Last night, R*, M* and I* headed over to the Patio to see Elf Power. The first act consisted of a girl with a guitar and her music was nice – nay, very enjoyable. Brando came on after Madeline (she’s not french, she’s from Athens, GA). I’ve seen Brando a few times. I can’t say that I am ever extremely impressed when I see them, but they’re a local band and the locals seem to enjoy them. Even though it may not sound like it, that is a compliment.
Elf Power came on at about 10:30. It was a fun show. I think I surprised J* by dancing (ok, not really dancing but standing in the same location but moving my head up and down to the beat of the music). K*, with his amazing charismatic magic, did get me swinging my hips a bit more than usual (which means, literally – just moving my hips – ok, and a few swirls when he, um, swirled me).
I found myself in a quandary at about 3 pm yesterday afternoon. I had already made plans to go see Elf Power at the beginning of the week. There were several of us meeting there. But while perusing the local “find out what’s hip here” newspaper, I saw that N Lannon was playing at Radio Radio at the same time as Elf Power. N Lannon, if you haven’t heard, is quite the lyricist and ranks right up there with M Ward and Denison in my “must sit and listen, ssshhh don’t talk” category.
So, I had to choose: Soulful, insightful acoustic music by myself or fun, poppy, can’t help but move my hips even if just a little music with friends.
In the end, I’m glad I chose my friends.

Inspired by S*, I am taking a closer look at my choices for the US House this year. Offhand, I like Julia because she’s ballsy (well, as ballsy as a woman can be). I like Andy because his avenue for fighting smokers in Indiana is to laugh at the smokers rather to open the door for the mafia of underground black markets to take over the industry (ok, I really like Andy because he makes me laugh by using arguments like the one mentioned above and for saying in the tv debate that he appreciates the people out there in “TVLand”).
I don’t like how predictably democratic Julia is on the issues. I don’t like that Andy talks to possible swing (democratic voters who are tired of the predictability of the incumbent) voters by recognizing that, as he says, “Black market trade has always been one of the very few means by which socially disadvantaged or merely unscrupulous folk can become powerful, rich and feared” but failing to recognize (at least vocally) that there is no better options for the socially disadvantaged (but not necessarily merely unscrupulous folk) to succeed in life.
Go here for transcripts from the debate.

I just got an email from a friend. This friend tells me some exciting news. My only reply to her is woot.

Can anyone else who reads this (other than CPH) , off the top of their head, tell me what that word means?

I didn’t think so.

In high school, I thrived on formal meetings where Jesus was the center of conversation. I went to sunday school every week. I went to a house bible study led by some of the adult leaders in our youth group. Nearly every Friday, a bunch of us would gather at a friends house for a bible study. In my senior year, I was the president of a Christian Club and every Tuesday we would meet for a bible study.
When I pulled into my college campus for the first time, I went straight to the Baptist Student Union. We had a weekly meeting at the BSU that consisted of a lot of music and a little of teaching. I led a traveling theatrics ministry team. A handful of friends would gather nearly every night for dinner in the BSU kitchen. We held dance parties (DeTour – I feel a call for explanation here – Our town was well known for its bars and Thursday nights were clubbing nights and every person who walked to the bars from campus had to walk past the BSU and so we had high hopes of being a detour from the crazed, sinful drunkeness – And, might I add, we were quite successful) in the gym on Thursday nights. On occasion, my friend T* would recruit many of us to go to area churches to lead mini-retreats. We had occasional bible studies and I led a few of them, but the majority of my time was spent hanging out and not digging in. (wow, that takes me back).
Fast forward to nearly a decade later. I cringe at the idea of going to a formal bible study and craft plans to show up to a small group an hour late so that I can skip the Jesus talk and arrive just in time for the food and singing. I’d rather follow someone out to the porch for a smoke then to sit and talk about God’s plan for me today.
And I can’t help but wonder, when and why did it change?

R* called last night. Someone at his going away party offered to take the ferret.

Talked to my mom last night and she asked if I read him the riot act about joining the army.

