Archive for September, 2006

Where are you going?

This week at work has been nuts. I’ve been going nuts and people have been driving me there. I have now officially arrived. I may not leave. It’s kind of nice here, actually.

Here’s how I took the little trip I took to Crazy.

On Wednesday I had a meeting with a person who governs a program. I explained a few things about how this program was being carried out, namely that other people were not following the rules. Program Person (PP) understood this, agreed with me and decided that the words coming out of my mouth were correct and that my suggested course of action should be followed.

On Thursday PP asked me to write an email and tell a Rule Breaker (RB) to get with the program and color inside the lines. I did that. I copied PP and RB’s Boss and the RB’s Boss’s Boss and my boss and some other bosses, just so that everybody would remember how to play by the rules. First there was an email from the RB’s boss, stating that what I said was correct and that going forward, things would be different. Then I got an email, just to me, from the RB’s Boss’s Boss, congratulating me and calling me “The Hammer.” Then the RB wrote back, all hot and bothered, with Exclamation Points!!!! and YELLING WITH CAPITALIZATION. I found this amusing and did not get upset by his letter, which had obviously arrived from Crazyland. That’s when the email arrived that put me on the bus toward that same place. The PP writes and says, “RB, you are so right! And what you want to do can be counted in the program. We will give you what you want.”

Can you see why my brain willingly bought the ticket for that bus? Six hours had not past since I told PP why RB was wrong and he had AGREED with me. Now, with one email full of flamboyancy, it was all for naught – as if I had never opened my mouth. As if the program rules have not been written. As if I had never written the first email. As if the program does not exist. As if I did not exist.

And so I’ve decided to believe all of them. I’m just going to go play with the rest of the nuts around here now. I’m pretty sure we can invent our own program and then not follow any of our rules together! It’s going to be such fun!

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Take Note

They changed the trash bags at my office. They were clear before and now they are black, the same color as the cans. It makes more sense, but looks more industrial.

I listened to a woman go on and on about how disorganized she is right now while she stood in the kitchen and drank coffee. I think I may know the source of her problem.

Do you remember the dumpster saga? Click here for pictures. The short version of the drama goes like this…

In the month of May our landlord was instructed by the city to put an enclosure around the dumpster due to a rezoning that made our neighborhood a historic district. The landlord hemmed and hawed until fines were threatened and thus began the unending project of construction. He made the duct tape “Dumpster Here” sign and ever so slowly started the work to remove some cement and dirt, pour new cement, put in poles and then, well, the project stalled out. Now, I should tell you that the project never really gained momentum in the first place; after all, it took three months just to get the hole dug and the cement poured. Nothing has happened for weeks and weeks now, except that the dumpster has migrated further and further into the driveway and street, nearly blocking our exit. On Monday morning, Jud had had enough. He moved the 2x4s that were blocking the dumpster’s new home in it’s nook (still without it’s enclosure) and began waiting for sounds of the garbage man. This morning, hearing the truck rumbling up, he jogged outside, hopped up on the side of the truck and told the guy to put it where it should go. Garbage man didn’t know if he could get the angle quite right, but Jud encouraged him quite a bit and ta-da! Our dumpster is now out of the driveway and out of the street. Our landlord will, no doubt, see this as the reason to never finish the project.

My Seminary Wives Bible Study officially has no members. This is due in large part to the fact that no one knows it exists. I suppose I should’ve made some fliers or something, but I don’t even know how to disseminate them and I am thinking maybe there is no need for the study. I can’t help but wonder why they were recruiting teachers/leaders if they didn’t have people to fill groups.

My house needs a good cleaning but I am lacking any real motivation to clean it up…I guess we better schedule some dinner guests or I’ll just leave the squalor for later. Anybody need a meal?

Our cell phone bill and our AT&T bill were both double the expected amounts in September. Can’t wait for October to roll in!

We are about to buy a new computer and have decided against the Apple world (somewhere my father breathes a deep sigh of relief). Allison, Nathan, Brandon and the jerks at the Apple store all contributed great insight into the purchase. Thank you for your efforts to shoot straight and not be all ‘I heart all things Mac” in a crazy way (except for the Apple store holier-than-thou clerks, who, may I remind you, you are working RETAIL at a store that is all WHITE and thus have no firm footing for your pretentiousness, or at least no reason to be as smug as to ask me “well, do you ever use a computer?”).

Apparently, TO tried to kill himself last night. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions on that one.

