Longing for the High Places

I was talking with one of my bestest friends this afternoon and she was talking about her life our West, where mountains are many and great stretches of plain are few. The more she talked the more I desired to hop on a plane to Streamboat Springs, Colorado, my family's home away from home. I became nostaglic over this summer's trip where this is the sight rounding the bend as one drives down the Mt. Werner towards the town. :sigh:

Consider This

"Perhaps where you live you don't see a whole lot of poverty, so you're not directly confronted by the need to consider the poor. We can sometimes bring our definition of 'poor' to its lowest and absolute form, which in turn can affect how responsible or involved we feel we should be in bringing answers. When we start thinking about the poor as anyone who is less fortunate than ourselves, we'll never have difficulty finding people to consider."

-Brian Houston, Hillsong Church
Sydney, Australia

Decision of a Renaissance Woman

Halloween 2007

This is what happens when you don't speak up soon enough: you become the devil and your friend takes the angel costume.

Expectations

As I am sure it is with all humans, the notion of expectations has been one I've increasingly grappled with in growing older, particularly within relationship. My personal trend is toward high expectations of others and even higher expectations for myself. With each of life's hard knocks my expectations of other have lowered of others and with each new to-my-knees moment my expectations of myself have (slowly!) been lowering.

After a breakup with a boyfriend about a year ago, conversation with friends and family seemed to center around the concept of "no expectations". A concept which I have no acquaintance with and honestly, I don't think any of you do either, no matter how much pain life's thrown onto your shore. (I have met people who seem remarkably good at having no expectations but, as I've grown closer in my relationship with them, I've only found such to be a mask or a substantial denial.) Anyways...after reading one of Jason Upton's blog entries, I've begun to think the conversation of high expectation - low expectation - no expectation may not exactly be the terms with which God approaches the topic "expectation". So often I think we leave God out of our conversation about expectation. Without God any one take (high, low, or no) leads to hopelessness, I think.

I like the angle Upton takes to the topic...

"Tonight Samuel and I read the story of ‘Jacob and Esau making peace'. The verse that stuck out to me the most tonight is Genesis 33:10, where Jacob says to Esau "And what a relief to see your friendly smile. It is like seeing the face of God." Jacob was preparing to meet a very angry and bitter Esau, but instead was received with Love and forgiveness. I believe one of the practical ways God reveals himself to us is by countering our expectations with the "last thing we expect." Expectations are one of the ways we feel in control of what is going on around us, but also one of the great blinders over our eyes from seeing God. Sometimes it is a fearful experience when things don't turn out the way we plan. Other times (like with Jacob) it is a great relief when things don't turn out the way we plan. Either way, these are often the moments in life that we see the face of God most clearly.

Today I had an experience like this. I went to the U-haul store to pick up some boxes for my wife Rachel. The clerk at the register's name was Anton. As he was taking the money I owed, I noticed his two pinky fingers were bent inward. The only other person I know that has bent pinky fingers is my friend Brandon Hampton, and he says it helps him play the guitar. All of the sudden I sensed that I was to tell Anton that God had made his pinky's that way for the purpose of being a great guitar player and they were not a deformity. Let me just say that Anton was a very large African American man who did not look like he was having a great day to begin with. I was a little worried that he might think I was calling his fingers deformed and beat me right there at the u-haul store. I told him anyway. His face got real sober and he looked up at me and said "that is really strange, because I have been learning how to play the banjo." All of the sudden he got this HUGE smile on his face as if to say ‘I need to keep playing because playing the banjo is part of my destiny." Seeing Anton's smile was like seeing the face of God. I walked out of that U-haul store with the sense that I had been face to face with God.

None of this happened today because of my expectations. My circumstances today did not at all point toward seeing the face of God. God surprised me by letting me see and experience something I was not able to expect. God's nature seems to force humanity to expect nothing but surprises."

Changed Color But Not Yet Fallen

Far too often busyness has kept me from enjoying the fall season. It's busyness, I suppose, and the reality that in the midwest the period between 90 degree weather and snow flakes is so fleeting. If you were to take only a long nap you'd miss it! Too many times flakes have covered the ground before I've been able to fully appreciate the crispness of fall and the changing color of the leaves.

Stephanie and I were determined not to let this fall season slip by. We decided it was important enough even to skip our Sunday church service to take a fall roadtrip to Galena, IL - a quaint, historic town which lies on the boarder between Iowa and Illinois. Legend has it glaciers never formed over the area hence, the rolling hills and valleys which break the miles of flat plain.

Yesterday was a most ideal fall day. Few clouds in the sky. Crisp but not chilly. Sunny. Leaves had changed color but not yet fallen to the ground.

Galena sits up on a hill. Coble stones still line the streets and the people have preserved the homes of Ulysees S. Grant and Ronald Reagan. The first bank still stands and a river runs right in front of the town.



We also made a stop in Elizabeth, another small town just outside of Galena which prides itself on the Apple River Fort. The fort, which has only two huts and measures 50 feet by 70 feet, was home to 50-70 adults (nevermind their children) for several weeks in 1832 at the start of the American-Indian War. The fort was built in defense of the Indian group led by the famed chief Black Hawk - an immensely resourceful and civilized group justifiably enraged about loosing their home to Anglos bent on conquering and colonizing land further and further West.

Illinois state grant money has allowed for the fort to be recreated to its actual measurement. Stephanie and I visited on the last day of live history, a time when a cast of characters describes and lives out the fort's activity.





And finally, we were blessed with a picturesque drive home.

Clear Off The Road

The story behind how these pictures of St. Ignatius Cathedral and the Chicago skyline is short and dangerous. Simply, I took them while I was driving. I know you're now going to want me to call you whenever I plan on driving. I am worse than a 16 year-old with a new license. What can I say?!

But, while these pictures might now insight terror in you, each time I look at them I smile. I smile because I am living my little girl dream of being a young professional who plays on the weekends under the shadows of the skyskapers.