Because apparently my uncle did.

And understandably. I mean, what would you say if you had tragically lost your youngest son not more than two months ago and your eldest son comes and says (something to the effect of) “Dad, I want to be in the shit”.

R* and I went to a show on Saturday night (Sorry, K*). It was a tremendously fun show. Reminiscing while listening, I whispered in R*’s ear, telling her that after I had heard them the first time (early June), I emailed my friend B* (on the right) asking for M*’s (on the left) email address. I totally sounded like a groupie-wannabe, telling B* that M*’s music (his mac and a keyboard) reminded me of a band that I had just recently begun to love and that I wanted to pick M*’s brain for music that sounded like his and their music. Yeah, total groupie-wannabe.
But now, M* and I are friends…and not like the she likes my music, so i’ll be her friend kind of friends, but honest to goodness I can tell when you’re having a bad day and I’ll be there to cheer you up kind of friends. And that makes me smile.
The restaurant was filled with friends, which was fun and hopefully not annoying to the other patrons. The band only has 7 songs, so the set was actually repeated with an extended break in between. The last song played (the second time through) was, by far, the most fun. M* was a little nervous saying that he always screws up a part in the song, but the audience loved it so much that they begged the band to repeat the song so that they could dance.
You know the feeling, you’re in your car with your best friend and you keep playing Butterflies instead, over and over and over and over…..
J* was there and it was nice to sit and talk with him. There are times that I feel, while we are in the (literal) church, he avoids CPH and I. We’ve actually had conversations where we say (something to the effect of), “Did it feel like J* avoids us sometimes”.
I was talking to R* after the show and I told her how surprised I was that J* was talking open and freely with me and that it never feels like he wants to be a friend when we’re actually at the church. R* says that maybe he feels more free to be talkative and open when he’s not the pastor, which, although foreign to me, makes sense.
At the show, J* was totally dressed incognito (Seattle Grunge, if you will) and maybe, just maybe, I’m only able to be friends with Grunge J*. I think I’ll be okay with that.

When my cousin skipped town, he left behind a ferret.
I went and saw my uncle after we learned that J* had left and he greeted me with a question: Want another ferret? Not really, but what could I say. So, after I called CPH to confer, I told my uncle that if no one else claimed the ferret, I would take it home.
Turns out that R* felt some sort of brotherly responsibility and decided to take the ferret home with him. R* and I live in the same city, so i assured him that we were only a call away if he needed any ferret advice (boy, do we have ferret advice).
CPH tells me yesterday that R* called. He is heading off to the army and wants to give us the ferret. I tried to call him back today. The lady on the other line tells me the place is closed for the day and asks if I want to leave a message.
I’m just looking for R*, I tell her.
Oh, today was R*’s last day, she says, I doubt he’ll even check for messages.

I’m mad for two reasons.
One, R* is going away. He’s going to a place where J* once was and for some (most likely silly) reason that scares me.
Two, R* is not making it easy for me to find him. I’m your cousin, for God’s sake, just give me your home number.

Does anyone else remember the “Christian Community” being upset that Bill Clinton was throwing around scripture in his pre-election speeches?

Does anyone hear them being upset now?

On the way to B* and P*’s last night, CPH and I debated about what I had posted yesterday.
Yesterday I said that I do believe that if, while committing a crime, you harm a pregnant woman and the fetus is aborted, two victims should be recognized.
That, I still believe. But I also understand, I tell him, why the Democrats chose to vote against the bill saying that there are two victims – I understand that if they acknowledge that the fetus is living, it could lead to questions on the right of an abortion. I try to explain to him the whole idea of not thinking that a government has a right to dictate what a woman chooses to do.
So CPH asks me if I think social services should be abolished. He asks me if we should NOT stop mothers who are beating their kids. Of course not, I say. We should stop them.
So, he asks: We should stop them from hurting their kids, but we don’t have a obligation to stop them from killing their kids?
Um. good point?

From John in the Morning (talking about Minnie Driver’s new album):
(something to the effect of)
It’s not bad. It’s kinda like Sarah Mclachlan. So I probably won’t play it.

