My idea of a thrilling Saturday night.

Christmas has come and gone. There was a death in the family. I got a combination of the flu and food poisoning at the funeral… reception? Is it called a reception? Since my sister got married far away from her family, not many people were able to go to the wedding so she had another wedding reception here. Two days after the funeral.

My sister rearranged her flight stuff in order to be able to spend time with her grandfather. She got here four days before he died. She wrote a poem about it. Eventually, I’ll share it here, but she didn’t have a share button on her blog and since I’m blogging via phone, I’m not able to cut and paste it. It made me teary eyed.

On the day of the funeral, my mom acted like a seven-year-old. I know that is typically how she acts, but it kind of made me mad. I mean, show a little respect. She got some sock monkey mittens for Christmas, and they are really cute, but she wanted to wear them to the funeral. I had to tell her no. She started whining, so I had a work friend text her and tell her that it was not cool to wear something so whimsical to something so solemn. She eventually agree not to wear them… as long as we listened to “Shiny Happy People” in the car. We listened to it at least 4 times. I am so over that song, now.

I could keep going on, but it seems so silly and pointless now. I guess the whole ordeal made me kind of depressed, or at least a little melancholy, but I can’t seem to find the humor in situations anymore. And discovering ridiculous things is like my trademark.

I hope I’m just going through a phase. It’s cold and winter now. The wind seems to have blown my optimism away. I’ll try to find it again, and maybe be able to write about my New Year’s goals. I don’t make resolutions. Those are broken too easily.

How can I cheer myself up?

I’ve had this feeling for the past couple of days. There is this horrible knot in my stomach that just attacks me every so often. There is nothing I can do about it and I didn’t know what was causing it until a few minutes ago.

My very sick ex-step-grandfather hasn’t eaten in two days. Hospice has been called. Almost all of the family is here.

The only thing I know to do is pray, but I have no idea what to pray for. He was given up to six months to live in October. We were hoping he would make it to Christmas So when my sister who lives So far away came to visit, she could say goodbye.

But it’s not looking very good. One of his lungs doesn’t work anymore, and the other keeps filling with fluid. They say he’ll probably drown. I just can’t imagine what life is like for him right now. Life or death… depending on how you look at it.

Do I pray he fights through this and eats a little so he can last a little longer? Do I pray it happens quickly so he’s done suffering? What can I do?

Wait. That’s all that’s left right now.

Luckily, tonight wasn’t one of my late nights. I started feeling the Helmet of Hate again when I got home, though. There was a truck parked in my neighbor’s space. “Great,” I think, “Upstairs Lady is going to be having a party tonight.”

Was I ever wrong!

She is moving out! I was about to open the front door of the building when I saw a couple people and a giant entertainment center in the hall. After hearing the good news, I helped carry the thing to the truck. Internally, I was overjoyed! Here I had spent all day mad at God for one situation in my life, and he answers a prayer for another thing!

Now I feel both excited and guilty. I’m excited because God hasn’t forgotten me. Maybe something will happen with the other thing, too! Guilty because I’ve been a brat all day long. God has been doing something wonderful, and I haven’t even been appreciative for what he’s already done for me.

Since it’s such a small business, they know me by name. As soon as I tell them my name, they ask me what I’ve done to my Cobalt now…. they remember what car I drive! I had some stuff fixed on my car yesterday and my total came to $80 less than they had estimated. They had tacked on another repair “just in case” onto my estimate. Made me happy!

Now a brief story before I attempt to review a book:

This morning, I was getting ready for work when I heard a cacophony of crows outside of my apartment. They seriously kaa-ed for a good five minutes. There were at least five different, distinguishable “voices” that I heard and it really creeped me out. It sounded like some kind of meeting out there. Normally, I’d be fine with this. A bunch of crows gathered in a big tree in November in Iowa? Well, that’s pretty much a typical thing. My issue, though, is that I have recently finished book one of The Wildwood Chronicles.

This book was written by Colin Meloy, aka the lead singer/songwriter of The Decemberists. I really enjoy The Decemberists and the stories that are told in their songs. They use all kinds of fun instruments in their little collective and pretty much sound like they’re always having a good time. This is why I was so excited to find that Meloy had written a not just a book, but a children’s book.

The Wildwood Chronicles was written for kids, ages nine and up. It has some illustrations in it, which is always a plus, and kept my attention for the entire time I read it. But here’s the thing… it’s not really a children’s book. As soon as I realized that, I was a little more okay with it.

The premise of the story is that a twelve year old girl is in charge of her baby brother for the afternoon. While they were at a park, a murder of crows abducts the baby and flies him away to the Impassable Wilderness (see why I was freaked this morning?). The rest of the book describes many of the adventures the Prue and her friend,Curtis, have while trying to locate the baby and get back home.

