So, to cap off my year, guess who has a lovely case of mono?

Wanderlus

Wanderlust

I almost didn't get out of my car yesterday. My drive to work is bar none the best part of my day. The mountains are as green as I imagine the highland hills of Scotland to be, without ever having seen an actual picture. Kris burned Death Cab for Cutie, and one track has lyrics about driving down a country road with the windows down smelling the scent of the evergreens through the open window. It fits. I play it four times in a row. Out my window I can see the hilltop above the Naches. I want to forget work and climb to the top, lay down in the grass up to my neck and watch the clouds pass by. The sun beats down for the first time after three days of rain. If I weren't driving I'd be able to smell earth and wildflowers.

At work I listen to the acoustic coffeehouse station. There are some obvious singers; Rufus Wainright, Dido, Norah Jones. Someone called the Recliners sings a terrible ballad version of I Wanna Be Sedated. I make a list of songwriters and bands to try to find.

An SUV drives up and parks. A matched set of black labs stick their heads out the window and sniff in parallel. I wonder what they sense on the air. I want to be out there.

At every hint of the sun I run out from behind my cage and go to my window. From the bar all I can see is the rock face above the highway. I hang onto the windowframe and lean in until my nose almost touches the glass and I can see to the top of the cliff and catch a glimpse of sky. Bits of fluff drift down the highway from right to left. Funny. The clouds go left to right. What currents are the fluff balls catching?

My itchy wanderlust has taken over again. I knew I shouldn't have read A Year in the World immediately after Tales of a Female Nomad.

I must go.

Winnies and Speaches

Winnie Awards and Acceptance Speeches

Saturday night were the Warehouse Theater Winnie Awards (their version of the Oscars). Guess who won a Best Actress in a Lead Role for her portrayal of Catherine in Proof?

Contemplation of Felony

Contemplation of Felony

Have you ever had one of those moments when you look down at the register drawer and think, I could do so much with that money. And for half a second you're serious.

I've never had an opinion on gambling. It's always seemed like nobody's business but their own, and if they want to throw their money out the window with both hands, the better for them. But as I'm struggling to pay bills after two months unemployment, am behind on my RDRP (rapid debt repayment plan - for those non Mary Hunt-ers), and am just now able to buy food without counting change, I get ill watching a thousand dollars get blown. If they want to throw it away, give it to me. I'll do something productive with it.

Like pay off the $250 worth of car repairs that were the result of going in for an oil change.

Whacked about with Romans 12

Whacked on the forehead with Romans 12

It's been an ongoing joke since my tour days. For some reason Romans 12 crops up in the oddest situations. For a while on tour we had a sermon on Romans 12 for weeks on end, different churches, different states even. At that point it could be argued that Romans 12 was the tour chapter, and not mine personally.

I came back to Yakima and attended First Pres for the first time in years. Not long after, a Romans 12 reference. Kris and I went church hopping. Romans 12. I was thinking about joining a Bible Study that I wasn't sure if I wanted to, "alright guys, turn to Romans 12." It was actually Romans 13 that day, ye olde governing authority bit, but the fact that he would misquote the first day I was there was suspect.

This morning I dragged myself out of bed for Imago Dei, my favorite church in Portland. I almost didn't make it into town this weekend. I've been sick since thursday, but it was Tasha's birthday. I love Imago Dei. It's the most eclectic church. The songs are mostly old hymn lyrics to new settings, with any accompaniment of instruments that volunteer that sunday. Today it was guitar, oboe, violin, and jimbae. The communion altars are along the front of the gym auditorium (when I first went there they met in an old Catholic church) with iconography behind the bread baskets and wine goblets. There's very little ceremony. At communion you go when you feel you've prayed or sung or confessed enough, though for "due process" you leave whatever row you're in to join the lines snaking their way down the isles. They have various organic home groups, some children's programs, and a theology program designed for lay people, taught by the theological members of the congregation. Very cool. I digress. Today the pastor stood up in front of the congregation, prayed, and told us to open our Bibles to Romans 12. I burst out laughing, and then, being sick, started choking. Made quite a spectacle. People around me looking for the girl having seisures. The girl next to me wanted to know what was funny. And Tasha laughed too, because she's been there most of the time.

If I ever get a tattoo, it'll be Romans 12 backwards on my forehead.

Artificial Engagement

Artificial Engagement

I had to ask Kris to ask me to marry him today. Because I've been forced to move my solitaire from my right hand to my left in an effort to stave off advances.

Why do men think the way to get women is to tell them that they're hot?

Yesterday it was a dripping wet biker. He and his two buddies came in to dry off by our fire. As I took their order, he told me to come closer and he'll tell me what he wants. He wanted to know what I did when I wasn't working, and then what I did when I was sleeping. He wouldn't take the drinks I tried to hand him (they weren't sitting at a table) instead making nursing faces indicated that I should stand there and feed him. I got off work and took a shower.

Today it was a rather intoxicated Texan camper. He spent an hour talking about me, loudly, to the bartender and his fellow campers. Mmmmmhmmmmm. She sure is one FINE looking woman. Yep. I'm wearing the wrong suit today but I can get my sexy on. It's a good thing I'm single. Yep, I'm single, you're single (the ring switched hands at that point with my back turned). I'd like to call on ye-ew. What time d'you get off? Yessir, she is one FINE looking lady. You're one lucky bartender, get to look at that all day. MMHHHmmm. You off work yet so I can take you camping?.......

