this inquiring mind wants to know

Not that I was really working on it, but this morning I think I realized I know one of the first questions - if not THE first question - I want to ask God (after of course spending millions of years prostrate in worship) when I get to Heaven.

It's actually a two-part question:

1. What did he put in coffee that makes it so dang fabulous?
   
   
2. Did the person who thought it might be a good idea to grind up the beans, steep them in boiling water and then drink the juice love Jesus back? ...because I'm gonna want to hug that person for about a hundred years.

random Monday thoughts

I know I'm supposed to be in a montage (which I'm very much enjoying by the way), but I've already had some AHA! moments, which don't usually happen mid-montage. Yay!

I'm falling in love with my church. Double yay! I was already deeply in like with my church, for the record.

I never read To Kill a Mockingbird*, and I HATED Mockingbird: A portrait of Harper Lee. But there is one thing about Harper Lee's life that I absolutely am jealous of...and it's that someone gave her money to quit her job for a year so she could just write. That's amazing.

You can learn a lot from hanging out with 2-year olds.

Specialized and I are going to survive the hills to Austin.


And finally, the John Stott daily email hit another home run today:

A paradox of Christian living:
It is one of the great paradoxes of Christian living that the whole church is called (and every member of it) as much to involvement in the world as to separation from it, as much to 'worldliness' as to 'holiness'. Not to a worldliness which is unholy, nor to a holiness which is unworldly, but to 'holy worldliness', a true separation to God which is lived out in the world -- the world which he made and sent his Son to redeem.

--From "Christ the Controversialist"

*Don't freak out. I didn't read most of what I was supposed to in school. I'm also the girl who never saw Gone With the Wind or Casablanca, etc.

along came dovie

Have you seen "Along Came Polly" with Ben Stiller and Phillip Seymour Hoffman?

In the film, Phillip is a washed up child actor who hires a camera crew to follow him around and tells people that they are doing an "E! True Hollywood Story" about his life. Bless his heart.

I often find myself thinking about my own life as if someone were making a movie of it. I haven't yet pulled together funds to hire my own camera crew, though I'm sure - with the right advertising campaign - the ticket sales would be off the charts.

So, on this whole 'movie about my life thing'...I started to write a post about entering another music montage, and realized I've done that twice already, originally in 2006. But here I am again - nothing new under the sun and all - and looking forward to the next few weeks of music and seeing highlights reel someday.

If you can remember that they really are the stuff of life, montages can be so beautiful.

gutting news

This just in:

Almost all of my training rides for the MS150 conflict with local public showings of the Rugby 6 Nations matches.

Further, Comcast does not provide Setanta Sports in Houston (it's a luxury apparently provided only to their Bostonian customers), so I can’t even order the channel at home and DVR them for later viewing.

I’m positively gutted. Truly. I'm not even close to kidding.

So...if you:
1. Live in Houston
2. Have access to Setanta via Satellite (or some other such thing)
3. Love, like, or can even just tolerate rugby
4. Are looking for a new best friend

...I'm your girl. Call me.

random haikus

Beat up the pavement
I'm not the terminator
But I will be back.

Working can be fun
But vacation is funner
Funner ain't a real word.


...and from a guest author:

The sun is out bright
I'd rather have it snowing
I need my flip-flops.

i thought it was just me

I have a habit of talking to myself. Various reasons. Let's not get into the details. The thing I've noticed myself doing recently is actually asking myself questions...almost in a "give myself a good talkin' to" kind of way. The most common question I pose to myself these days is "Don't you remember that you believe in Providence?"

I'd like to take this as a sign of maturity. You know, in that "I already know the truth in my head , but some days I still fight with my heart to believe it and my feet to walk in it...so I have these little talks with myself to save my BFFs from the chore, since I know what they're going to say" kind of way.

SIDEBAR: I want to say it's ironic that I actually find myself lecturing - strike that, counseling - others with this knowledge that I still sometimes struggle to implement in my own life consistently. But I'm sure this is a more a product of the human condition than me being uniquely plagued with some sort of internal disconnections between my head and my heart (and my feet).

BACK TO THE POINT: Turns out I'm not the only one. Phew! I have been sporadic in my reading of Stott as of late, but today's words were a nice bump for my assurance of sanity, at least on this front. If John Stott talks openly about talking to himself, surely it's ok for me to do the same.

John Stott Daily Thought, 15 December 2008
Growing and Continuing (cont’d.)

485. Living the new life
We need to learn to talk to ourselves, and ask ourselves questions: 'Don't you know? Don't you know the meaning of your conversion and baptism? Don't you know that you have been united to Christ in his death and resurrection? Don't you know that you have been enslaved to God and have committed yourself to his obedience? Don't you know these things? Don't you know who you are?' We must go on pressing ourselves with such questions, until we reply to ourselves: 'Yes, I *do* know who I am, a new person in Christ, and by the grace of God I shall live accordingly.'