I ? John in the Morning.

In talking with a friend today, I have decided that I will thoughfully and intelligently weigh some major issues before I decide that our current choices as president can not bring me to the polls.
The first issue I have thoughtfully and intelligently weighed is as follows. Please feel free to join in and express your opinion.

Abortion

After listening to various clips from both candidates, it seems to boil down to:
Bush Moral Issues.
Kerry Government should not have a say. Women should have a choice.

How can you really disagree with someone who is saying that women should have a choice that anyone should have a choice?
I appreciate that Kerry says that he personally does not want anyone he knows to have an abortion.
I appreciate that Bush feels so morally strong about this issue that he feels that he needs to stop it on a macro level.

Lets compare this to Christianity. How do I feel about someone who feels the need to save everyone they meet? Even as a Christian, how do I react to someone who tells someone who clearly does not know Jesus that they need to know Jesus in order to live a full life? I have to consider my knee-jerk reaction when someone feels they are on a mission to evangelize Jesus to others.

If someone came and asked me about my faith, I would be honest with them. I would tell them of my belief in salvation by Jesus alone.

If someone came and asked me if I thought they should have an abortion, I would say no.

If someone came and asked me if they should wear the color blue if the color blue looks horribly wretched on them, I would say no.

And even if they dont ask, I may slip up and express my opinion. But in the end, no matter how bad it makes me cringe to see them wearing that wretched color, it is not really hurting me.

Or what about this one: A friend of mine who is closer to the age of 40 than she is to the age of 30 is dating a 17 year old. She and the 17 year old decide to get married. It is quite possible that she might be hurting the 17 year old by marrying him. Stretch your mind and think of ways this might hurt him. But in the end, she decides that she is doing the right thing.
Personally, I think she is doing the wrong thing. As the older party in the relationship, she needs to think not only of herself but of him and how their marriage could hurt him. And I might even say to her, think about what you are doing. But Im not going to give her an ultimatum Im not going to tell her that in order to be my friend, she must not marry people that are younger than 23 years of age.

Point of Concern:
Kerry voted NO on the Unborn Victims of Violence Act (aka the Laci and Connors Law) A bill that would make it a criminal offense to harm or kill a fetus during the commission of a violent crime essentially that if you harm a pregnant woman during a crime you are actually committing a crime against two people. Apparently, the law doesnt allow for the death penalty for someone who kills a fetus during the act of a crime and there are provisions to say that this bill can not be used against women who decide to abort their own pregnancy.
Kerrys response: I believe that an attack on a pregnant woman should carry increased penalties. However, legislation granting a fetus the same legal status in all stages of development as a human being is not the appropriate response. I have serious concerns about this legislation because the law cannot simultaneously provide that a fetus is a human being and protect the right of the mother to choose to terminate her pregnancy. Therefore, I do not support the Unborn Victims of Violence Act.
Im kinda stuck on this one point of concern. A crime against a woman who is pregnant is clearly, in my opinion, a crime against two people. Im having a hard time understanding why anyone would oppose this bill.
From what I can read on the floor debates about the single victim substitute that was suggested by Dianne Feinstein in place of the UVVA, it seems that those that oppose the UVVA, oppose it because if they pass it, they are in effect, opening the floodgates of recognizing the fetus as a separate entity.
Senator Russ Feingold (D-Wi.): .. But I am concerned that by recognizing the fetus as an entity against which a separate crime can be committed, the Unborn Victims of Violence Act may undermine women’s reproductive rights as set forth by the Supreme Court in Roe v. Wade.

Kerry: One Point.

But.

Why does it really matter if it’s illegal or not? I know I’m not going to have one. But what happens if my best friend decides to have one and is seriously beaten up by the doctor who did it in the dark alley?

As of right now, I won’t be heading to the polls on November 2nd.

Stop. breathe.

R* asked me last night if I could honestly say that it really didn’t matter if George or Kerry became president. It really doesn’t matter to me if George maintains the presidency or if Kerry becomes president.

