for her cross-stitching which was becoming a pretty poppy with leaves. I had about four stitches poorly done sitting on the needles. Or did I undo even that? My thoughts carried me away into a familiar introspective examination on my life and my habits.

When I was a child I wanted to be a writer. I wrote a book under the pen name Charlotte. I can't remember what it was about but I'm sure it was pretty fantastic. I think I wrote a few books in the day. Then I went to school and was in a small class with a bunch of boys and I wanted to be a cop just like them. That didn't last long. Then I found myself in high school wanting to own a vintage clothing store. Somewhere mid-year I decided that I'd go back to writing, only not creative writing and be a journalist. That went out the window when I cursed out my editor and walked out on the school paper because she postponed my body piercing piece (groundbreaking stuff in '93). All this time I was heavily involved, if only personally, in campaigns issues, mostly those surrounding animal rights and my own rights which I felt had been infringed upon by the popular and glorified in our school. I've jumped in and out of justice matters from there, which eventually led to my passion for marine biology and the environment (that aided by my former disliking of people and preference for fish).

I thrived at marine biology. I truly for the first time in life, felt like I stood head and shoulders above the rest. I was recognised for my natural giftings and spongy retention of learning the topics. I enjoyed fighting for the rights of fish, marine mammals, and plankton everywhere (especially if it was tropical and I could live in a hut!). I planned on pushing through to a PhD so that I could have my own research and conservation team. I told my advisor this and he laughed at me and said that it was a waste of time (he had himself attained to a post-hole-digger status but I believe he thought it too high for women to seek after the same). Six years into studying the subject, working my ass off, having a job pretty much guaranteed to be created for me, I burned out. I loved the creative side of biology, loved seeing the evidence and glory of the Creator behind it all, but the science didn't do it for me. And the political, beaurocratic BS of it really turned me off (that same advisor soon saw that I was quite capable of a PhD and when I started volunteering in his lab and field work he changed his tune, making me want to vomit on him).

Then I went into ministry. That's definitely had it's ups and downs. The one thing I know with absolute certainty in this life is that whatever I do is for the love of God and that love's expression here on earth. Most days I find myself finally loving people- most days- and wanting God's best for them. So that brings out the activist in me again. And much like the PhD seeker in me who wanted to have my own team, I like organising people and heading things up. I do like doing things, but as you can see from my track record, I get bored quickly and like to shuffle around a bit.

Thus my dilemma tonight. Do I have epic ADD? I would judge my inability to do one particular thing for longer than a few years without becoming unusually twitchy and unable to remain still and focused as something not normal. The reason I judge it so is because the world around me, our culture, defines me by what I do. When people ask, 'what do you do?' they aren't asking for a description of what you find youself doing 8 hours a day, 40 hours a week. They are effectively asking 'who are you?' And because I can't give a definite term to what I do, I can't really seem to give a definite answer to who I am. At the core of me I know that I am creative, individual, experimental, rambling, organisational and most importantly, when all that fails and my mind goes loopy, I am a follower of Christ and I seek to live like He did loving God and others.

I was talking this all over with Rob tonight for the umpteenth time. He helped, as he usually does. He told me something very insightful. Some sports players have contracts to play pro football AND pro baseball. My mind, shaped by culture around me thinks, that's not possible! you've got to do ONE sport and ONE sport only! Apparently that's what some coaches advise the players of also. However, I thought about it and they're the ones drafting these guys to play their respective sport, so they must be good enough for both- better than most. I find that settling. *thanks babe*

So here I am. Jack of all trades, master of a few (or possessing the ability to master a few but the indifference to commit my life to it), bored with some, recreating others. Is indifference bad in this regard? Or is just that I'm designed with a functionality that prefers to invent, create, abandon, destroy, build, hand over, etc.? It always reminds me of the tattoo I carved into my ankle in high school (don't try this at home kiddos): The Wanderer (in Chinese... or so I thought... I probably ended up carving something more like The Chipmunk or just a symbol that ended up looking like a squashed spider). I still find my old way of wandering suits me. As long as I'm wandering in the right direction and making the world a better place, I'll take it.

Monday 19 January 2009

Two fabulous dreams and a new baby!

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As if finding myself in some random episode of The Mighty Boosh, I have experienced some strange and peculiar things in the away world known as 'sleep'.

The first night found me organising a gig for Metallica in my high school town of Camarillo, California- meeting the band at, yes, you surely saw it coming, a Chevron gas station. Apparently word had gotten back to the band that there was no doubt I would find myself screaming like a 12 year old boy band fanatic (which could also have been my experience had I gone to the NKOTB reunion show) and they had prepared to throw me off a bit. Waiting outside the service station with a gal I don't recognise but who was either a business associate or a best friend (hard to tell some days), we suddenly saw the door to our right open and two gigantic cuddly teddy bears march out- teddy bears the size of people. Teddy bears the size of Metallica members.