Finally, in the last bit of random news from Kim, I don’t think I told you that I bought a leather chair at an auction. The auction was, and thus the chair is, in Omaha. Anyone with a truck who is willing to bring the chair down will receive three nights lodging, all the home-cooked food during their stay and one dinner at Matt’s (I know, it’s quite the bargain!).

Put the Lying Away

The Invitation

My dad turned 50 yesterday and we planned this surprise party for him over the past couple of months…invitations were created and sent (as you can see), party supplies were purchased and hidden, music was purchased and downloaded and hope was extended that he would not discover us. Amazingly, he didn’t, and on Saturday, after taking him to a movie and lunch, when the call came in from a work associate to come to work and put out a fire, he totally bought it. Off we drove to the party, without even a hint of suspicion in his heart.

There were lots of old and new friends waiting to say hello, give him a hard time about his age, but mostly to remember all of the ways my dad has impacted their lives. There were the old military friends who served with him in a cause that still unites them. There were neighbors who share a fence and their thankfulness for his snow shoveling, grill conversation and breakfasts spent talking. There were my mother’s friends who know how great he is by the flowers he sends her at work, just because, and the way he’s always willing to help their company look good at city wide events. There were church friends who have benefited from his teaching, shepherding and time, even when that time is not visible to them, but, were it not given, would reveal gaping holes in their church family’s life. There was a wife who has spent the last thirty years celebrating his life by respecting him and knowing she was loved in return. There were two kids who know the rareness of a father who cares beyond material possessions, who gives without expecting anything to return to him, who has time and time again laid down his life so that they might know his love and the Love that doesn’t ever fade. The people came to celebrate a life that has been so well lived, that it is hard to know how to tell him “Congratulations” without saying “Thank You”.

Happy 50th Birthday, Dad. Thank you.

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Horsing Around in the Old Sanctuary

Summer 2003

Just a Few Years Back Now

There’s Gold in Them There People

I wish I would’ve taken Luke’s advice last night, but I did as Cheryl suspected…coffee with the woman I met and then I zipped over to catch the main points of the other meeting.

The coffee house adventure was…strange. Instead of giving you the details of the event, I thought we could instead go over a couple of ground rules for inviting people to coffee.

Rule #1 – If meeting at the coffee shop, take a prominent table from which you can see the door. In contrast, I would not suggest sitting in the very back, with your back to the door when you are meeting someone who will barely recognize your face, but probably not the back of your head.

Rule #2 – Coffee shop meetings are favorable for their relaxation and ease. Try not to grill the person with whom you are meeting for their life story as this may set his/her teeth on edge.

Rule #3 – If the coffee sharing has a hidden agenda (say, like prospecting someone for network marketing) you will creep out/annoy your coffee companion unless you tell him/her upfront what you are planning to do.

Rule #4 – This is maybe less a rule and more of just a suggestion, but it’s probably better to not go around telling people you’ve just met that you can interpret dreams and most of your friends are “seers” who can predict the future for specific individuals. You know, a suggestion.

Suffice it to say that the glass of wine would’ve helped.

I made the very end of the other meeting and then chatted with some of the girls until about 10 pm when Jud called to make sure that none of the sirens outside were for me. I had not been attacked or accosted, but I was causing angst, so I hoped in the ol’ Alero, dodged the homeless and indigent, and made my way back home.

Double Booking

Last Tuesday night I went to the Women’s Kick Off event at our church. I met a bunch of women, chose a study to attend and tried not to look as tired as I felt. Shortly after the official presentation, a woman, about my age, came over and introduced herself. We set up a coffee date for tonight at 7pm.

On my way home a professor’s wife called me and asked if I would teach a Sem Wives Bible Study. I agreed to do it, but the catch is that there is a meeting for the leaders at 7pm tonight.

Last night, Jenn called my (then battery drained) cell phone (after she woke up from a long nap and while I was still taking mine 🙂 to see if we could do coffee tonight at 7pm.

Sorry, Jenn! I will have to put off our meeting. But what do I do about the double booking for coffee and the meeting tonight? I am stumped.

Here’s this nice woman who really seemed like she wanted to meet and on whom I do not want to flake out and then I have this other thing that needs me to be there if I’m going to teach Wednesday night…might need a little more info about anyone who signed up for the study already…details about things of which I am currently ignorant…but the woman is just one woman and as such, the coffee seems more important because the meeting will happen even with someone missing…and I did schedule the coffee first (Can you see my mind running in furious circles? Do you taste the burning?).

