Moderation, what?

Busy this, busy that. Consistency in blogging, these days, is difficult. I guess the reasons are good---my job is keeping me challenged, my extracurriculars and social life haven't slowed, and I'm still actively pursuing personal goals. While there's so much room for improvement, I like the way my life looks right now. It's been an eventful couple of weeks, and while each of these topics deserve their own blog, it's more fun to live it all at once. Who needs moderation?

Two-Girl Pep Rally

A week ago Saturday, Amanda, Lana and I threw Rhonda and Joe a wedding shower with 25 of their closest friends. While the presentation was flawless, the behind-the-scenes action was a bit dramatic. Let's just say that we had more wine (and gum) than we did lasagna. Somehow though, everyone got their face fed, even the hand-picked few we had to secretly ask to abstain, for fear of running out of food. It was like Jesus feeding the 5000, except instead of fishes and loaves, it was pasta and garlic bread.

In fact, the shower was so successful that Lana and I couldn't shut up about it on the way home. We were singing our praises, when Lana added a new entry to her "Book of Tao": "We just gave ourselves a two-girl pep rally!"

The Hope Diamond of the Bible

Wednesday was my first major author signing at L-Way with Max Lucado and his new book "3:16." Despite a few road bumps, including his delayed plane making him a half-an-hour late, the signing went exceptionally well. I was very pleased, especially since an event like this on home-turf is highly visible to those that matter in Christian publishing.

I'll be honest and say that I've never been a huge Lucado fan. The only book I've read of his is "Cure for the Common Life," and I thought it was watered down and generic. It wasn't a good first impression, but I hear that books of his like "Six Hours One Friday," justify his contribution to the world of Christian commentary. But the man was so nice that I bought his new book and decided to give him a second chance.

Rise Up

After al fresco dining at Christopher's Pizza, Siebe and I claimed our stellar seats at the Rock-n-Roll House of Worship for Ben Harper. It was a mellow evening, and definitely different than the last Ben Harper show I saw. Ben's perfomance was emotional and passionate. At one point, he sang "Where Could I Go" from his Blind Boys of Alabama album, "There Will Be a Light," silencing the audience completely for the bridge and belting out a beautiful acapella vocal. It was so emotionally electric that I teared up. It was his worship song:

Oh - And give it to the Lord

Give it to the Lord
Cause nothing else could save a sinner
Sinner like me

After the show, Siebe and I traipsed back to my car, parked in front of the seedy entrance to Printer's Alley. I got in and saw a ticket on my windshield---I'd parked in a handicapped spot by accident. Neither of us saw the sign with the wheelchair, but we did see the 6 a.m. to 6 p.m sign and thought we were fine. Spotting a biker cop, I got out of the car and raced up the street, waving the ticket in hand. I asked him if he wrote me a ticket, and unfortunately it wasn't him. He said I could go to court and plead "not guilty." I said, "well I'm guilty--I did it--that's my car. But it was an honest mistake." Needless to say, I think my dad talked me into sucking it up and paying the dadgum $51 ticket rather than going to court on principle. Do you realize that it's only $10 to park in an expired meter? Seriously.

In Celebration

The pastor of my childhood church, Brother Glenn Weekley, passed away last Monday from a battle with cancer and health complications. He became my pastor when I was seven years old, and was a great influence in my life. This past Sunday was his memorial service at church and it was so inspiring to see how many people cared about and loved this man. Brother Glenn was one of those people that could boldly proclaim truth, but you never felt like he was judging you.

His son-in-law and my former youth pastor, Brady Cooper, spoke about him, saying these words: "Brother Glenn loved, he didn't lead. He focused on encouragement, not equipping." I learned so much from this man, and am still learning from him. I wrote down those words in the service on Sunday morning, and I want to try something new with my own leadership style in Bible Study. My personality appreciates the hard truth, even if its difficult to hear. I know that's not everyone's style, and so often I forget that people need to be ministered to differently than I. So, I'm making a change, an effort to grow myself in this area.

Hematoma

I want to warn you that you may want to stop reading now. Or, you can keep reading, but your eyes may fry out of your skull if you scroll down to the picture.

Tonight, I went over to Lana's apartment for Bible Study. I arrived a bit early, and I'm telling her about my burn blister on my fingertip, resulting from a not-so-accidental encounter with a pool of hot glue, mocking me with gooey fun. Anyway, I'm lamenting and Lana suddenly stands up, turns her back to me, and says, "oh ya, well look at this:"

Ya. My mouth fell open too and the screams of horror and laughter exploded from my lungs. Except that I saw a full moon. You're getting an edited version, with the shorts as a buffer. Evidently, Laney took a little spill down her concrete steps, and after a bounce or two, she gained this abomination, which she lovingly refers to as "her condition, hematoma." And by the way, Lana requested that I post her butt picture on my blog...

Gross.

On what planet is it acceptable for a person to clip their fingernails in public? A few minutes ago, I heard the most grating sound in the entire world---one of my co-workers was engaging in a little personal grooming a la manicure. I about vomited all over the fax machine. Think about it---germy DNA flying all over the office---it makes my stomach turn. It's not the time or the place, people.

And while we're on the subject... I noticed another one of my co-workers exit the restroom recently without washing her hands. Double-vomit. Who does that? That's practically the first thing mothers teach their children---wash your hands after you use the restroom.

I have to heavily resist the urge to stop people and ask them what's up when I see them engaging in gross behavior. In fact, I did shout at a woman to "wash your hands!" in the restroom at Wrigley Field when she exited without sudsing up.

That is all...until I walk by someone's cube and they're picking their nose or something...

She Pick'em

Is it wrong to feel good when you've beat the boys at their own game? If no, is it wrong to plan to walk in on Tuesday morning and sashay my Yahoo! College Football Pick'em winning score all over the office? Ahhh, who cares---I'm going to do it anyway.

Maybe it's premature as it's only week one, but I am in the number one spot in the league and it feels oh-so-good---especially since I talked so much smack on Friday. You look at the roster of teams and Queen MAB is sitting proud and pretty above identifiers that include a shot of testosterone and sweat.

I can't help it that I'm slightly competitive. It reminds me of my senior year of high school, when myself and three other gals were a part of a fantasy pro baseball league in our sports marketing class. We beat out six other teams of overly-confident teenage boys, and it felt just as good then as it does now.

Enough of my braggity ways... Until Tuesday of course!