We naturally rushed at them, knowing it must be them under the costumes- now I say rushed and I really do mean rushed- my logic told me that because they were such large and fluffy costumes, there was ample padding to take the most forceful of 'bear hugs' and so I literally ran and threw myself into the arms of the waiting bear to the left, who was standing arms wide open. I could hear the voice inside sniffling and I thought, wow, could it be that this display of affection has so jarred the unknown metaller into an emotional expression I never saw coming? Of course I was myself all welled up with tears, although I'm glad to say I did it all with the most elegance and composure (not the usual snot works and hyperventilation one would expect). When we finally broke our embrace and stepped away, the teddy bears removed their cuddly heads and a smily and very hot looking James and Lars stood, removing the remainder of their costumes to reveal their typical metal and black profiles for us to gawk at.

Now, I have to admit, I had a crush on Lars in high school. But God only knows why- probably an affinity for dummers. I have my doubts that it had anything to do with his looks or personality. But since waking up from this dream and realising I'd spent the better part of two-dream-minutes embracing Lars and feeling really loved and cherished- not pushed away for a second (and it wasn't because he could feel my chest, considering the mass of bear costume flesh between us). It was because Lars is a good person. And I truly love them even more now.


Dream two took place last night. It was one of those dreams that you're not really sure if it's actually taking place or not. I awakened to the sound of small intruders in the kitchen. Assuming that the mice had found their way in again I stood behind our bedroom door wondering if I should fling the door open and scare them away or if I should carefully open it in order to see what they were up to. I opted for the second mode of entry and was shocked at what I saw.

Rather than the expected rodents I saw kittens. Two lovely little adorable kittens who had come out of our upper cupboard, knocking over a bag of flour that was left on the counter (silly little cute kittens can be so clumsy), and playing softly on the floor. I walked in, smiled and picked them up. Then they explained to me, as kittens do, that there was a hole in the back of the cupboard and they are able to go from flat to flat from within the walls. And now that I think about it, maybe that's the way forward with pest control in London- put kittens in walls! Anyways, so yeah I had a nice little talking to with these cuties, explaining that they were welcome to come and visit but that they would need to be very careful not to tip things over or break anything. They purred in agreement and I sent them back into their hole to get back to their home for the night.


Dreamy, huh? Can't wait to get to sleep tonight and see what's playing in my imagination then!

I've been waiting now for months, knowing that my laptop was on its way out. The disc drive was becoming old and protested quite a lot over Christmas. I have had to restart it on a daily basis several times. Surely there was little time left for it. Thankfully my mom gave me some money to buy a new laptop this weekend but I wouldn't have time to actually go do the shopping til today. So I woke up, this being my day off, took my time a bit with coffee and email. Then as I decided to update my facebook status in honour of my kitten dream, I noticed that no letters were appearing on the screen. I'd managed to shoot off a birthday greeting just minutes before, and then nada. This left me in hysterics, laughing at the irony of the situation. So money in pocket I trapsed out and about (another story in its own right that I don't care to get into) and bought me a new baby who sits in my lap now and actually speeds along and writes lovely little letters for you to read.

Thank God for killer dreams and new technology :0)

Wednesday 14 January 2009

stitching back my sanity

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I'll save you the lame-o details but today I was not in the best of places. The best place to have been, in my mind, would have been under the duvet ignoring the existence of the world as I know it and everyone in it. Life sucked. However, I survived the day without crawling back under the sheets (my dear husband waking me up and coaxing me out with the offer of fresh coffee) but my only aim was to finish the day so that I could in fact get back to sleep. I managed to get to the re-start of our craft group Needlewerk tonight and that proved to be just what the psychiatrist ordered.

I managed to sew my Blindside patch on my coat as I've been meaning to do for several weeks now. I picked up my knitting, got frustrated by it and put it back down. However I was in a much happier place afterwards thanks to good company, a nice drink, and the reward of creativity. Thank God for pursuits such as these (and friends who no doubt were talking to God on my behalf as well). *sigh*

Friday 9 January 2009

Penny for my thoughts? Call 0845......

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I'm currently surrounded by accounting. Receipt book, cheque book, ledger, forms, vouchers, storage, spreadsheets, signatures, figures and decimals- everything but money itself. The fact that I can even string together a logical sentence at present is amazing in itself. Logical it may be but I'm not sure that I have anything of interest to say.