I think the only answer is to call Greta (who is going to the meeting and can probably fill me in on the details I’ll miss and would most likely collect any information that I need and could tell them all that I am not a flaky person but just double booked myself. Although, I don’t think she knows me enough to know I am not flaky. And then again, this is not the first time I’ve double booked myself and maybe that reveals a pattern in my life that proves my flakiness. Yes. Yes. That’s true. I am flaky and I suppose now quite a number of people will know the truth. Well, just the other women who are teaching. There’s really not too many of them. Oh yeah, and all of you.)

Perhaps Doomed…Then Again, Maybe Not

First, let me take one moment to congratulate all of you for stepping out of the shadows of the webinet and right down there into the limelight of the comments section (Nichole! Hi, Nichole!! I had no idea you were here and then you said you were and it made me feel so happy to know that. Hi! Thanks for thinking I am entertaining and also that I think like you because we who think like this could possibly be shunned by the rest of society and one day may need to form a little band of people who will keep thinking these obsessive thoughts without reason and then neurose about whether or not the other people in the group really like them or if they think our sweaters are totally out of style. Hi!!!!)

(Now I sort of wish that I would have made that pro-delurking post a contest because imagine the others who, with a little motivation, might stand up and admit they read. But Nichole did not need anything more than a good laugh before she stepped out into the comments and thus, she is the most brave commenter. Not that I don’t love you all, but I did already know you were reading (and pretty much how frequently too – Thank you Stat Counter!)). To the rest of you who remain in the shadows, know that I am watching you 23.546.77 (okay, so maybe that’s not a real ip address, but I think you still catch my drift. Yeah, you know who you are).

And now I give you today’s real post:

A couple of weeks ago I told you all about my CANCER (I usually whisper that, so I’m going to go to the other extreme today). I went to the witch doctor and he excised it from my nether regions with hot electrified objects. I was supposed to go see him after four weeks but, in true Kim form, I put it off…for a week…because I was ‘busy’ and also ‘traveling’ and maybe ‘scared of really knowing anything.’ But I broke down on Monday and called and got an appointment and then yesterday I went to his office.

He looked around a bit and told me that while my margins were free of CANCER they were not free of abnormality. Hooray! No CANCER! But also Boo! Some abnormality!

What will become of those abnormalities? Well, I can tell you one thing, I am for sure not going to shell out a bunch of money on their education. If they want something in this world, they are going to have to learn how to get it for themselves. Wait. Maybe that’s something else.

Yeah, so the bad cells have three options.
1. Keep being bad, but not necessarily graduate to full on criminality (stay abnormal)
2. Graduate to full scale felony assault (you know, CANCER)
3. Go away forever

Nobody knows why they choose the path they choose, or how to influence them one way or another. I do believe in prayer and that God is powerful enough to remove them forever. I do know that we are praying for that very thing. I don’t know if God will answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’ or ‘later’. We’ll just keep asking and would appreciate it if you would too.

In the meantime, I’m going to make them listen to a lot of motivational speakers and to the guy in the cockroach suit hocking bug spray so that they can choose which life they want to live.

Reasons Why You Don’t Comment

We have a stat counter on this blog. We know you are reading these very words. We see your IP address. We know the country, state and city in which your IP address lives. We know all.

But why are you not commenting?

This is a very important question that begs an answer, people. BEGS. And thus, I give you…The List About Why You Are Lurking (aka Fishing for Comments From our Loyal Readers Who Totally Stink at Telling Us What They Think).

1. You are trapped by the bookshelf that fell over and the only motor skill left after your spine was severed is the one that lets you keep refreshing this page.

2. You are illiterate and only look at this page for the ‘funi pitchurz.’

3. You are my grade school nemesis who does not want me to know your true identity.

4. You are way too busy (like, you have no idea!) to click on that little link at the bottom and then actually, like, um, type something and then possibly, I dunno, create a profile and stuff and like seriously, don’t even get me started about word verification!

5. You are at work and believe ‘they’ are tracking you. Although you are not scared of ‘them’ enough to keep from reading this site, you are positive ‘they’ will shut you down as soon as they see you leave a comment.

6. You are terrified to comment given my incredible blogging powers that I lord over your weak little typing skills.

7. You are only reading so that you can see if your voodoo is working.

8. You found this blog by hitting the blogger.com “next blog” link and have the attention span of a gnat.

9. You are Jud’s ex-wannabe-almost-in-your-mind-only girlfriend and are totally afraid of Kim inviting you to the gun show if you tell them you are here.

10. You don’t know how.

(Know how you can tell me which answer is yours? POST A COMMENT!)