Jason Upton - Dear John (Born)

With contemplative beauty Upton brings hope into a world which carries so much hopelessness.

Stop Looking at the Ground - Look Up!

And then, there are those moments...






...like last night's sunset.

Larry Himmel in front of his destroyed home

Prayers go out to those in California!

CCDA

The conference I attended this weekend was the Christian Community Development Association's annual networking conference. Urban ministries from all over the country came to represent. :-) Association member organizations ascribe to eight components - relocation, reconciliation, redistribution of resources, leadership development, listening to the community, as well as church-based, wholistic approach towards empowerment. The Association was founded by John Perkins and his wife, a pastor and ministry leader in Mississippi, who believed these components foundational to Biblically-sound ministries within multi-ethnic urban centers who inevitably encounter the pains and joys of seeking racial righteousness. Perkins is still alive and well, continuing this time with his morning Bible study each conference day, a ritual of his at the conference. As with most conferences, there were a few great quotes each of which, this year, came from Perkins.

"We wouldn't have so many eager leaders if they knew what their true responsibility is to be."

- in speaking about how Godly leader's first priority is in bearing the people's burdens.

"It's okay to be mad at God; He can take it."

- in his examination with the prophet Habakkuk's conversation with God.

"Plan like Jesus is going to return in 1,000 years, and behave like He's coming tomorrow."

"When God calls, He gifts the person with the relations for the call."

"Those who are called are not in competition with one another, but are

about the success of all the ministries and churches in the town."

"I can't fix everything, but I want to be concerned about a lot."

- in retort to those who say he is impassioned by too many good causes.

St. Lou - City of Many Stories

First, I must begin on a completely unrelated note to this entry. I periodically read back through my blog entries and every single time I do I am appauled by my horrid grammar and the gross number of missing words. This evening's review was no different. Seeing as my writing is what puts food on my table, I am wondering if I should begin to prepare for the imminent famine which surely is just around life's corner. Thank God I have editors for my professional work. They are getting their Christmas presents this year!

Okay, the real topic of this entry: St. Lou. I was there this weekend for a conference and to see some family. Now, I'm back with so many stories that, once I've conquered the flu virus I'm battling and have unpacked a bit more, I'll write to you about. In the meantime, it's just pictures.

1.) Courthouse of the Dred-Scott Decision + the Arch
2.) St. Louis Art Museum at night
3.) Cherokee Row (a.k.a. Main Street U.S.A.)

"God never just sends one sign: He keeps on confirming His course for us with one vision after another. But the reading of His signs is essentially a task for faith, a task for people who are willing to persist in seeking out the correspondence between the external and visible realities of their lives, and the interior weather of their souls, striving always to bring the two into line in order that the kingdom of God might come. For the interior journey is necessarily an exterior journey, the path to God necessarily the path of deepening human relationships. Marriage stands at the very hub of this exciting spiritual dialectic, for it is, as Paul points out, a cameo dramatization of the relationship of the whole church with its Lord and Savior Jesus Christ."

- Mike Mason, "The Mystery of Marriage"

This, my friends, is why when someone retorts to me, "You don't need a man, Lauren" I cringe. Because this person clearly does not understand our urban increasing, evermore independent, cyber-ridden, cynical, commitment fearing and increasingly hopeless world. These people don't seem to remember that the very man in Scripture who said that it "better to be alone than to marry" was the very same man who spent chapters more making marriage comparisons to the relationship between Christ and the Church. And, they also have forgotten the verse about iron sharpening iron and how when that iron - the person - is the one we sleep with, eat with, have friends with, work with, have sex with... the irons are sharpened in ways no homeless man in the local shelter can sharpen or your married girlfriend who comes over occasionally for a glass wine and nail polish can sharpen. And, this person who makes this retort has also forgotten Adam and Eve and the Creation story and how even though Adam supposedly had everything He needed to be happy, with the company of God ever-present, a world without sin, and as many animals, flowers, trees, and bushes a man could want Adam, in fact, still was not entirely content. Furthermore, such discontentment was not some sinful, fatal flaw but something created into him and foreseen before him by his Creator.

Okay, I'll get off my soap box, now. But, now I know you'll think twice before making such a comment to me.

With this huge heat wave covering the nation the last few weeks, I've heard many people, news reports, etc. blame all this on global warming. In fact, Time magazine this week put out a special, extra edition specifically dedicated to detailing global warming. But, has anyone thought that this might just be an answer to my prayers and those of many others that endure year after year the misery of midwest winters - gray skies for 275 days, slushy streets, extreme cold? I've been praying to God that He would extend the sunshine & warmth as long as possible. So, the way I see it, He's just lavishing good gifts on this sista.

Jesus - Defender of the Damned

I picked up this book other day - "Defending the Damned" by Kevin Davis. one of those impulsive, while-the-other-books-are-undergoing-the-scanner-I'll-pull-this-one-off-"needs to sorted" cart moments. (That can't be proper grammar.)

Davis is an award-winning journalist based in Chicago, who has written for the Chicago magazine, Tribune, Sun Times, and the list goes on. He spent five years studying public defenders at the Cook County Courthouse on California & 35th, not far from where I live. Yes, public defenders. You know the ones. The lawyers assigned to those who cannot afford to pay for a defender.

Davis was intrigued by these particular lawyer's motivation - lawyers who plead the case of individuals who, 9.8 times out of 10 are guilty, often committing their crime in broad daytime within sight of several witnesses. Davis' investigation began with several of his own, looming questions. Are these defenders conscious-less, morally-seared individuals, only a rung or two above their clients on the humanity ladder? Were they as appalled and deeply disturbed by the stoic recounts of their clients' grotesque crimes, some as heinous as the rape, murder, and dismemberment of months-old babies? How can they defend clients on trial for such "horrible acts day after day, year after year, while keeping a safe emotional distance and preserving their sanity? What motivate[s] them to come to work in such a dark place?"