Rob had a job interview "consultation" today. It proved to be time wasted and a ballsy request for £5000+ in exchange for 6 mos-2 years IT training. No job offer or surety. Just a crappy course. Apparently the woman looked at his CV and said something to the effect of 'Oh, I see you have a degree in technology!' Rob's reply, 'No I have a degree in theology' motioning to the line saying B.A. (Hons) Theology. She comes back with the obviously clueless response, 'Oh that's really nice.' Then tonight we're sitting at home and he gets an email telling him 'Good news! We have received and approved your CV and would like to offer you a job with our bullshit company in return for your calling this 0844 number that'll charge you just for ringing, then we'll ask you for £25 so that you can process data from home earning £250-500/week!'

Are people really so ruthless and unethical to use the present economic downturn to rape people out of £5000 for a crap certificate (when these could get a degree with that kind of cash) when all they want is a job, or to con innocent people into calling an expensive number so this company could fork in dough?! I told Rob that I think people suck. He said that people don't suck- these particular people suck, but not all people suck. See... he deserves a job, working with people, helping them, and showing them love, care and support like nobody else could (well certainly I couldn't).

Anywho... seems the theme is money for this post. And ironically, I think we're watching The Counterfeiters tonight, a German flick about people in concentration camps who made phony bills in WWII. Funny day.

Monday 5 January 2009

Socialism to the rescue!!!!! *set to superhero theme music*

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I was just passing through Sainsbury’s the other day (after realising that I’d forgotten my wallet… thankfully before doing any shopping) when I was accosted by a Socialist fellow. I don’t know what made me actually stop to talk to him, perhaps it was just a moment of weakness- not that I disagree with keeping conversation with socialists- just speaking to anyone carrying a bucket and asking for money really.

He quickly handed me a leaflet inviting me to join a young socialists march (which made me smile to think he thought me a youth) taking place, even though a subsequent review of the flyer proved they were using last year’s calendar for this year’s date setting (surely that’s not a socialist hallmark?). Not too interested in marching on behalf of their party, I did engage in some conversatio with the man. Well, I say engage in conversation- perhaps what I should say is that I stood there and listened to him for a good while.

Naturally, as any politically bent individual would do at this time in history, I was informed that nobody was safe- all jobs were at risk, nobody could count on tomorrow’s wages or institutions. The economic crisis effecting the globe would some day end up, decidedly sooner rather than later, knocking on my door and demanding my securities. In the back of my mind all the while I’m thinking that this bloke has no idea about the economic system I subscribe to. I guess the problem was that I was wearing a coat from Top Shop and therefore I was sniffed out as one of those capitalist scum (little did he know that my hoodie underneath heralded a hand-stitched socialist inspired patch proclaiming ‘Join the Revolution’, complete with raised fists and all.)

I digress however. Listening to this well-meaning man who was surely freezing his balls off, snot dripping down his upper lip, a wild look in his eyes as he preached about the saviour, socialism, I could no longer just stand and agree with him on the following points: The middle, working class must be cared for and given a fairer share of the power; Revolution is just around the corner. At that last point I decided I’d heard enough. I explained to the bucket holding man that I agreed with him about caring for the poor and middle classes (actually he didn’t mention the poor, only the middle class), and I certainly agree that revolution will shortly take place. However, I explained, the revolution I believe in and ascribe to begins with the hearts of people- not a political system.

Differing drasticaly in the methods of change, he believing it must start from some dudes on the sidewalk in front of Sainsbury’s to youths marching on behalf of socialist causes, to raising up socialist leaders who will give the power to the people. Personally I’m rather fond of grassroots movements and I’d beg to differ about the approach- I explained that the way I see it, the hearts of people are going to have to undergo revolutionary change that only comes through Christ. Jesus was the most revolutionary thinker of all time. And he did it in a very different way- not from a top-up approach as many would argue on behalf of political parties such as the socialists, democrats, conservatives- whoever really. Jesus argued that revolution comes from the lowest. He really didn’t seem overly concerned by the leaders of his world. He hardly batted an eye at them and he certainly didn’t call their way of doing things into question. What he did was address the lowest of the low. He called them to change, to radical subversive ways of thinking and acting- all motivated by love.

As soon as I mentioned ‘Jesus’ this guy’s nose went up a little bit into the air, as if he smelled more than just my capitalist-aiding coat. Seriously the conversation was over- well not really- he first had to get his bit in about religion and the church and American presidents. First, American presidents have weilded their faith in inappropriate ways. Second, the church is the cause of this whole mess to begin with- she’s apparently in some sort of romantic relations with our governing powers and their capitalist practices.

