Adventures in text messaging.

Dad just got a new cell phone, Mom sends him text messages everyday. She sent him one today, and I overheard them talking about it...

Dad: "What's this 'I less than 3' ?"
Mom: "Joe, that's a heart."

<3<3<3

They'll be married for 21 years tomorrow folks

"Utah, my dream state...." ---gracie funk

Can't sleep...trying, but really can't. Thought maybe you'd like to see some photo's by one amazing Kathlene Smith (one is by drew).
We spent a few hours in Nash Vegas last week Thursday. The only thing that would have made my time there more fun would've been seeing Elena...or as I affectionately like to call her..."E" the gangster


Eden doing double cup duty. Such a stinking cutie.


Tweak and I, at Satco. Best darn gaucamole I've tasted in a long time.

Then we headed out toward rainy Hilton Head, SC...where in between shows we cuddled in the sheets.Gracie Funk is one of the most fascinating kids I've ever met...part of me wants to be like her, part of me just wants to enjoy watching her and listening to her talk. I beg you please, to direct your attention to the quote above, for a better understanding of what I mean by that exactly.

::::::Disclaimer: the author of this weblog entry wasn't thinking outside of her personal experiences while writing the words below. Nor did she consider the fact that your (the reader's) experiences may have been different then her own.::::::

I have to remind myself of the following daily.

You don't need a myspace.
You don't even like myspace.
You don't WANT a myspace.
You don't need to prove your image to anyone. Jesus likes you the way you are. No one else is really as cool as they look on myspace...not even the bands. Myspace encourages stalkers to be creepy. Someday bands will be suing myspace for stealing their music, myspace will take it all, put on a compilation disc and sell it as their own. They'll make more money then all the indie artists ever will, and they can because no one ever read the small print before giving them ownership to do so. You shouldn't be a part of that. You don't need a credit card, they're creepy. You don't need a boyfriend. Breathe breathe. Don't ever quit mime, or else you'll end up on MTV dating shows like Joe Spooner. Your friends are still your friends without myspace. You'll be famous someday for your thinking, wit and incredible miming skills.

I just forget sometimes, that's all

The Taste of Fortunes with Coke.

I hold in my heart, a strange reverence for fortunes in those, folded, chinese cookie things. Not in a spiritual sense, well not beyond the sensical thought that God speaks every day, turning ordinary, even insignificant experiences into spiritual opportunities. This has occured several times for me, through the cracking of fortune cookies, so I hold a little special place for them in the part of my mind that gathers applicable bits of information, regarding character and all that.

This morning, and yesterday morning for that matter...I woke up with a heaviness, that not only made jumping off the edge of my loft bed extremely difficult, but put me in a weird unsociable funk to boot. So focus on the word 'unsociable' for a minute; I also was feeling sorry for myself, lonely, like I have no friends, which is a load of you know what...but a real feeling none the less, mostly, I think I interpreted this as proof that I am missing a lot of my friends, more than me just not having any. Because, like I said, that's not true. I also know that I get like this after traveling for awhile and then having to return home. I love my family, I just have a little wild thing in me that likes to roam around...a thing that I've been assuringly told is okay to have...especially upon entering a new stage of independence, called adulthood...er whatever. So I'm unsociable, and feeling lonely, and like a jerk for wanting to roam a world outside of home. Wouldn't be so bad if I weren't a girl whose being thrives on the essence of emotion...my thoughts are thrown off kilter by it, and I read that sometimes people with my personality type can be affected physically, in their health by emotion...or lack of affirmation. Pretty crazy stuff.

I'm thinking about all this today, after I got a burst of energy to go out and run important errands...my head started to ache, and so I bought a soda. Thinking the sugar would help (it did), and ate Drew's left over fortune cookie from last weekend, when I took him to the Pho 16 restaraunt. The little slip of paper stayed in my hand for the rest of my driving time, as I considered the red letters...

"Stop searching forever. Happiness is just next to you."

Perhaps the offsetting of my "delicate internal balance", is due to lacking enough self control to tell myself or even listen to others tell me to shut up and enjoy the scenery. As I write this...I think I've been taught it before, and even maybe have said it here before. Sheesh...how embarrassing. This may just be one of those recurring themes in my life, and I'm getting better, but have to revisit the issue on each advanced level. Maybe it's more of a theme and variation thing.

Boundaries of friendly-ness

Written by Johanna at 13 years of age.
-------------
Conversations with eye contact are okay.
If tables turn to inappropriate topics, don't be afraid to show your objections, be modest. Leave the room if necessary.

Hugging & Touching - I tend to not want to go there...
If you're attracted to the person, then I'd say not at all. Um...don't make it a habit, but trust the Holy Spirit to discern the appropriate situations.
(family members, close friends?)

Be real, don't put on a show. If you don't have anything to say, ask God for help. Don't be silly because you don't want to face a situation, you could be missing out on God's voice.
Don't be afraid to ask questions, don't feel responsible for the whole conversation, let God conduct.
--------------

Meh...seven years later, not much has changed.