Deep breaths.

Then, R* asked me if I thought it was true what they say about our generation: Do I agree that we are, in fact, apathetic about politics. I’m not apathetic about politics. I am, however, apathetic about our current choices.

At the present moment, I’m not sure how much would actually change if we get Bush out of office and replace him with Kerry.
At the present moment, I’m really fed up with all these people who say that anybody but Bush is better. Can you honestly say that when it’s all over and done with, you’ll actually be able to tell a difference?

And.

I’m not sure that any one topic – one big stand by one of the candidates that would make my ears perk up and set my feet to walkin’ toward the polling stations – will change my mind.

Unless, you’re talking about universal heatlh care or leaving iraq a lifetime supply of gummi worms.

What with getting the house ready for our thanksgiving guests and leaving two weeks before that for London, I feel a strong urge to clean my house from top to bottom. I don’t think that we’ve cleaned our bedroom since we’ve moved in and even though we tidy up my closet (which is a room) at least every other week, it is still a mess. And there’s always stuff lying on the living room floor. I’m in the mood to clean spotlessly. It seems like we’ve had eventful weekends for the past few months and I can’t think of anything that is happening this weekend, so I’m excited at the prospect of being able to clean my house.
Hopefully, my mood won’t change by week’s end.

So we’re eating dinner last night and I ask S* if she has heard from our old roommate and her husband in a while. I tell her that I tried to email M* (the husband) a few times since we left Tennessee and have never gotten a response. She tells me that she has heard that M* and B* have gotten a divorce.
This hits me hard for a few reasons.
Since I’ve known them, it’s always been B* and M*- never just B* or just M*. One of my favorite songs has a line in it that says “we’ve been together longer than most of our friends have” and I think, when i hear that song, yeah, CPH and I have been together longer than most of our friends have – longer than S* and Z*, longer than M* and J*, but not longer than B* and M*. And, there was something comforting in that.
I finally got a reply from M* confirming the rumor and I am sad. Mostly, I am sad that they had to go through this. Also, I am sad that we couldn’t have been there for them while they were going through it.

I have, since I can remember, fought with my sinuses. Sometimes, my sinuses get so clogged that those passages under my eyes swell so bad that I look like I have either been hit in the face a few times or that I am slowly tranforming into a cat person. As a child, when my damned sinuses would inhibit my ability to breathe, my mom would warm up a pot of water, drop a few spoonfuls of Vicks into the water, put a towel over my head, and I would sit there for hours sucking in mentholated air.
It’s storming here and the wind is cold – both things I, on the usual day, enjoy tremondously. Both of which, I wish were not happening on a day that I have to be at work, but clearly do not want to be.
So, other than my head being stopped up and my mouth being incessantly dry, I had a fun weekend. My moms came up and spent Saturday and Sunday morning with us. We did the usual – antique shopping and thrift store shopping and card playing and coffee drinking. What I love most about their visits is how comfortable I feel while they are here. There are some people who visit and expect to do tons of things in a town they have never seen. My moms are more content just sitting and reading or visiting.
We also have some friends from Tennessee visiting for a long weekend – which means lots of sleeping for S* and I and lots of video game playing for CPH and Z*. Good times.
We went out Saturday night to an italian restuarant. There were 8 of us – friends and family. I’m always a little nervous when old friends meet new friends. But I’m pleasantly surprised when they get along famously.

you think your roommate has just deleted a message from someone you’ve been waiting all night for a phone call from (and your roommate knows that you’ve been waiting for this phone call). Your roommate deletes the message without writing the message down. Your roommate admits that the only reason the message was deleted was due to an error in judgment – your roommate had thought this message was left days ago and your roommate thought that you had already talked to said message-leaver.
Do you a)leave the room in a huff, red in the face from trying to explain phone message etiquette or b)forgive your roommate and accept that this is the way he is and love him regardless.
Okay, going back to bed now.