After eight hours of that, it's no wonder that no man can get my attention with a come-on. Here's a tip. Talk to me like a human and I'm way more likely to go out with you.

Stopsigns and CS Lewis

Stop signs and CS Lewis

The other day, I was in the car on the way to take Johanna to Bible Study. She mentioned that at her college was one of world's expert Lewis scholars. I ran a stop sign.

You know you're a 509-er when

Ok guys, I'm not normally a big fan of myspace bulletins, but this one is for all my former and current Yakima friends.

YOU KNOW YOU'RE FROM THE "509" WHEN......


You've never met a celebrity.

Your idea of a traffic jam is ten cars waiting to pass a tractor
on the highway.

"Vacation" means going to Seattle or Portland, or Spokane.

You measure distance in minutes.

You say "pop" instead of soda or soft drink.

You know several people who have hit a deer or a cow.

Your school classes were rarley cancelled because of cold.

You've ridden the school bus for an hour each way.

You've ever had to switch from "heat" to "A/C" in the same day.

You think ethanol makes your truck "run a lot better".


Stores don't have "bags"; they have "sacks".

You see a car running in the parking lot at the store with no one in it no
matter what time of the day or year it is.

You end your sentences with an unnecessary preposition. (i.e. "Where's mycoat at?" or "If you go to town I wanna go with.")

You know how to pronounce Wenatchee, Yakima, and Spokane.

You know Walla Walla, Washington is a REAL town, not just cartoon!

All the festivals are named after a fruit, vegetable, grain, or animal.

You install security lights on your house and garage and leave both unlocked.

You know what "cow tipping" and snipe hunting" is.

You only own 3 spices: salt, pepper, and ketchup.

You design your kid's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit.

Driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow.

You know how to put on snow chains.

You think that opening day of deer season is a national holiday.

You find 20 degrees F "a little chilly". And stop wearing a coat once the weather hits 40.

You know all 4 seasons: Almost Winter, Winter, Still Winter, and Construction.

You know the City of Pullman is named after a railroad sleeping car.

You traveled through hours of wheat fields or farms to get to the next city.

You know the names of the Tri-Cities.

You actually know how to drive in the snow.

You have to drive clear across town just to get to the next bar.

You know all about the inmates breaking out of the prison- and are proud it happened so close to you.

You've driven 120 mph down Wenas Rd.

You can walk into a store, any store, and recognize most of the people there.

You were born here, grew up here, graduated from here, went to college here, and transfered to Central only to wind up.. back here.

There's more than 2 generations of your family living in this god-forsaken valley.

You know where there's a sign that reads "Yakima- the Palm Springs of Washington".

You understand why they call this place "Crackima" or "Yaki-Vegas".

You've ever looked at those damn hills and thought "don't those look like butt cheeks?"

You've gone four-bying up in the hills.

You won't drive "all the way across town" because it's too far.

You can't move to the lower valley because it's so far away no one would ever visit.

In Memorium, Stacey Frederick

The absence of Friends

The Calzones are playing a gig this saturday. A benefit for the American Cancer Society as I understand it. At the Sports Center. We'll be opening with three other bands. I'm getting excited, especially after practice today.

I'm especially glad this is an ACS thing, because my friend Stacey passed away at 3am this morning of ovarian cancer. We will miss her a lot. Her Celebration of Life service will be soon. I wish I could go, but I'm glad I got to see her a few weeks ago.

Stacey was very brave. She was diagnosed three years ago while in an opera program on the East Coast. She flew back for surgery, and had a very painful recovery. Her mother passed away of the same disease only months after Stace's diagnosis. She went through several rounds of chemo, many painful surgeries, and through it all remained upbeat and cheerful, determined to live a normal life. A few weeks ago she performed in a Requiem. A week ago she went into surgery to improve her breathing (she had retained a lot of water and was having difficulties). I've heard that the doctor told her then that it would be anywhere from two days to two weeks. Thankfully, because of the surgery, she didn't have as difficult an end as she had to watch her mother endure. Her death was peaceful. Her family sent us all an email saying that she passed away peacefully, listening to classical music, while her family recited all the names of people who loved her.

And I have other updates, but somehow my little piddling details don't seem so important right now.

A "whole nother" world

Sorry about the extended absences. Between not having internet at home, or a computer that works, and (finally) working five days a week, getting to a computer is a challenge. How I think I'm going to take online classes is a mystery. But I'll worry about that as it comes up.

On that note, I got formally accepted into that Masters of Theology program. As soon as I can come up with $500 (and I'm still filling out scholarship apps) I can take my first class.

Working in the mountains is a trip. It's a whole different breed of humans up there. They have a deep distrust of law inforcement from "The City" (ie Yakima). There's been the usual spring rash of break ins at the summer homes. The locals have their firearms ready, and woe to the unwitting thief who steps across an occupied threshold. And, "my wife shoots better'n I do." We're only a few weeks away from the influx of the "damn 206-ers." And the snow flurries have mostly stopped in the mornings. Everyone is out rock hunting, panning for gold, looking for mushrooms and fallen antlers, and atving the empty campgrounds. I hear there are some abandoned mines that are going to be getting some company by mineral hunters. And now that the snow has melted below the second story, the women are less stir crazy because they can see out their windows.

Like I said, a "whole nother" world.