Like I said, I did enjoy reading the book, but it’s not for kids. I am an educated, thirty-one year old woman, but I had to keep dictionary.com pulled up pretty much the entire time I was reading it.  I have always considered myself to have a large vocabulary, but, seriously, some of these words were ridiculous! I can’t think of any specifics now, but I could not imagine knowing these words when I was nine. And most of what happened in the book was very dark and kind of scary.
The other thing that I really had issues with is that it strongly reminded me of Narnia and Avatar mused together. It made me sad that Meloy, who writes incredibly memorable and original songs like “The Mariner’s Revenge Song” or “The Perfect Crime 2″ could punk out and steal ideas. He probably didn’t do it on purpose, but, seriously, the Dowager Governess from Wildwood could be the White Queen from Narnia.

This month, obviously, is NaNoWriMo. I’ve decided to give it a go. And I found out that I am really out of practice. I’m actually not sure if I’ve tried very hard before to write fiction. As I’m going along, I find that my writing lacks. I’ve started in first person, but I’m pretty sure my story wants to be written in third. As I read during my lunch break, I find that instead of just consuming my books, I’m actually studying to see how this writer does things. I’ve never paid that much attention to other writer’s technique before.

I don’t think my story is going to be very good, but it is a good experience. And I’m kind of having a good time doing it, too, except when my upstairs neighbor is loud. And she’s been loud a lot, lately, usually after 10pm.

Upstairs Lady has been a pretty good neighbor. She’s probably close to my mom’s age. Recently,  though, she’s been having loud, raucous friends over at strange times of night. I don’t often get home until after 8. Someday, her friends are there then. Sometimes they don’t come over until around ten. There was one night that they woke me up at two in the morning. They’re loud. They listen to music even louder.

I got to a point on Thursday that I couldn’t take it anymore. I was sitting at my laptop, writing, and all of a sudden all the Techno music was playing. It sounded like there was a rave upstairs. I was in my pajamas with No make up on. It was after ten. I knew that if I didn’t say something, I would just get really angry and do something mean and ridiculous, like call the cops on them.

So I went upstair, which was starting to sound more like a college frat house than a middle aged ladies apartment, and tried to look as pathetic as possible as I rang the doorbell. Her friends all cried, “uhh ohh!” as I heard her make her way to the door.

After I pled my case and said it sounded like I was attending a rock show in my bedroom, she explained to me her friends were showing her how to use the computer. After thanking her profusely, she said, “it won’t happen again, baby.” Yeah. She called me baby. Her friends left not long after that and I was proud that I stood up for myself. That doesn’t happen very often.

The next evening, I got home as another one of my neighbors was leaving. “So, I heard it was a little loud for you last night…” Apparently word travels fast in my little 5-plex. I don’t want to be that person in the building that complains about everything.

After a few failed ideas, I finally thought of a great way to do it. Reverse trick or treating. What does that mean? I go to their house with goodies instead of going there and expecting to get something. I brought my sister along with me because I wasn’t sure what to expect. We pulled up to the house and walked to the front door with peanut butter cookies in tow (grandpa’s favorite), and I noticed a warning posted on the door.

Oh, right. He’s on oxygen now. Grandma greeted us at the door and she was thrilled that we came to visit. It was barely six in the evening, but very dark out. We went into the kitchen where the strong, silent man that I’d kind of feared through the years was sitting at his normal space at the table. Only he didn’t look as strong… granted, he didn’t look frail, but even since I’d seen him in September, he looked weaker. The oxygen tubes were spread all over The floor. (“Damn these tubes! If you see him turn blue, it’s because I’m stepping on the tube.”) He didn’t say much. His eyes looked bigger. He coughed a bit. He was worn out by 7:15. (“It’s a party around here… going to bed at 7…”)

They both had fairly good attitudes… considering. It didn’t really hit me how little time we have left with him until I saw him. Now, it’s the only thing I can think about. I barely got any sleep because I kept running through different scenarios.

I’m going to try to make my visits a weekly thing… even after he goes. I’ve been a terrible grandchild. Well, they’re not really my grandparents. They are my ex-step-father’s parents. They’ve been around for most of my life, thought. They deserve better treatment than I’ve given them.

I guess it’s a good thing I figured this out now before it’s too later. 

The blood and gore and grossness has a completely different reaction from me. Thinking about things under my skin makes me light headed and I’ve gotten close to fainting when I’ve heard such things discussed before. I’m so squeamish about visceral stuff that one time I almost had to pull over because my contemplation the heart just kind of hanging in my chest, kind of protected by other organs started making me see in tunnel vision. I think I saved myself that time by thinking about kittens or candy or something. My work friends know better than to talk about gross stuff around me. Actually, they warn me so I can leave.

But this time of year is filled with all the stuff that makes me jump or feel queasy. I don’t like scary movies. Cobwebs are gross. I am not a fan of all the dead or half dead or deadly costumes that are prevalent.

I do like dressing up, though. I’m not working on Halloween this year, so the dressing up isn’t going to happen. It had in past years, though. At the teen center, I’ve been a princess and Mario (my Mario costume was made completely of Duck Tape… all the way down to the moustache). I’ve been Garth from Wayne’s World, Judy Nails from Guitar Hero, and a crazy cat lady. I was planning on being a ninja this year, but the only part of that outfit I currently have are the nunchucks. Maybe next year.

I’m not doing anything super special this year for Halloween, just hanging out with my sister and kind of sister-in-law (the relationships in my family are so hard to understand) and eating fondue while handing out candy.