I won't give away what Davis discovers (haven't yet finished the book myself). You will have to buy/borrow the book for yourself. However, from page one of the "Author's Note" I was struck by how this author was describing with secular words a secular world which has remarkable parallels to the spiritual world. Simply put, Jesus. As someone who has a fondness for seeing justice served (unless it is pointed at myself, of course) I've been regularly challenged by the notion of Jesus as our advocate - our lawyer - before the Father. For me, however, the word advocate or lawyer has always conjured up some images of a handsome man in a clean-cut suite, addicted to work and enamored with the intricacies of words and their meanings. And, because there many different kinds of lawyers the parallel between the fleshly, occupational lawyer and the seen-by-few, now-in heaven Advocate for Jesus Christ, in the past, has only retained its challenge only for so long. The endearing "warm fuzzies" of Jesus' compelling, tear-jerking closing comments to the Father on my behalf have ended once I begin the mental debate over Jesus as our property rights lawyer or international courts lawyer or... but, never has my list included Jesus as our/my public defender.

If you think about it, though, that's exactly what he is - the advocate for the damned. Served in a dark place. Saviour of those who've committed heinous crimes. Misunderstood by the media and the general public. Quickly stereotyped by a world who knows little if not anything about the case He is defending or the motive of His defense. Whose closest friends are beer-drinking, work-crazed, justice-bent, quirky men, some of whom have been raised in Chicago's Gold Coast while others pulled themselves up by their bootstraps to be something more than their coal mining father.

Having grown up in the church my entire life, attending one Christian school after the next, and now working in a ministry, the Christian cliche is just about all I can present in my explanation of the Person of my faith. So, I'm finding "Defending the Damned" to be a manual of new words, illustrations, and explanations of Jesus to a world who can't quite understand the humanity of my God.

A Simple Shake Made Way Too Complex

I met a gentleman today - 6' 4", muscular, 30-something, basketball player type. Shook his hand in introduction. He responded, "You trying to break my hand?" I laughed. smiled. explained that I ain't going to give him a "fish" handshake. (noooo way. "fish" handshakes are my pet peeve.) he kept insisting that I try the shake again. I was mildly offended by his question and by his preceding insistence that I redo the introduction. don't know what this says about me. because I'm good at majoring on the minors, I've been processing this short incident all day. I'll admit it was the woman inside of me that was peeved. problem is: my feminist lens needs to be squeegeed these days. maybe you women out there can help me. is my reaction such because he was a man, making the comment feel chauvinistic? because he was older & the comment felt as if it was some kind of parental discipline? or, maybe its embarrassment? maybe I did shake his hand too hard. difficult for me to accept the later to be true. and I predict anyone who knows me and my physical frailty might find such a rational equally as surprising. anyways... thought writing - blogging - about this would help me with the processing, but...it hasn't. :sigh:

An Un-Safe God

A memorable quote from one of the greatest children's books.

Susan: I'd thougt he was a man. I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion."
Mrs. Beaver: "That you will, dearie, and no mistake. If there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else silly.
Lucy: Is he... safe?
Mr. Beaver: Safe? Don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Of course he isn't safe... but... he's GOOD...

C.S.Lewis, "Chronicles of Narnia"

Russian Stork

Ha! Uncle Dave...

http://meta-dad.com/2007/09/25/make-a-baby-win-a-car/

Balanced, For Once

I had one of those weekends...the rare one, where you actually manage to balance social engagement with r & r. Between the ZZzzzzs and the mindless TV watching, the answering of e-mails and getting stuck in Chicago traffic, I managed to get to the Cubs game!!! That's right! I did. Hit a few of the games at the beginning of the season (pun totally intended) and even some in years past. But, I have never seen the Cubs win, so witnessing the 12-7 win on Friday night pushing them, then, to a 2.5 game lead in the division was phenomenal! Now, of course they are in a 3.5 lead and playoffs tickets went on sale yesterday, only to be sold out in 30 minutes. Here we go again folks!

Then, on Sunday, (after visiting Bethel Community Church in Jefferson Park, where I awed by the community's massive amount of warmth, depth, and diversity...but that's for another entry) I decided the place I really wanted to be was outside...with a book...a magnificent view...and friends on hand if I decided I wanted discussion. Matt and Scott's roof deck! Bingo. One little phone call, a short ride, and two books in tow I made it up to their roof for an afternoon in the sun with a couple great authors to keep me company. Oh, and Scott & Matt below if I so pleased. Here is what my Sunday afternoon sight beheld...

A balanced weekend well-done!

(We won't talk about the Bears loss...no, we won't!)

Chicago's Intriguing South Side

Can I just tell you how cool the South Side of Chicago is? It is. The organization I work for is holding a benefit dinner in October and, instead of naming the tables "1", "2", "3," I thought I would name them after landmarks on the South side. Not landmarks from across the city, but just those located on the South Side, which speak to the great impression African-Americans have made on our city and our country.

In my reflecting I feel blessed to have spent my childhood on the north side of town in Rogers Park, which offered much religious diversity, and now to be experiencing in my adulthood the South Side where, except for the burgeoning Nation of Islam, tends to be a fairly churched community. In fact, some of the largest congregations in the history of the nation were formed of African-Americans that worshipped together on the South Side. Homes of some the nation's great music heroes - homes of folks like Ida B. Wells, Phyllis Wheatley, Louis Armstrong, the Chess Bros.- scatter the Bronzeville neighborhood in which I live. Martin Luther King Jr. gave some of his greatest charges from inside the churches. And Jesse Jackson (all comments aside) headquarters his Rainbow-PUSH coalition right down the street from me. The nation's great abolitionists (as well as those who were a far-cry from) took up residence on the South Side. Blues and Jazz music gained its fame right here in Bronzeville, with its rugged jazz artists forming what would be the basis for America's rock n' roll obsession.

So fun! Come down here. We'll take a tour.

Jefferson Street

So, it's official. The year of solo living is coming to an end. An apartment has been found!

