monte calvario

I'm home, and wishing I weren't. I left my heart down there in a little town called El Barro.

Not long ago Isaac shared part of a sonnet by Gerard Manley Hopkins that reads,

"For Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men's faces."

I saw Christ in the face of every man, woman, and child. I saw the adventure and beauty of God being lived out in friends—both new and old; American and Mexican—in ways I never imagined or deemed noteworthy.

And it made me fall in love with God in a way that I hope I never recover from.

run for the border

I'm off.

A little James Taylor for the road...

(Oh, and please, PLEASE. No one steal my toilet.)

that sounds fishy

Jon emailed me and asked in what way he could pray for me while I'm in Mexico. I wrote back a bunch of real prayer requests, you know, stuff about seeing God's grace and beauty and allowing my eyes to see things through a new perspective, etc. But then I added, "I would love to arrive safely back in KC without a trace of food poisoning or a parasite or anything like that. Plus I have a very American stomach (you know I love the burgers and fries) and am not a huge fan of the Mexican cuisine. I don't wanna wind up like Isaac in Thailand eating Pringles covered with ants or a whole package or Oreos for dinner."

Isaac offered himself to Thailand for ten days and the thing I remember the most from his retelling is this: All the food was made with fish paste and two days into his trip his stomach was just done with Thai food. When he arrived in Los Angeles he purchased a turkey sandwich, a bottle of water, and a Cinnabon and sat down on the curb to eat it while humming "America The Beautiful."

Okay, I told you that story so I can tell you this one. As I was emailing Jon and remembering Isaac's terrible run-in with the fish paste omelette, I started to giggle because my mind did that great non-sequitur thing that it does and I remembered a story that I hadn't shared from the 4th of July. Here goes.

As Julia and I were driving home from Malden (Nakedn), we stopped at her parents' house for a scrumptious Fourth of July Dinner. Steak, fries, salad, fresh home-grown tomatoes. Mmm! Just prior to sitting down to eat, Julia and her dad went out and picked the tomatoes off the vine. They were the best I'd had all summer. So I said, "Bill, these are the best tomatoes I've had in as long as I can remember. They're perfect."

He smiled and said, "Uh huh. They're grown with ground-up fish heads."

Julia said, "Well, there we go. At least now the dog won't have to throw up in the middle of dinner this time."

well said

Dave, to Caley and me while we're all on speaker phone together, "You guys sound alike, you know. One of you should talk to me through a kazoo."

well, since cari won't post about it

Tuesday night Cari, Jason, and I walked into Chili's together. Cari and I sat down, and Jason said he needed to visit the restroom. As he walked off, Cari said, "Oh, I should do that too." She held both her hands up in front of her, looked at me, then looked at them, and said, "I need to wash my hair."

Immediately she looked at me with the same expression she had just after she'd told me that Tim got bitten by bees.

there goes my subconscious again

This morning after my first alarm went off but before the second one went off, I had a dream that someone stole my toilet. Like, I went into the bathroom to throw a piece of paper away in the wastebasket, and it was gone, as was the toilet.

I turned to Rick (he and I were picking up popcorn and lollipops from the floor of my house) and said, "Do you know what happened to my toilet?"

Then, thankfully, I woke up.

who put that there?

The other night I was trying to get to bed and kept remembering little things that I needed to do before the morning, so I was milling about the house and getting antsy and sleepy all at the same time. Anyway, I had finally finished everything and turned off all the lights and got into bed. Then I realized that I had to pee. So I got up, went into the bathroom, turned the light on, and peed. After I washed my hands I turned the lights back off, to which it was completely pitch black and my eyes hadn't adjusted one bit. I left the bathroom and ran directly into the wall. Not just any wall, but a corner. And not just with my arm or some other resilient body part, but my FACE. Yes, I have no idea how I did it, but I ran into the corner in my hallway with my face. I had to put ice on it. So now my cheekbone is really sensitive to the touch. My only regret is that no one was there to see it because I was just laughing hysterically to myself while simultaneously saying to no one, "Ow."

alli

Oh my gosh, everyone. I think I have a new singer/songwriter in my "favorite" list. Alli Rogers completely rocked on Sunday night. Plus, she's so very cool. And nice. And funny. And her husband is equally charming and endearing. A couple friends met Alli and Kirk while leading worship in North Carolina, and invited them to Kansas City on their way from Nashville to Colorado. Wow are they fun. Alli did an unplugged dealio last night for us and I sat there mesmerized, smiling uncontrollably at some songs and getting chills during others. She's just amazingly talented. Oh, and she'll tell you that she's not funny on stage, but oh boy is she. So please, check her out, and buy a CD. I will go ahead and tell you she rocks, and you will love her CD. And if you're at all interested in Compassion International, it's an amazing organization that they hold very close to their hearts as well.