CPH and I had an amazing dinner at a friend’s house last night. Unable to see the house numbers on the dark street, we walked up to his museum-like house by, as CPH put it, following the art.
We walked up the steps onto the stoop and peeked inside. Jazz music permeated through the glass and the smell of garlic greeted us at the door. I convinced CPH to open the door and announce our arrival and we hear K* from the back of the house inviting us in.
The music is loud but pleasant. The decor is crowded but mellow. There are books stacked on shelves, books stacked on tables and books stacked on floors. I decipher the catalouging method later – books that are to be looked at are stacked on shelves, books that are to be appreciated for their oldness are stacked on tables, and books that are to be studied are stacked on floors.
After dinner, we sip coffee and eat chocolate while we peruse the book collection. He hands me a photograph book of Indiana photos, he hands CPH The Future Dictionary of America. After CPH has finished thumbing through the funny book, I hand him the photograph book while I appreciate the books dedicated to studying that are stacked on the floor. K* grabs a book and we all sit and read in near silence.
This is what I have longed for for such a long time.

I had a friend in high school named J* Parker. J* and I were rather close friends and there weren’t many weekends where we wouldn’t spend nearly every waking hour with each other. I haven’t spoken with J* for about 7 years. How is it that he just popped into my head?

Friday morning, I woke up early and headed to the (uh-hum) girl doctor. Since a good friend of mine is a doctor in training, I’ve decided that, as long as they are available, I will visit doctors who are teachers and will therefore, inevitablybe poked and prodded more than once because sensibly you will have the student practice on you and then the teacher will follow behind him or her making sure that everything was done correctly. Let me just say that I am absolutely OK with this, again, because how does anyone learn a trade without practicing? I was only concerned at one point in the exam – near the end when the teaching doctor stressed, what seemed like an important task, not once, not twice, but three times (with gusto). I think she could tell that she frightened me a bit because she looked up and me and smiled and her smile seemed to say, “Oops, maybe I shouldn’t have screamed that” to which my smile replied, “um, no , probably not”.
That night, I left CPH at home to grade papers while I went out with a group of friends to dinner, a gallery opening and a concert in a courtyard. The dinner was less than average and we got to the gallery too late to really see the exhibit. But I did see some of K*’s new stuff – sculptures out of candle wax – Beautiful stuff.
And we arrived just in time to hear Jason Harrod playing a great soundtrack to the large group of people visiting out on the courtyard. It was a perfect chilly night.
Saturday was a lazy day that included sitting on my b-hind at the computer and an impulsive visit to the local Value Village.
Saturday night we had reservations at Santorini’s. We went specifically on Saturday night because L* was doing her thing. The food, as always, was yummy and beautiful.
Late Saturday night we went to friend’s birthday party and CPH sat in the dining room talking boy things with the other boys while all the girls gathered in E*’s room talking about halloween costume ideas. I’m still unsure about mine, which makes me a bit sad. I’m hoping that a (non- impulsive) visit to Value Village with my mom this weekend will inspire me.
Yesterday, CPH and I served as ushers for the very first time at church. I want you to first understand that this is the first time I have ever ushered. I want you to also understand that I don’t do things for the first time very well. In fact, my hands sweat, I get light-headed and my face often gets red when I try things for the first time. I think I did okay. The leader of the ushers gave me an easy spot and my friend E* who was also an usher that morning was cheering for me the whole time (no, i mean, literally cheering and then proceeded to give me a high five after we gathered in the back).
We went to an apple festival on Sunday afternoon with the V*’s and CPH’s parents. My mother-in-law had both knees replaced two weeks ago and she has recovered well – so well that she was able to walk around the festival with the help of her walker.
I love hanging out with the V*’s (Seven of them, in total). I love the inquisitive, but never annoying nature of those children.
When they got to our house, I was walking inside with their only boy and I heard CPH ask him, Hey, J*, what’s up? and I said, Yeah, J*, what’s up. He looks up at me and asks, “What does, What’s up, mean?”.
Also, while at the festival, CPH’s mom had bought this cute little gourd/birdhouse that was shaped like an apple. J* was sitting in his stroller and his big sister (at seven years old) was kneeling beside him trying to explain what a gourd was.
I hope my future kids are inquisitive, yet not annoying.