Kim and I found a place in east Pilsen neighborhood... or west South Loop, depends on who is talking to me or who I am talking to. I would really like to gloat about this new place but, a. you would think less of me and b. I'd be more fun if you came to visit. Needless to say, it's like Kim explains, "Well, the apartment trumps the neighborhood" (or lack thereof). We have approximately 20 neighbors between the 5 buildings and 2 coach houses on our block. (This is supposing everyone is single, of course.) So, while we don't live in a neighborhood per se, we do have an auto body shop across the street, which aside from being convenient in the event of a fender-bender also provides our little "neighborhood" with Mafia history that, I believe, every true neighborhood needs. There are two coach houses. Can you say that about your street? A convenience store....Spanish is a must, however. And, easy convenience to two highways, one shopping district, one university campus, many uppity bars, and more Hispanic restaurants than anyone could want. (Or, is it Latino? In college Spanish we spent a day learning the politically correct term for such culture groups, but my merely satisfactory grade in these courses testifies to the fact some things never stuck.)

That's all for now on this topic. I'm sure with Kim, one of the "bestest" story-tellers ever, I'll have more fun and inspiration in the future. No pressure, Kim. If going gets slow, we'll start creating stories. :wink:

Flying - Confessions of a Free Woman

Last night had me at the Gene Siskell Film Center with Kelley (who lives in the city now!!!) getting in on the first part of a three part film series by Jennifer Fox. Her latest film project recently concluded. A project which spans nearly every continent, women ages 20-99, logged 1600 hours of footage, and took nearly 5 years.

In this film project, Jennifer Fox lays bare her own turbulent life to penetrate what it means to be a free woman today. Employing an ingenious new camera technique, called "passing the camera", Fox creates a documentary language that mirrors the special way women communicate. Over intimate conversations around kitchen tables from South Africa to Russia, India and Pakistan, she initiates a groundbreaking dialogue among women, illuminating universal concerns across race, class and nationality. Part delectable soap opera, sociopolitical inquiry, and narrative experiments, FLYING sweeps us up into an addictive international adventure chronicled with sincerity, innovation and elegance.

I encourage you to check out the trailer. http://flyingconfessions.com/about_trailer.php

The film plays this weekend (& Tuesday). A six-hour film, it is broken up into 6-one hour chapters, of which 2 hours are being shown at a time.

I guarantee you will walk away and want to discuss this modern day femininity with your girl friend. Kelley and I did!

I had one overarching feeling when I left the theatre though. That is, how thankful I am to my own parents for how they exemplified in every aspect of their life that marriage does not bring happiness, adventure, or personal pursuits to a grinding halt...that love & excitement are only just beginning when you find each other...and that one's exploration of themselves does not end when you get married and have children. So often women's upbringing determines how they think about and play the dating game. I'm thankful I got off on a empowering, positive footing. Their marriage and their mindset I'm realizing gives me an amazing amount of hope.

Resurrection - Nicol Sponberg

Featured Artist for this year's Sunshine Gospel Ministries' Benefit Dinner

Saturday, October 6th at 6:30 p.m.
Chicago Cultural Center - Prentice Hall Ballroom

Strip Tease at the Y

No, this entry is not going to be a silly or embarrassing story from inside the YMCA's women's locker room. Although...

Rather, this morning's excursion to my local YMCA, where I have a membership, resurrected in my mind a debate that took place at the end of this past winter. To understand this debate you must understand two dynamics.

1. This "Y", far above others that I know of, remembers well the "C" in its abbreviation. Bulletin boards support the local churches and post their latest news items. All Christian holidays are observed, while the same cannot be said about the other religious holidays. Headlines on the bulletin boards read "Praise the Lord" and "Hallelujah". Refreshing I must admit.

2. The "Y" offers free, one-hour classes in its upstairs gym beginning at 8 a.m. and carrying through, without a break, until 8 p.m. Gospel Aerobics, Therapeutic Aquatics, Tighten N' Tone Abs... The classroom is surrounded by large windows where passersby can stop and observe the workout. (Great P.R. move, I might add.)

This past winter a new class was introduced. "Introduction to Strip Tease" As you can imagine, quite the controversy arose despite the classes rapid (attendance) success. Some argued strip tease is a great thing in the context of marriage and that more classes should be held in this sexual regard, where women in the Church can feel comfortable exploring their sexuality. Others, begged to differ, stating that such an argument may have clout if there weren't windows around the perimeter of the classroom and if the class wasn't held during after-school hours. As it were, kids of any age, men and women of any age, could watch the class just as if it was "Gospel Aerobics". Covering the windows was, of course, a fire hazard.

For the first time in awhile, I did not form an immediate opinion. Or, rather, I would always play Devil's advocate with those who tried to impose their opinion on me.

I very much agree that there is a glut in the number of classes held for women - Christian women - where they can feel safe to explore their sexuality and even bump the bedroom excitement up a notch. And, I didn't feel the "C" in YMCA was jeopardized simply by the installment of such a class.

But, the fact that any man and any child could observe this class substantially changed the argument. And, I feel, does immediately jeopardizes the "safe" aspect of the course.

Needless to say, I just picked up the Fall schedule of courses at the "Y" and guess what class is not on the list?

If your local YMCA offered this course, what stance would you take?

To Be 10 Again

Friday night I entertained four little girls whose ages, if you averaged them, equalled ten. As predicted, Saturday morning came way too early and with way too much exhaustion. But, it was undoubtedly worth it.

Milkshakes, movie animation of some of American's great children's stories, girl chatter, and uncontrolled giggles, and sleeping on the floor brought me back to when I was 10. I remember the church ladies, unmarried at the time, who cooed over us, who made my friends and I milkshakes, sat up late, and got stern with us just when the fun was getting started. I now remember the pajamas that did not match, top and bottoms. The immense amount of time it took to go through the bedtime routine. How looking at these ladies brought up in my little adolescent mind all sorts of questions about growing older. What would I be like? Where would I work and live? I now remember life being a museum and everything open for touch. No questions were kosher and boys were the furthest thing from my mind.