Honestly, I think I may like her more than I like Suzanne Vega. Wow.

my rock star friends

My friends, my community...they blew me away last night. At the end of our worship service, Isaac grabbed me by the hand and practically cattle-prodded me onto stage, then plopped a sombrero on my head. Yes, I'm going to Mexico at the end of this week for a mission trip, and they –bless their hearts– wanted to pray for me. It was so cool. Jon told everyone what I'd be doing, and Isaac invited anyone who wanted to lay hands on me for the prayer to come up and do so. (Caley and Cari both had their hands in my back pockets laying hands on my butt, nonetheless.) So, Isaac prayed in English, and Stefan prayed in Spanish, and it completely rocked my world. I felt really cherished, and really irreplaceable–and that is such a stretch for me. Friends, thanks for stretching me, and thanks for loving me. I love you all–to the moon...and back.

dream on

Tonight over pizza I was telling Alissa about a dream I had last night. See, I've never particularly been drawn to kids, never particularly wanted to have kids, never really had much to do with kids. Alissa is always telling me what a shame this is, because she thinks I'd make a really fun mom. I always just think she's crazy. But last night I had a dream that I actually had a two-year old little boy, and he was soooooooo cute. And I loved him immensely. I loved him more than I love Sam.

It was totally weird.

So anyway, I was telling Alissa about this dream, and I said, "Funny thing is, now I kinda want kids. Like, not now or anything, but if I get married someday, I think it'd be cool to have a kid or two." She got all smiley and giggly and happy and wiggled in her chair a bit and said, "Oh that'd be so cool! You should have kids, you'd be a great mom."

So later on tonight as I was EATING RAW COOKIE DOUGH OUT OF THE TUBE AND DRINKING MILK STRAIGHT FROM THE CARTON, I remembered Alissa's words and thought, "Yeah. I'd be a great mom."

today on jerry springer: i'm healthy? and happy?

I've been doing two people's jobs at work this week (John's on vacation) so I haven't really been posting much. Plus my brain has been simmering in a caffeine-withdrawal headache and if anything funny happens I promptly forget it. But as I was reading Everybody's Normal Till You Get To Know Them by John Ortberg tonight I liked this, so I think I'll share it.

Shalom: The webbing together of God, humans, and all creation in justice, fulfillment, and delight.

In a world where shalom prevailed, all marriages would be healthy and all children would be safe. Those who have too much would give to those who have too little... In offices and corporate boardrooms, executives would secretly scheme to help their colleagues succeed; they would compliment them behind their backs. Tabloids would be filled with accounts of courage and moral beauty. Talk shows would feature mothers and daughters who love each other deeply, wives who give birth to their husbands' children, and men who secretly enjoy dressing as men... There would still be lawyers, perhaps, but they would have really useful jobs like delivering pizza, which would be non-fat and low in cholesterol... At recess, every kid would get picked for a team... Our national sleep deficit would be paid off. Starbucks would still exist but would sell only decaf... No one would be lonely or afraid. People of different races would join hands; they would honor and be enriched by their differences and be united in their common humanity.

Pretty cool picture, eh? I think we're going about world peace in the completely wrong way. I support the Make Poverty History movement yet don't even know my next door neighbor's name. Perhaps in addition to focusing on the other side of the world I should focus on the other side of the six-foot privacy fence.

well said

Julia, about an hour after holding my cat Sam, "Oh. I found a cat hair in my boob."

ware oh ware are you tonight

This weekend Julia (keep in mind that her last name is Ware) and I did a lot of shopping for her new apartment. She needed a small pub table for her eat-in kitchen, which believe it or not is pretty difficult to find. We tried the usuals...Wal-Mart, Target, K-Mart, etc. But all they had were large dining room tables. Bollocks. So, we finally went out to Nebraska Furniture Mart.

Woah.

It was like going to Ikea. It was freaking HUGE. We drove up and seriously mistook ourselves for ending up in an amusement park. And, like it happens every time I'm in an amusement park, I lost my car. They need those big signs like they have at Disney World with Goofy and Pluto and Mickey on them. "Where'd we park?" "Oh, it was in the Goofy lot." "Ah, yes, I see it."

Anyway, we purchased her pub table, and they told us how to pick it up. There is this toll booth looking thing on the side of the building, you drive up and say into a microphone your order number. They ask you what color your car is (to which I said navy blue but Julia shouted from the passenger seat blurple thank you very much Jason Hamilton) and tell you which loading bay to drive up to. We drove up to Bay A and they said it'd be fifteen minutes. Since it was ninety-five degrees we sat there with the windows up and the air conditioner on. So, when a man approached my window after about five minutes and just stood there it startled me a bit and threw me off kilter. I rolled down the window and he said very loudly, "Ware?"

I pointed over my shoulder and said, "The back seat is fine."

He blinked at me.

"What? Oh. Ware. Yes, that's us."

well said

Jarrod, on eschatology: "The end of the world, man. I wish it'd hurry up. I'm gettin' sick of this place."

too early in the morning to make sense

Me, doing bills, to Julia: Hey, I had to order new checks.

Julia, surprised: Why? What happened?

Me: I ran out.

Julia: Oh. I thought you were gonna say someone stole something. I thought it was going to be a good story. But that's a good story too.

moo shu? kung pao chicken?