when i first told CPH my final decision for a final paper topic for my MPA, he laughed and said something to the effect of me being so cute and all. That is of course because he thought I was saying that I wanted to study-say this with me now- SPAICHUL (as in SPECIAL but from the hills of Eastern Kentucky) Mismatch.
Last night, we’re on the way to a friends house for dinner and I tell him that I wrote our friend Dr. N* about working on a paper with me regarding food deserts. He laughs and I say very loudly, NOT DESSERTS LIKE YUMMY PIE, BUT DESERTS LIKE DESOLATE PLACES!!
Our friend says that maybe CPH’s inner-dialogue has an accent.

Here’s a link o’ fun. I love it when people go to the store for me, come back and tell me all the cool things that are there, and then drive me to the store so I can buy it myself.

mmm laziness.

Walking back from picking up some lunch, J* is talking about why she has sworn off diet drinks and she says (I kid you not) (something to the effect of), “I feel smarter already”.
We just keep walking and then I stop and I say (something to the effect of), “Did you just say you feel smarter?”.
Apparently, aspartame screws with your memory too.

Our friend was featured in this weeks Nuvo.
He’s hip, he’ s Kipp, and he not afraid to rummage through your trash.
That should totally be his slogan. Do artists have slogans?

For some reason, I feel like when I walk into my house tonight, the smell of fresh pine will greet me and I will walk into the dining room, turn on the christmas tree lights, and start wrapping presents. And this isn’t a longing feeling, it’s a statement of possibility, like this really could happen when I go home tonight.
And it’s a very, very strange feeling.

helping a friend with a blog design and I’m looking though my paint-ing folder. This is the picture I painted for E* as a thank you gift for gmail.

The following are pictures that were part of a book I made for J* right after she became a big sister for the very first time.

and

and

and

and finally

Erica of Currently has a fun little page up. Go see it here.

Oh, the dreams I have about being as good as her.

Sigh.

So, I’m sitting at my desk eating left-over salmon cakes and green beans and I think (something to the effect of), mmmm yummy. Then I think. OH MY GOD. Green Beans, Patties with couscous and spinach….MATURITY WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME??

We finally cleaned up the kitchen from the party on Friday night. Before R* was done washing the last of the dishes, I started on dinner (a left over recipe from the party that I’m glad we didn’t do – not because it was not good, but because it was very (did I say VERY?) time consuming). So, we have more dishes to do tonight. We would have cleaned up the kitchen in its entirety after dinner, but instead we went to Super Target and perused the clearance aisles and shopped for ingredients for crockpot chili (which is warming up as we speak).
After we got back from target (and AFTER we unloaded the groceries into the cabinets, refrigerator and freezer – Blah, that has to the worst part of shopping), we settled in the living room, grabbed the left over Pumpkin Fluff Dip (which was described at the party as Autumn in the mouth), flipped on the Tivo, and started watching the Vice-Presidential Debate. I found it interesting, CPH felt sorry for Cheney and disliked the moderator, R* commented on how she hated the Vice-President and his board-room personality. I think she’s just jaded from her Corporate Banking experience.
I was thinking this morning how annoying it must have been for CPH’s brother at the party. Our friends quickly made a habit of staring at D* when they first walked by him (jaws hitting the floor, stopping in your tracks staring). That must have gotten old really, really fast.
Then I was thinking how fun it would be to have a party when (if) my brother comes to visit to see if anyone saw any resemblance whatsoever. They might be clued in when he tackled me to the floor or when he kept hitting me in the shoulder. Is it normal for near-thirty and just-over-thirty year olds to act this way?

Does anyone remember this? When it happened, I remember thinking this guy is going to be president someday. Today, I read this and I think, Oh my goodness, I can see the future.

If anyone is voting in Chattanooga in 2006, take a look at her. She is quite the amazing lady.