In the short amount of time that I had left before being abandoned, standing in front of St. Michael’s church in Camden Town, I explained to this fellow that what he must know of Church is all wrong. I told him that in no way is it fair to lump all churches together- he has not been to the church I go to for one. I explained to him that we do agree with some of the tenants of socialism- in terms of supporting the poor (although again, I’d say that he seemed bent only on the middle-class working man), and in terms of agreeing that revolution would happen. He had by this point however tuned out and was only interested in if I wanted a paper for 40p or not. Apologetically- since I indeed had no money in my pocket and furthermore seldom have enough money to buy a 40p paper- I declined.

I’d really be interested in hearing his thoughts when he returned to the table with his colleague. But truthfully, I felt unvalued, rejected because of my faith and my vision of revolution. He could have just as well shoved the bucket over my head and walked away. Is that what socialism is about? Thinking the same? Liberty to think? Or freedom from thought?


Friday 2 January 2009

A New Year, a good book, and a bit of reflection

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Okay, well it’s been quite some time since I last blogged, but I thought it might cause me to be inspired to do more creative writing. Seeing as I’ve got brain lock right now, perhaps it’s actually a much needed exercise. Or it could be that I just don’t do all that well at nearly midnight unless caffeinated.

I found myself very confused this evening after watching Walk the Line when I realised that our neighbours The Electric Ballroom was playing music. With the new year celebrations, Christmas, and just falling out of a very newly implemented schedule, I can’t believe that it’s Friday night. It seems almost like an endless cycle of Friday nights lately- like are we stuck in Groundhog Day or something?! It came as a bit of a shock when mentally I was prepared to finish the film, go lie in bed with my new book Valley of the Dolls, and drift off to sleep around 11:30pm-12:00 so that I could wake up and get some work done in the morning. But alas, Ballroomage taken into consideration I’ve had to whip my brain into the realisation that sleep will be fleeting for another 3-4 hours when the party-goers depart or are kicked out.

This new year and the ending of 08 has been interesting to say the least. I’ve been really struggling with what it is I’m meant to be doing. I mean, working as a minister in London, starting up projects and pressing on in relationships with the goal of demonstrating Christ’s love has changed my mindset a lot. Like somewhat in a bad way. Boundaries have become very blurred, work has sort of taken over my mind. I realise and firmly believe that being a follower of Christ is a lifestyle, not something you work at for 40 hours per week, and therefore being a ’self-employed’ minister, setting my own schedule, coming up with plans on my own, etc is something that becomes difficult to separate from day-to-day living. Like knitting for example. I have wanted to start a craft group for some time, but my automatic response to setting something up is to do it not only to create but to build relationships with like-minded people who just happen to quite probably need Jesus in their lives. Therefore craft group leads to bible study leads to church leads to salvation and a merit for the missionary girl. But why. Why can’t I just knit.

This has come with the simultaneous realisation that time off is important. Yes, that’s right we come back to what God said in the 10 commandments and throughout the Bible about taking a Sabbath. Always growing up to believe it was some sort of vacation from reality to be at church, this thinking doesn’t really help a minister’s lifestyle. Yes, ministers themselves need days off. Of course we all nod our heads in agreement, but when you’re working out your own schedule, dealing with money people have given you to support yourself and your ministry work, you want to squeeze the most out of every last minute. Not helpful. God commanded the Israelites to take one whole entire day off without even thinking about work. Now, most ministers have what we call ‘ministry mondays’ which ironically means time away from ministry. God knows what would happen to the world if we all actually took Mondays off, but alas my Rob and I decided to do so for my mental and physical well being (and that of everyone around us, fearing that I would eventually go postal on them). Mondays follow Sundays if you haven’t noticed, and that means small things like taking an offering to the bank for deposit.

That first Monday was hell at first. I waged conscious warfare with the thoughts of work and ministry and ‘just this one little thing’ until a request to go to the bank and deposit like £5 sent me over the edge. I couldn’t find the paying in book. My heart raced. My head began to welcome in like quick sand all the thoughts of what else needed doing. It was like being sucked into a hole until I said NO I will not go to the bank, it will have to wait til tomorrow. And then birds sang quietly in the background again.

See, when you’re working for yourself or setting your own work schedule, how easy is it to just do one little thing? And in the Old Testament times, most people either were self employed or worked for a family run business. The whole sabbath issue is a justice and humanitarian issue. God was concerned because he knew we’re workaholics (when we’re not lazy as hell) and we just won’t take the time off if we let one little bit of work in.

Now that being said Jesus did say to the religious ultra serious Pharisees that if a guy owned a mule and saw it stuck in the mud on the sabbath he’d be an idiot not to rescue it. So yeah, keep it in perspective, but also have some healthy boundaries. Do yourself some good. So yeah, Mondays are days off now. And knitting is for me. Thank God if I do- and I really hope to- make some friends (I need them) and eventually be a good example of God to them. But for now… I’ll just purl, drink coffee, and eat cake.