On 28th May 1972 the Duke of Windsor, the uncrowned King Edward VIII, died in Paris. The same evening a television programme rehearsed the main events of his life. Extracts from earlier films were shown, in which he answered questions about his upbringing, brief reign and abdication. Recalling his boyhood as Prince of Wales, he said: 'My Father [King George V] was a strict disciplinarian. Sometimes when I had done something wrong, he would admonish me saying, "My dear boy, you must always remember who you are."' It is my conviction that our heavenly Father says the same to us every day: 'My dear child, you must always remember who are you.'

--From "The Message of Romans" (The Bible Speaks Today series: Leicester: IVP, 1994), p. 187.

on missing England

I've been back in Houston for about 3 months now, and I am regularly asked what I miss about England. After giving it some time to settle in...I think the things I *still* miss at this point are the things I'll miss for a really long time.

Here we go with the top 6:

1. Walking for transportation. It's highly under-rated. And it's a handy way to keep you from over-spending on shopping sprees. When you know you're going to have to carry it around the rest of the day...you usually only buy things you can't live without. I passed up many would-be purchases for that very reason, and can't think of a single thing I regret not buying. Except this one pair of fabulous shoes at the Selfridges sale.
   
   
2. The "keep calm and carry on" attitude of the British. Long lines at the check-out? Ridiculously bad customer service? Annoying traveller on the train? Grocery out of baked beans? The English just deal with it. Every time. There's clearly a lot to be said for convenience and instant gratification, but it feels like we've taken it to the extreme in a lot of areas.
   
   
3. Trains. Traveling non-walk-able distances by train is fantastic for people like me who hate driving. Traveling by train also allows for a LOT more leisure reading time than I'm doing these days. Also, I hate driving. Yes, twice on the driving thing.
   
   
4. Proximity to Europe. Much harder to get a positive response to this question when posed from Houston: "Fancy a weekend in Barcelona?"
   
   
5. The "rawness" of life. Partly because because neither perfect teeth nor perfect hair occupy first position on the priority list for most and partly because most Londoners walk and/or take public transport for their daily commute, and in spite of the fact that the British are generally fashion forward...they just look more "raw". There's something about this that I find endearing.
   
   
6. Judgement calls. The English don't expect perfection in anyone, and they are pretty consistently good at withholding judgement based on first impressions and measure worth in a person from the ground upward, rather than from a standard of perfection downward.
   

For the record, there is a growing list of "reasons I'm glad to be back in the States", which I will share in due course.

leisure reading

I can't recommend Jonah Goldberg enough.

His recent articles and commentary on the election have been great reading.

Bookmark his archive page. Visit it regularly.

Do you know about MOVEMBER?

From movember.com:

Movember (the month formerly known as November) is a charity event held during November each year - the challenge is to change the face of men's health. (I'm sure all my pun-loving friends will appreciate that one.)

Men lack awareness about the very real health issues they face. Many feel they have to be tough - "a real man" - and are reluctant to see a doctor about an illness or to go for regular medical check ups.

The aim of Movember is to change these attitudes and make men's health fun by putting the Mo back on the face of men everywhere while raising some serious funds for the number one men's health issue, prostate cancer.

A friend in England is growing a "classic rock star mo" to raise money for the prostate cancer charity. Love it!

But this isn't just for the English...it all started here in the good ol' U S of A. Jump in, boys...there's still time to grow a fabulous mo!!

come one, come all...

The Richmond Arms

Ireland v. New Zealand

11:15am

oh happy day

I suspect that I'll be at the Richmond Arms quite a bit in the coming weeks, and this is why.

Many thanks to my good friend Lesley for confirming the rumor that the Arms is THE place to be.

The fall lead-up to the 6 Nations tournament means I don't have to wait for January to watch the game that is everything American Football wishes it was.

So happy. So very happy.

seriously?

My company is interviewing an ex-rugby player (London Irish) for a job in the London office.

Three years. THREE YEARS I was there...and did they hire any ex rugby players during that time? NO. No they didn't.

Does the HR department know about my affinity for rugby (and rugby players)? YES. Were they trying to marry me off the WHOLE TIME I was in that country? YES.

And how long have I been back in the States? Oh, about two months. Fantastic.

For the record...my work permit and visa are still valid. I'm just sayin'.

Man, this whole "believing in providence" thing is tough sometimes.

breakfast time stream of consciousness ramble

Bread in my cupboard (which begins life as soft and chewy) becomes hard and crunchy when it's getting old. This is why I keep my bread in the freezer.

The lovely crackers I got at Central Market over the weekend (which, conversely, began life as hard and crunchy) will become soft and chewy if they last long enough.

How does food know which way it's supposed to go when it's "going bad"?

And if some things are going to end up hard and crunchy (and others soft and chewy), why can't it just be the stuff that started out that way?!

Doesn't my food know a single girl can't go through that many carbs in one week?! I blame the packaging industry...somehow I'm SURE it's their fault. They give me too much in one go.

I want half-sized loaves of bread so I don't have to only ever use the "frozen toast" setting on my toaster...and so I can leave my bread in the pantry and have nice chewy sandwiches like God intended.