So, I’m listening to 97x and the Earlimart song, Hidden Track, is playing. I swear it sounds just like Elliot Smith’s song where he says…and I swear I don’t have a gun. I google the lyrics to see what the name of the song is because my plan is to complain on this site how I am starting to dislike Earlimart because they do sound exactly like Elliot Smith (which I guess answers my question here). In my google search I find this.
Sheesh.

It makes me very uncomfortable when a person whose blog that i read on a regular basis gets on my nerves. It makes me more sad that the more I read it, the angrier I get and I can’t do anything about it. I can’t stop reading it because, let’s face it I have a very addictive personality. I can’t say anything to the person because, let’s face it I’m a very non-confrontational person.
I think I need to let go.

The party, I believe, was a great success. Pictures will be forthcoming. I think we had a total of around 30 people, with about 15-20 being the average. Some children (with their parents, of course) showed up at the beginning of the party and I felt bad that I didn’t have any toys for them. When we lived in Tennessee, we had close friends who had children, so I had a toy box for when they would come visit. When we left the state, I gave the toys to the children. The friends we have made here have children as well, but we haven’t really had any of the children over for a visit, so I was ill-prepared. But they seemed to enjoy running up and down the sidewalk in front of our place for a few hours and then we popped in the Iron Giant which seemed to hold their attention for a little while longer. I was a little worried about a few guests who I figured would not necessarily fit in with the rest of the crowd, but they seemed to congregate together (ended up playing a board game). We had tons of food and some good liquored up lemonade, which according to a stranger, was mixed very well. All in all, I think the party was a smashing success.
The next day, CPH and I went over to his parents for the family party. We stopped by Yats for pick-up, which meant that the food was lukewarm by the time we arrived at their house. After lunch, we all went to the living room and I fell asleep on the floor. I woke up to hear Veggie Tales in the background and CPH saying to his brother(something to the effect of), “It’s a CARTOON” and his brother saying to him (something to the effect of), “The Bible shows Jesus as….”. Needless to say, I fell back asleep.
More to come with pictures….

i was trying to get into my professors office. it was my turn to give the student lecture and i had to get something out of his office.
R* had given me a letter from her dad, where her dad admits that the chinese are not faring as well as everyone would have us think. The letter is written in perfect cursive with bullet points. I think that R*’s dad had thought that she was going to give the lecture.
At a chinese restaurant trying to find index cards. A young asian woman comes over to help. A tall (around the same age) asian guy motions us into the back room. He says that he can give us what we need but first my helper has to give him something: a kiss. It’s all very movie-like.
Next thing I know, we’re in a place that looks like a wooden-fenced in backyard, but there is a ceiling. For some reason, I know that this is where the V*’s used to live and that the F*’s lived next door. The tall asian guy has turned into a black guy and he’s leaning out the window, trying to catch a coffee can that is attached to a piece of twine. I hear the cops coming up the stairs and they can’t get in our door because it is locked. The go next door to have the person look out the window. I run to the window to tell the black guy and the asian girl to look out. They come back inside and stand by the window. The lady walks by (very easily) on the ledge. She says something to the effect of: “you boys getting into trouble tonight?”. Then she comes in the window and walks out the door. As she’s walking out, I ask her if she has any index cards. She says no.
I’m now in an apartment that has much the same layout as the last place i lived at in Chattanooga. The living room is full of people I know. I’m standing by the door, fretting about what shoes to wear. Some people drag in the charred bodies of the black guy and my helper. I ask what happened and they say that the black/asian guy was really the sun god and that he had tried to take his mistress home with him.
I’m in R*”s room trying to find a black belt and I come out and the black/asian guy jumps up and blasts me with something futuristic and all i can think is how happy I am that I won’t have to do the lecture tonight. I wake up and L* is giving me a key to my office to go get my lecture notes. She says its the turkey one. I look down and the key is shaped like a turkey leg. I run out the door and the alarm goes off.

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No matter how old you are, words that have a sexual connotation, but aren’t meant in a sexual manor are still funny as all get out.
What did I do last night?
I rasterbated, then I watched R* screw.
hehe