And now...I live in Chicago. Same city as before. Life, unfortunately, has lost its marvelous museum affect. Boys are all too present in my mind (I'd trade anything to go back). I work for a non-profit telling my altruistic self each day that I am not on a solo effort to save the world, nor one soul, and instead doing "the Lord's work". I am the one cooing over kids now but still look up to those 20 years older than me with the same wonder and questions that I did when I was 10. My bedtime routine has shortened (thank God!) and so has my morning routine, in fact. I've dropped the acne but gained other horrid things. I've now been told there are certain kosher questions...

...yet I keep forgetting which ones they are.

Oh, it would be great to be 10 again... perhaps only for a day.

AhAhAhChooooo!

Weather.com says that my itchy eyes and frequent sneezes are due to my weed allergy. Uh, yeah! A friend of mine asked me this weekend, after I'd sneezed 5 times in row, what exactly in the air was I allergic to. Not knowing, I later went on a search. No, folks, it's not hayfever, trees, grass.. nope, its weeds! Great.

The Harder Way

"At first glance legalism seems hard, but actually freedom in Christ is the harder way. It is relatively easy not to murder, hard to reach out in love; easy to avoid a neighbor's bed, hard to keep a marriage alive; easy to pay taxes, hard to serve the poor. When living in freedom, I must remain open to the Spirit for guidance. I am more aware of what I have neglected than what I achieved. I cannot hide behind a mask of behavior, like the hypocrites, nor can I hide behind facile comparisons with the other Christians."

- Philip Yancey, "What is So Amazing About Grace?"

Spiders, Coffee Houses, & Lots of Ya Ya

What is with this Chicago rain! Heck, I don't remember a summer where we had 3 weeks of straight rain in August. Forecast predicts another 5 days of this. Where is my August!!! :pounds first on table: I hate winter and it lasts sooooooooo long. So!!! I demand that every day in the summer months must have sunlight. I stockpile sunlight like Joseph stockpiled grain for the Israelites 20-some centuries ago. Except I hit famine about December and he seemed to have thought farther ahead. Like 7 years ahead. And...

...to make matters worse, the moisture has brought an insurgency of spiders. That's right. Before I leave out my back door each morning for work I have to dig myself out with a broom. Fanning the air like some crazy lady. Wrapping the webs around the bristles (and up the handle). The more unfortunate scene, though, is when I come home. The spiders have worked just as hard as I during the day, yet this time I don't have a broom around.

Yesterday morning, I woke up to a spider bite on my wrist and a black, fury, quarter-size buster on my toilet seat. (When he walked he became even bigger!) Goooooood Morning!

******
I had one of those random weekends. Ended up driving the up the lake shore on Saturday night with Josh and his friends because we couldn't think of anything cheap and casual to do.

(And to field any suspicion from those friends in other States who will view this & read this & suddenly call me for an "update" on my life....I know you want the "juice". There is none. But, still do call.)

We made it from my apt on the south side to the Baha'i Temple in Evanston.

And Sunday I ended up at the coffee shop, where I hoped to get some reading in with anonymous people chatter keeping me company.

******

Today I drove out to our printing company in Lisle and while I was waiting for my order to complete, I browsed through the recent invitation orders the company had been filling. Most of the invitations were wedding invites to take place on farms in Wisconsin (huh?!), but there was one in particular that caught my attention. It was for a "Celebration of Friendship". What? I asked Kelley, my printing lady (she's 25, but she can still be called "my printing lady" cuz...that's what she is) what a celebration of friendship exactly is. She didn't know. She just prints these things, you know, no questions asked. Maybe you know what a "Celebration of Friendship" is. Sounds a little ya ya sister-ish, sit on the floor, cross our legs, prick our fingers, and pledge to never leave each other-ish.

Uh, Yeah, We're Kind of a Big Deal

Dad and I take a spin around Steamboat with the new wheels.

Back from the Wild Blue Yonder...

...where I did fly high.

Back from (almost) a week's vacation in Colorado. Nothing like family, blue skies, mountains, and old friends to bring perspective into life. I was admittedly a bit sluggish today at work. The 1:15 a.m. flight arrival may have had something to do with it. Not wanting to be back to the riggers of work may also have had something to do with it. In any regards, it's like my Mom said today, "I've decided, Lauren, that if we can't simply enjoy the priviledge of going away and come back happy, then we shouldn't have been allowed to go in the first place." I suppose she's right (like she often is).

(Don't mistake the look of rest in my eyes as fatigue. It's the look of tranquility found after many hours in the sun.)

Maybe it's because I'm not that long out of school (okay, it's going on two years) but my new year is still every August. The plane rides, long afternoons by the pool or lake, and the strolls through nature gave me ample opportunity to look back on my year. And without getting into the details of it (God knows my friends would kill me for rehashing again the year's emotional rollercoaster) I have to simply concur with my friend, Anna, who remarked as she sent me off with a hug, "Let's hope that when we meet again it will have been a happier year". Amen! This can be said for the both of us.

This year has had had its mountain-top (ha!) highs and its lowest of lowest vallies. I need the Lord to give me (and her too) a break. No drama for 12 months, please! Although I've determined that wish will only come true if I work retail, stayed away from all boys (I'm positive they'd say the same about me), lived back at home, and crocheted behind the TV during off-hours, whereby the action of TV stars would become my drama. But...where's the fun in that?!? I suppose, then, this year will have it's fair share of drama. Nonetheless, there are degrees to these things.

In other news...I don't like my hair in these pictures. I think Anna's right. I might need to grow my hair out again. UUUuuuhhhhhh, the process! It's takes soooo many months. :sigh: The price of beauty.

Just Can't Handle All the Fun that Can Be Had in the Windy City

There are few things more fun in life than having friends come to town for a visit. Side-splitting laughter, fine food, the excuse to do new, wild things in the city, and the chance to pull away from work and deeply connect with another gal. It is something to be cherished. In Chicago, like in many cities, there are so many people yet a seeming increase in isolation. So, the opportunity for laughter bumped right next to deep conversation - the kind that has one crying in no time - is a rarity worth savoring.