Yesterday Rob calls me and says, "Suzanne Vega's coming to town." And I freak out and am all, "Really?!?" Suzanne Vega (before her husband cheated on her and skewed all her lyrics to the man-hating side) was my favorite singer/songwriter of all time. I even met her in the Atlanta airport once, I said, "Excuse me. Are you Suzanne Vega or do you just look remarkably like her?" She was astonished that anyone knew her face and was super nice. We had a long conversation and she introduced me to her bassist, Mike. He was really nice too. She told me she'd left her jacket on the plane and it was her favorite so they were waiting to see if the flight crew could find it and bring it to her.

ANYWAY.

So, Rob says that Suzanne Vega is playing with Marc Cohn (he's the guy who did Walking In Memphis) at Liberty Hall in Lawrence. He says, "Have you ever been to a show there?" I say, "Yeah...a few years ago I saw...um...oh...it's that band with the two Asian chicks." He says, "With Sean Lennon playing bass?" And I say, "Yes! What's their name?" We can't remember.

We talk about how we haven't heard much from them lately. He mentions that after hearing Sean Lennon's solo album that it's probably good that we haven't heard from him lately. Clearly musical ability isn't always genetic. Even after all this, we still can't remember the name of the band.

Finally we hang up frustrated. This morning my phone rings, and it's Rob. I say hello and he says, "Cibo Matto." And I'm all, "OH MY GOSH YES THANK YOU SO MUCH THAT WAS DRIVING ME BATTY." And he says, "This morning it just popped into my head on the way to work. I kept trying to think of it yesterday and everything I came up with was a dish I could order at Kin Lin."

well said

"I’m boycotting that Tom Cruise. I almost boycotted John Travolta, but he’s cuter than Tom Cruise. Tom Cruise, he needs a tranquilizer." –Ann

i never smelled the chicken, but this HAD to be worse

Sean and I were eating lunch today at Crown Center...he with his gyro and I with my cheesesteak, sitting there minding our own business. Suddenly I got a whiff of the raunchiest thing that had ever wafted past my nostrils. As Sean and I held our breath trying to figure out what it was, I realized that it was coming from the lady who had just sat down at the little table next to us...and it was her food. OH DEAR GOD SHE WAS SHOVELING THAT FOUL-SMELLING MOUND INTO HER MOUTH. It was a potato with some sort of vegetable topping that smelled like it had come out of a trash can that had simmered in the sun for three days being nibbled at by something that would eventually become roadkill.

We had to leave. I mean, we literally had to pack up our food in our little styrofoam boxes and walk away. Far, far away. It was one of those smells that sticks in your brain and you just keep smelling it. Oh, it was complete torture. I said to Sean as we walked away, "Seriously. Poop smells better than that."

note to self: don't do this

Last night Cassie told me that she got us some new tupperware because she'd thrown away some of mine. I said, "Oh that's cool. What, was it all yucky and stuff?" Because I am the first one to throw tupperware away, no matter how nice it is, if it's all yucky and stuff. A dishwasher is a wonderful thing, but you still have to open it and sometimes it's just not worth the smell.

She grimaced and said, "Yeah. There was a whole chicken breast in it, and I left it in my car when I went to DC for five days. The heat popped it open."

I, laughing my head off, said, "So your whole car smells foul?"

Dejectedly, she said, "Yeah. I even had to apologize to the valet guy that brought me my car at the airport."

two months later, the craving is satisfied

We found them.

not incriminating, but funny

This weekend was Sali's 40th High School Reunion, so we had front-row-with-popcorn seats to a ton of shenanigans. Almost everyone was drunk, and everyone was hilarious. At one point Julia and I were talking with Stokes (who's a writer in New York now) about the small towns we grew up in. We were also laughing about the fact that Warren hadn't brought his wife to the reunion and Melanie knew that. Warren and Melanie have been married twice and divorced twice, and that's just with each other. Never mind their other marriages and divorces. Stokes said that a couple years ago Melanie said, "Stokes, you should write the story of my life." He said, "Okay. What'll we call it?" She thought for a moment then said, "How about, I've Done Everyone But You." He said it was sure to be a bestseller.

So, in the midst of this conversation, Stokes says, "This town, man. People go up to the Country Club, get all drunk, then get in a car and go off to Tunica together. And they're both married to other people, so they have to come crawling back into town two days later. Last time Melanie did that with some guy, his wife made him sleep in a trailer in their backyard for six months."

A couple hours later I said, "Julia, where's Tunica?"

"Mississippi."

"Oh, so it's not just like one town over or anything?"

"Nope. It's an hour past Memphis. Where all the casinos are."

Heh. This town, man...

say, did my cousin leave a pair of long brown farts over here?

Oh, my oh my. Malden was fantastic. And hilarious. But, as Sali says, "This is like Vegas. What happens here, stays here." So, without further ado, I'll just share a few pictures...the non-incriminating ones. They're mostly just of the garden. Oh well.

(And since Sali doesn't have internet, I might just end up sharing a story or two after all. *wink*)

Okay, well, click the photo for a slideshow. "Waterbooooyyyyy..."