See...this is what happens when I think too much before finishing my first travel mug of Lola Savannah Texas Pecan.

enduring ike

Moving back to Houston seemed like a good idea at the time. And then there was Ike. "Hey...glad you're back...have a hurricane!" Some welcome home!

Actually, Ike's biggest impact to me so far has been a lot of inconveniences.

Some people have been without power for a couple of days now. I haven't.

Some people have trees in their roof. I don't.

Some people don't even have a roof (or a house) anymore. I do.

And on, and on...

So, when I'm sitting here in my air conditioning watching the Astros play the Cubbies in Milwaukee (weird!), I really have nothing to complain about. And I'm not. Not on the outside.

In fact, I have wept for people I've seen on the news that have lost everything. And I'm praying for the people around Houston who are growing weary of the heat (without a/c at home) and on, and on...

But on the inside I still have little frustrations about not being able to move into my new apartment this weekend to start settling in properly. Or shop for stuff for my new place. Or start to reconnect with friends. And on and on...

How ugly does pride and selfishness have to get before you do everything it takes to rid yourself of it?

desert life

Here in the desert, at what I've started calling "adult camp" (I can't bear to call it a resort for some reason, and it feels like more than that anyway), when I'm not lounging by the pool, wandering around in a robe, or getting a spa treatment...I've been doing some other things I keep wanting to do but never doing.

Today I spent some time with horses, and will be heading out on a trail ride tomorrow.

I have also taken a couple of very abbreviated photography 101 type classes. My vocabulary now includes the words (and a meager understanding) of such things as ISO setting, aperture, and f-stop. Baby steps...

These are the two best images of the 150ish shots I took. God bless the man who invented digital cameras!


I got this blurry shot during a thunderstorm-laden sunset walk. Apparently it's hard to capture lightening...and I only did it with a blurry shot, but still am happy with the photo.




On a stroll around the resort...this was my attempt at stop-action and short depth of field. Meh...better than what I'd have been able to do before, but still nowhere near fabulous.



Despite the mediocre quality, I had a BLAST.

I think I might have convinced myself that it's worth the first level of investment for a digital SLR. I don't know that I really want to carry one around with me for tourism, but the idea of grabbing my camera and going out to shoot some images for relaxation and a little more creativity in my life is REALLY appealing.

vacation: an under-rated activity

I miss London, but I'm sufficiently distracted for now!

Maybe it's because I don't do it enough...but totally switching off and enjoying more than just a long weekend away is SUCH a refreshing break. I'm not quite halfway through my holiday, and I'm already settled in nicely.

It's going to be really hard to get back to real work again.

last day at the office

wow. that was hard.

the movers

They came...they packed...they loaded up their truck with all my stuff. It took less than 2 hours.

Now it's really official: I *have* to leave...all my stuff is gone!

Tomorrow the cleaners are coming...you're pretty much required to hire professional cleaners before check-out with your landlord...and for what I'm paying them, I'd hope that not even a CSI could find any traces of me or my dirt in this place when they're done!

more lasts and sorting mania

Today was my last:

• full day in the office
• work-out with Jacky (my e-ville trainer)
• night to prepare and eat dinner in my own flat

It's finally all starting to feel real!

Sadly, I didn't get started on all the sorting I need to do tonight quite as early as I'd hoped.

See, I almost forgot to pack up my office (yeah, it's all going away tomorrow as well), so I didn't leave the office until 8:30 (after the aforementioned session with my e-ville trainer).

The movers are coming at 9:00am.

After the commute home and a little dinner, I started sorting out my junk at 9:30pm...less than 12 hours before the movers come to take away everything I own in this country.

However, thanks to a few key executive decisions, I finished all sorting needed tonight by 11:57pm.

I rock.

no surprises here

I've left most of the hard work of packing until the last minute. This will come as no surprise to those who know me well.

The sad part is that I actually don't have to do much packing. For one thing, the movers won't let me pack...because if they don't do it, they won't insure my shipment. No complaints here!

So really all I have to do is SORT. One pile for the movers, one pile for my suitcases, and one pile for the charity shop down the street.

Why is this so hard? Well...a few things conspire against me.

1. I'm very definitely a get-lost-in-the-details sort about this kind of thing. When I clean my flat, I start in one room and make a little progress, but when I pick up the watch I left on the sofa and take it to my bedroom where it belongs, I end up doing some cleaning in there...and eventually I somehow end up getting lost in the gratifying work of cleaning the grout between bathroom tiles with an old toothbrush. And so it goes.
   
   
2. I'm a perfectionist. See note above regarding toothbrushes and bathroom grout. There are countless hours of my life I've dedicated in similar attention to the minutiae that I'll never get back.
   
   
3. I'm the queen of procrastination. If it were an Olympic sport, I'd have multiple gold medals.

So, knowing myself as well as I do...I figure waiting until the last minute may still demonstrate an awful tendency to procrastinate, but at least I won't have spent my last two or three weeks in England thinking about things like whether or not I'm ever going to wear that pink sweater again.

I have enjoyed my last few weeks in the Big Smoke, and I'm confident I'll have PLENTY of down time Stateside to sort out my world.

But I am starting to think I've left it all just a bit TOO late now...!