Cheers to the friends who have come to Chicago for a visit this summer and have me one "happy camper!"

Nostalgia

Girls, (you know who you are)
I was thinking about you last night and all the good times we spent together on good, slippery roads, singing this song at the top of our lungs, and waiting for the day we would be kissed. A lot has happened since those days (like getting that first kiss...or heck, getting married!) but some things never change - I will always travel slippery roads with you again. Love, Me.


Kiss me out of the bearded barley, Nightly, beside the green, green grass, swing, swing, swing the spinning step. You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress...We'll take the trail marked on your father's map.

So Many Things!!!!

As I am sure you other bloggers have experienced, when you stepped away from postings for any length of time, returning becomes harder and harder, and the number of possible topics to write on just increases to overwhelming volumes. This is exactly what has happened with me in the 9 days I've been away from my blog. I'm bucking this massive obligation or expectation that I put on myself to say something profound or funny or informative upon my return. So, instead, a recap of the number of items I could talk about in greater detail, but am deciding to cut short.

* Peter and J are my new favorite band, ever since I heard them play on NPR on Wednesday morning. They are coming to the Elbo Room this Saturday night. Guess who will be there?...Correct. You. You will be there.

* One of the special perks of being in ministry work is that when the youth are given a Bible lesson whether it's by a fellow staff member or guest speaker, I too get the pleasure of hearing free, spontaneous teaching on God's word. None of this send in your $5 for a CD of the sermon bit. I get preached to almost daily and yet, I'm surprised by it and inspired by it so often.

* I love basketball. Watching basketball. Yes, and I'd forgotten how large this love of mine is until last night when I watched Dave coach our Sunshine Warriors team. They kicked butt by the way, and by the time the second quarter came around, they were playing a tighter and tighter game. Here's a snapshot. No offense to any mother out there, but I, personally, have a fear that I'll be a "soccer Mom" someday. I have some time though to decide if I want to embrace or reject this notion or alter this possible this image.

* You should read Lauren Winner's "Muddhouse Sabbath" if you ever thought the idea of resting on the Sabbath was too idealist, boring, merely about rigorous discipline. Although she's converted to Protestantism, Winner looks back on Shabbat-keeping with longing and true insight.

* I love summer! And this late fall, when I think I'll kill myself living along in dreary city, I'll be moving into a new apartment with a great friend, who will commiserate with me...and a whole lot more.

* Did I mention I love the summer?

The 4th!

Old-time college friends reunite at Chicago's Caribbean Festival of Life in Bronzeville.

It's been 2.5 years since my friend, Shiko, and I have seen each other. Now back in the same city, we're livin' it up the right way in Chicago.

With what appeared to be representatives from all the African countries (ok, a slight exaggeration. but, we at least had Kenya, Ghana, Rwanda, and South Africa present) we got an escort in the back of a white van (with the windows painted white as well) to the Globe for some soccer. When we pulled up and emptied out, the look on bystanders faces was priceless.

The guys on the other side of the van didn't look like they were in a picture taking mood. Instead, with great savyness, offered to take our pictures.

He Will Always Take Me (You) Back

The reason why I stand

The answer lies in you

You hung to make me strong

Though my praise was few

When I fall I bring your name down

But I have found in you

A heart that bleeds forgiveness

replacing all these thoughts of painful memories

But I know that your response will always be

"I'll take your back always,

Even when your fight is over."

You satisfy this cry

Of what I am looking for

And I'll take all I can

And lay it down before

The throne of endless graces that now radiates what's true

I'm in the only place that

erases all these faults

That have overtaken me

But I know that your response will always be

"I'll take you back...always.

Even when your fight is over."

- Jeremy Camp

The Reason I Own A TV

This may come as a surprise coming from a young 20-something who majored in film, radio, and tv, but I have thought (sometimes more serious than others) about getting rid of my tv. And if you were that fly on my way, it would be even more surprising, since then you could contend that I do, in fact, have my tv on at least 2 hours each day. (Now whether I am concertedly watching the tv is another matter.) However, there is, in fact, only a small percentage of television shows out there worth watching or even worth previewing. For all the money I spend each month on cable television, I've wondered if purchasing season dvds after their release would be more cost effective or even time-effective. Who knows?

But then, there are those shows very much worth watching, which won't later come out on dvd, that turn my tables towards keeping my tv. Oxygen's latest series called "Who Cares About Girls?" was one of those segments. (Thank God, really, for any special that can refrain, for one hour, from showing commercials.) The shows and special features can be found on the Oxygen website.

Lisa Ling (gotta love this 33 year-old gem of a journalist) carries viewers threw a series of stories about young women in various parts of the world whose vulnerability is being taken advantage of. National Geographic went on tour with Ling in putting together these documentaries. I highly recommend that you take some time out to listen to these girls' stories by visiting the website, and also learn more about how you can help in the intervention to give these girls back their childhood.

Bang, Hmmm, Awww!!!

How many cops does it take to clean up a bike accident in Chicago? The answer: 10! Too many. I knew, at some point, I was going to witness someone get hit walking or on a bike, what with the way people in the city think they are invisible and that cars will stop for them. One teenage boy and his girlfriend, learned that lesson the hard way today on my corner. Everyone was fiiiiiine. Don't worry. I asked one fellow bystander, "was the kid conscious?" He said, "Oh yeah. Look at his bike, man. He milken' it. That's all. Milken' it." :shrug: His bike was still standing up, not a scratch. Now kids, look both ways before crossing the street, even if you are on your bike (especially if you are on your bike!) and even when you have your girlfriend standing on the back. She can't save you against a car flying at 40 miles as hour.