Cars and a Closet.

I arrived home yesterday after spending pert near a month with some lovely people that i...love. Mom and I went to Trader Joe's on the way home, and I bought two packages of the best snack ever in the world. Baked snap peas; buy them, eat them, they taste like my mom's chicken pot pie.
It felt good to get home, the debris that had been in my bedroom before I left, was removed. Also my own messes that I left had been picked up and placed neatly in my CLOSET. Yes, my poppa made me a closet for my room. I haven't had one since we moved into this home 7 years ago. I peed just a little when I found out what he'd done for me. Thank you poppa thank you.

Niah got home a little bit later from work, I hugged him, heard him talk about his last three weeks. Then lectured him, when he asked me about how many times mom used his phone that day...I told him he was acting spoiled, that he shouldn't be counting the phone minutes our mother used on his phone, when our parents just gave him a car...that I had to pay for my car that got smashed, and the whole family depended on for awhile. He glared at me and I backed off, I had just gotten home after all.

We all sat around then; Momma, Saiah, Niah and I, waiting for poppa to get home from his first day at his new job. Mom got a phone call, and said she had to go pick him up someplace...so I finished making the cilantro and lentil stew, while she did that. When they got home dad asked me to check the van's glove box for the Linford Detweiler tickets he bought...there was some confusion as to what night the show was on. I walked outside, let the bitter wind take my breath away as my eyes caught a glimpse of this baby.





I yelled in the door, asking my dad what this was all about...that's really how I asked. He said: "well, um oh...just check that glove box." I knew at this point that the car was mine. I opened the door, slid my butt across leather, and dad handed me the keys. The car fired right up, no pumping the gas pedal, no tricks, just easy continuous purring. Then what entered my ears through the bose speakers? Over The Rhine...beautiful Over The Rhine, no muffled tape decks, just quality sound. I started asking questions at this point..."It's and Infinti '93, the poor man's version of a Lexus, Johanna, this truly deserves the title classy, that's leather you're sitting on; did you see the sun roof?" All I found out about the price was that it was a gift to me, and I wasn't to worry about anything else...except that a young good looking christian guy had been involved. Oh of course they would say that :)

Anyway...my car was smashed, the good ole' classy rests her creaking body in Detroit, and I have a new beautiful, nicer than anything I've ever had, car...that cost me none of the eight hundred dollars that I got from the guy who ran into my other car...yeah...you can do the calculating. I'm gonna drive my car.

Well...here I am. Writing...I've finished the popsicle and am chewing on the stick, tastes like artificial cherry and cheap wood.

I could sum up the week in complaints of the numerous early morning rises, after spending the whole day before on my feet and around new people. I'm going to just take a guess though, and say that it wouldn't interest you, and that is...after all, what I'm all about here, keeping you interested in me, my life, and our relationship.

Remember how last summer I was super nervous about performing in OTB's production called Birthright? Then it was held at the Indianapolis convention center. Well this past Friday we did it again in Olathe, KS. I had several relapses in faith, and confidence...luckily though this had no affect on the production, or God's most wonderful spirit moving the audience and performers alike to tears. It was quite lovely to be involved again, my friends make me proud, and I find myself continually being encouraged toward outbursts of love.

I served communion for the first time ever. I found the experience quite invigorating. My instructions were to hold my plate filled with yummy Hawiian bread, and to say this line to each participant: "Christ's body broken for you." I was even told that I should try to read names off badges to make the experience more personal. With these tidbits running about my already overly stimulated mind...I tried my best to serve each person with honest looks in the eye, even when I messed up the word order in my short speech, as people flowed steadily through my lane. I think I started slurring when I thought two or three of the people had already been through my line once...it was of course my imagination...but you know...I don't know. I regained my composure eventually, deciding that a caring look in the eyes would speak more than a practiced line ever would. I of all people, should have thought of that sooner, what with being the mime performer and all. I waited until I was sure my words wouldn't sound forced, to speak again...when I did a young and very attractive man walked up to me, with a strut that made his head wag slightly. He smirked as I met his eyes with the same pure warmth I had greeted everyone else before him. He stopped as I said my words, and when I was done, he winked at me, smirk growing wide into a smile.

I hate boys. They desecrate all that I find righteous and holy.

The tip of this stick has slivered.

Fading

This blanket I lay wrapped in smells like you.
Its scent mingles with that of the intense cold,
stinging my nostrils with chills of realization.

I had once before named your child in my heart.

The future smiled at me through your words
and glimmered in my eyes.
While only the stars flash tonight
I find myself alone with the memories.

Laying, with my back across the frozen dirt
I clutch the blanket tighter
and press my nose into the fabric.
Warming my breath,
calming my heart,
viewing the slivered moon.

I pray for the smell to fade as I inhale deeply.
This is where I’ll stay until my own scent embeds itself once more
and I forget entirely
what reminds me of you.