Candy! I forgot about candy! There is the part of Halloween I can really get behind!     

This is going to be kind of a manic post, but that’s fitting because that’s the way the last few days have been. I’m going to write about my happy things first, because my sad things make my happy things seem very trivial. In the grand scheme of things, they are, but the trivial keeps my mind off of the foreboding.

Happy thing #1

Yesterday was Coldplay day. I have been an avid Coldplay fan since I learned to like their first album, Parachutes, back when I was a sophomore  in college. My music world at the time consisted mainly of the Christian music Big Three, DC Talk, Audio Adrenaline, and Newsboys. I was kind of branching out and listening to lesser known Christian bands like Switchfoot and Third Day and occasionally weird things that my across the hall neighbors listened to, like Five Iron Frenzy and The W’s.

Coldplay was not Christian.

I felt like I was rebelling when my friend told me they kind of sounded like Radiohead. I’d heard of them. But they were really weird (little did I know, ten years later, Radiohead would be one of my favorites).

Coldplay grew on me. In fact, a song on their second album actually played a big part in my conversion story. They became my favorite band even though their third album started sounding U2-ish. The fourth album was a bit more uplifting, and I loved the strange instrumentation.

Unfortunately, I feel that their sound if changing completely. They’re sounding a lot more… poppy. They have the thumping bass and unnecessary keyboard sound, and don’t get me started on the song with Rihanna. It’s not a bad song, but it’s not a Coldplay song.

Overall, the album is consistent with itself. There isn’t one song that I went, “Whoa! What just happened?” But, the heart wrenching songs are missing. When I listen to Coldplay, I want depressing music, not happy, teenager, boppy music.

I think it just needs to grow on me.

Happy thing #2 (and this one will actually be happy…)

I finally bought my very own ukulele today! It’s adorable! Right now, I just have the uke so it’s kind of art. I need to buy a method book so I can develop some skill… not saying I’m going to be the next Ingrid Michaelson or anything. I’d just like to know how to play. Right now it’s hanging out with my books.

Sad thing #1

I volunteer at a teen center once a week. I love going and just hanging with the kids, but it was tough yesterday. The things these kids have to deal with just blow me away! We had a sharing time yesterday, and I could have just cried listening to them. Yesterday was the anniversary of the day one girl had been raped. Another has a suicidal mother and mentally ill father. One boy doesn’t know how he is going to handle every day. These kids are sitting in these circles pouring our their hearts to each other, without worrying what another will think.

Then, the spell is broken. They’re kids, again, playing four square and wrestling. Eating junk food. Taking about scary movies.

Every year, these kids break my heart. I wish I could do something to help them, but really all i can do is listen. And that’s probably all they want me to do, anyway.

Sad thing #2

I got some bad news about a loved one the other day. I’m going to have to tell a grandfather figure goodbye. I’ve never really been around someone who is dieing, and i honestly am not sure how to act when I’m around him. I know he doesn’t want a big deal made, but i want him to know I love him and that I am so thankful for everything he’s done in my life. It’s tough to talk about and hurts to think about.

Maybe the best thing to do is go and keep him company.

One of my religion professors said he though being in Heaven was going to be like being at a giant sporting event. All of these believers are going to fill up this gigantic stadium with God and Jesus hanging out in the field as the main attraction. He also said that he thought that however close a person was to the field was decided on how much that person did for the Kingdom. So, martyrs and such would have the best seats while people who were Christian but rather quiet about it would be in the nosebleeds. Granted, everyone would be excited to be included in the sold out event, but they would all be treated differently.

This theory has never really sat well with me. I mean, I can see how it makes sense, but I always felt bad for the people in back. I’m not sure where I’d be seated, but maybe it’s the having assigned seats thing that throws me off. Or maybe it’s the sports analogy.

I prefer to think of Heaven as the biggest, best, yet most organized, rock show ever. We have been waiting for this for our whole lives! It’s the big event!

Last night was the last time I am ever going to see the David Crowder*Band perform live…unless they decide to have a reunion tour or something. It was amazing. It’s so hard to describe the feeling there is when an entire venue is packed with people who are there to worship God collectively. The entire mass of people bobbing to the music and raising their hands in praise. I am not a very big person, and I did not buy early admission tickets so, of course, i got stuck behind some rather tall people (one of my friends described them as body builders). The people around me were so kind. One of the guys I was standing by tried to find a way for me to get a little closer so it would be easier to see. Someone behind me offered to take pictures for me because he had a better vantage point. It felt safe. It felt like home.

This is how I imagine Heaven. Yes, it’s going to be huge. Yes, it’s going to be packed, but the people are going to be there not because they have to be the closest people to the front, but because they want to be in the vicinity of our Lord. Last night, I was happy to hear Crowder speak. I was stoked to hear the guitars dueling. Yes, I did want to see everything, but just being in the room was enough.

I’m excited to be in the same room as my Saviour. I’m looking forward to meeting new people who are just as thrilled to be there as I am. I want to help the people around me get a glimpse of Jesus just like those people helped me last night.

I am so excited for eternity!