But, the more appauling thing was the police. They were coming out of the woodwork. Actually, no. There are tons of police in my neighborhood. But, there still were far too many. Pretty soon the University of Chicago police were showing up. Come one, now! The university is like 2 miles away. I knnooooww they didn't call you. Keep the coffee break at Dunkin.

...oh, I should mention. Because all things in Chicago are fair, who got slapped with the ticket? That's right. The driver, even though he had a bright green light, he got slapped. Pedestrians always have the right of way.

***
In other news, my trainer from the "Y" stopped me today on the street as I was taking a walk. (I say "my trainer", but I think I had all of maybe 3, no 2, no 1 session with him this winter.) He asked me if I still worked out there. And when I looked at him blankly and replied, "why? are you still there?" He replied, "No, um, I started my own business" and hands me his card.

Exhibit A:

Anyways...
***
Last time I lived in the city, I don't remember there being so many cats. They are everywhere! They pop out at you when you are coming home at 2 a.m. You're aleady spooked and then, this thing comes flying out at you hissing. Cats pop out of the dumpster when you open the lid to put your trash in. They whine at your door. Jump from the trees onto your back rail right as you walk by. Can you tell I've never been a cat lover?

Well, one of the local cats has taken up shop outside my door of the last couple days. She, I think, I don't know. She looks like a she...is sick and truly, is dying. There is no question. Trust me. She's got attitude, though. However, sick she may be, she will look straight into my eyes with her dagger green eyes (I've always wanted green eyes, and now maybe it's because she is sick, but I am recanting my previous desire. These eyes are scary.) and hiss louder than I thought possible and then screech this whine that is a far cry (ha!) from the I-want-a-pet cry.

Nonetheless (and now maybe this says more about me than the cat), I am endeared by her. She has character and 'tude that's for sure. And I "feel her". If I was that sick, I would want to be pet, but I would be a b**tch to be around. And because I know that's me, I sometimes wonder if I am supposed to push past the angered facade and like...feed her some warm milk. (That's what you suppose to feed them, isn't it?) The person that would push through my crankiness would win my heart and they would end up being the only one I wasn't bitchy too. Do you think cat pyschology is similar to human pyschology? I've already thought through this too much. Nevermind.

...And There Goes Another One!

If you are going to "loose" a friend to marriage, there is nothing

better than loosing them to a great man!

Rachel, glad you finally came to your senses that this man is a keeper. And, I think that I can speak for a few of us 2E girls, "we told you so."

Matt, if you ever...that's right. We will unite! :-) No really, I'm so pleased Rach has a man no one has to worry won't treat her right. You're so good to her and for her.

I look forward to a FABULOUS wedding next summer!

This one promises to be a memorable one.

...Like I Was Saying

So, now I wish I had blogged over the weekend when I was at the pageant. My eyes were opened to a whole new culture I knew existed, but never thought I'd have the opportunity to step into. Now, that I am a few days removed from the event...I am even more overwhelmed with trying to explain all the fanfare.

So, let's just say for me...it was a bizarre event. What I walked away cherishing most was the time spent with a great friend who "gets me" and totally "sees" me, who I don't have to explain myself to, and who I can be myself around. As well as, being around a family who, like the rest of us, gets along some of the time, but whose actions of tireless shopping, cheering on, and waiting around for their sister, shows how very present they are for each other.






The family Here she comes!







She was a winner to us! Don't let Heather fool you for a minute -
she IS in a relationship. (Val :wink:)

Likely The Closest I'll Get

This weekend I went on the Hass Family Vacation (my second family of which I have a few). I'm telling you, few of us having family vacations as crazy and fun-filled as they do...

Quick background: Heather and I went to college together where we became fast friends, not only living together but, throughout the years, traveling together. Inevitably, I met Heather's family and a mutual adoption took place, whereby they treated me like their fourth daughter and I now treat them like sisters, aunt and uncle. So, when the family made their trek to Muskegon to support Linaya, Heather's younger sister by only a couple years, in her run for Ms. Michigan, they remembered to bring a big troupe of supporters. I didn't get left behind...nor would I have let that happen.

In a later e-mail, when I get more pictures, I will spend time describing the crazy affair of beauty pagents and all that I learned and experienced. But, for the meantime, a foreshadowing...

I couldn't have been prouder of Linaya if she had been my "real" sister. This girl (correction: woman) is, if I could crudely say, "the shit"; this gal has so much going for her and she deserved every award that night. Her involvement with the Michigan crown, allowed me the opportunity to get closer than I probably ever will with the red carpet.

Thank you Linaya and the whole Hass family for a great weekend!


The contestants showcase their evening wear.

Hass sisters come out to support their sister. These passes got

us behind the scenes with our celebrity all weekend.

Here she comes...down the red carpet. Her executive director by her side.

Strange

Every day has its oddities, but some days seem to have more than others.

Today on my lunch break, I strolled into Hyde Park to shop at a few of the ethnic boutiques in hopes of finding a small gift for a friend's birthday. I had heard about this place, What The Traveler Saw, and while the reviews I'd been given gave it 5 stars, I was more impressed with the cleverness of the shop's name than with the items inside the shop. The goods were scant, half were lubricant gels and kama sutra books and the other half were elegant, yet highly overpriced jewelry. (Although, on second thought, this store may be a perfect find for men. Purchasing the later may get you the former.) Needless to say, I left disappointed.

Heading to my car, I spotted an African shop. I possibly should have thought twice when I got to the door and read the sign. "Knock first". I knocked...waited...and then, tried the door. Locked. Seconds later a short, rather stuppy African women leisurely makes her way to the door. Unlocks it with a "Good afternoon". Lets me in and locks it behind me. Hmmm...The store is filled floor to ceiling with assorted, un-priced goods from places across Africa, Jamaica, African-Americana. A few moments after my arrival, this shopkeeper, dressed from head to toe in traditional African garb, begins lighting incense across the store...at every level. Some places at my feet, others at shoulder level, just above the cash register (you would have thought the register was on fire had you not known better). And when the lighting of the incense sticks was complete she turns on, to full volume, one of the afamed civil rights speech of Dr. King. About every 30 seconds, she mutters in affirmation, "Yes!"

The shop items ranged in their condition. Some were still in there plastic package, same as they came from across the ocean. While still others, with scratches or missing pieces, looked like they had been rescued from the garbage or bought with pocket change at a garage sale. When I inquired about pricing, I always recieved an interesting answer, "Ah, yes, normally $20, but for you, today, I give it for $16." Or for the knock-off Coach purse, "Ah, yes, $65, but for you today, I give it for $55. You know, I paid $165 for it." She, then, looks to me for assurance that she is telling the truth. Of course, I don't buy it (literally or figuratively), but at her insistent glare tell her I believe her.

In the end, at the counter, ready to purchase my few goods, I notice two things simultaneously. One is a big, black circular pin on her chest which reads, "We need a miracle today, Jesus!" written in white lettering. And the second, is the unlikelihood of a credit machine, along with signs stating she does not take checks. I ask, "You only accept cash?" She replies, "Ah yes, my credit machine is to arrive tomorrow." The cynic in me wonders how many days "tomorrow" has been the answer. But, rather, agree to come back later with cash.

She ushers me out of the door with a "Good Day"and locks the door behind me.

Early this evening, I walked about a mile to one of the great coffee shops in Bronzeville, aptly named the Bronzeville Coffee Shop. I walked there because I'd been told by the shop owner this winter that they have a great deck in the back, which they'd open when the weather got nice. I packed my bags with books and headed out.

Sure enough, they had a back deck. It was a far cry from shabby. The deck was freshly built, you could almost smell the new wood. A fountain trickled off to the left. New furniture and umbrellas covered the remaining space. I snuggled in for a couple hours with my books, espresso shake, and cell phone (for good keeping). Admittedly, I listened in to the various business dealings taking shape around me. (My family has always questioned whether or not I've missed my true calling as a detective, for I can eavesdrop with the best of them.)

The stange part, however, came as I was leaving the shop. I walked in the main shop area. Dropped the chair pillow on the couch I'd found it on. Just then, a large, clean-shaven black man (okay, I was the only white person in the place [and a woman at that!], but don't stare too much!) grabs my hand and says, "Yes, I will wash your feet. Please let me." Thinking I'd missed the joke, I asked "Excuse me? I'm confused." I looked to barista, but he was only smiling and looking on. "Yes, I will wash your feet. Let me. And tell you that you are single." I did that girly, embarrassed laugh. And he looks at his barista friend as says, "She doesn't think it's funny. She probably does have a boyfriend. I should go now." He walks away. The barista rolls his eyes and clearly is trying to think of a comment to explain or patch up his friend's action, but instead fumbles and watches me leaves too.

Strange.

I then get a phone call from a friend asking me to come out dancing tonight because another friend of ours has a horoscope reading stating that she is going to meet "the one" tonight on the dance floor. I suggest drinks or a lower-key night at a comedy club. But, he insists that the horoscope said the meeting would happen on the dance floor and that we must be there to watch it all unfold.

The dance floor it is, then.

Awkward

Deciding what thing to write in a blog entry is always a bit difficult, awkward endeavor. Personally, I do this weird swing between gloating and/or informing the whole world wide web community about my schedule and habits (as if they/you care) ...and coming across as hyper-spiritual. Neither, of course, is how I'd like to be perceived. Mysterious, on the one hand, is how I'd rather be perceived and humble, in my task to grasps the love and lessons of the Lord, is the other. At the end of a long day, an intellectual, controversial, or a profoundly insightful entry is far from appealing to embark upon.

So, today I swing to left (or is it right?) and am going to add an entry from one of my favorite books, which incidentally I have "finished" but keep picking up and re-reading. It is "Hinds Feet on High Places" and I think I quoted it just like five entries ago. It's that good. :wink:

"I think I have come to understand the lesson which the Lord brought me back to Switzerland [Bronzeville] to learn in a special way. It concerns the great readjustment which I hope and believe is being made in me as he helps me to understand at last the reason why we are born into this fallen world and are entrusted with earthly mortal life. It is that we may learn, in a way which perhaps we could not do in heaven, how to abandon ourselves to loving God, who imagines and creates only the highest possible goodness.

In heaven everyone and everything is lovable, but as the Lord Jesus said, 'If ye love them which love you, what reward have ye?' (Matt. 5:46). In heaven everyone loves everyone else, and in hell no one loves anyone. But on earth we are in the perfect environment for learning how to love as God loves: to abandon ourselves to loving the apparently unlovely people who remind us that in many ways we are still very unlovely ourselves!"

A humble Amen.

Through the eyes of a child

My supervisor and I had put the idea of a summer community open house on the table months ago. Well, the idea was made tangible this weekend. My organization threw this community open house as a way to debut our newly renovated facility, officially explain to our neighborhood what we actually seek to accomplish, and to host our summer camp sign up. Although the day's expenses were graciously underwritten, a last minute change of plans meant I, personally, had 24 hours to prepare food for 250 people. Quickly assessing this was too large of a task to handle alone, I called my friend, Stephanie, with a politely worded S.O.S. request. And because she truly is a comrade, she dropped her day's plans to help me shop, make many decisions, cut and wash food, and so forth. Steph, thanks in large part to you, the food looked great.

Somewhere in the craziness of the morning, I managed to remember that we needed pictures. (Fortunately, several others remembered too. It seems, with our events, we either have no pictures or tons of pictures. Hmmm.) Overwhelmed that yet another task got added to my list of things to do, I handed off my camera to a 14 year old girl, who had just come in to sign up for camp and didn't seem to be leaving anytime soon. I gave her license to take whatever pictures she wanted. When I finally asked for my camera back, she sheepishly replied, "Oh, um, make sure to erase the last one. It's the worst one I took. "

Exhibit A:

I exclaimed that surely I would not.

Needless to say, handing off my camera was a wise decision and I have many candid pictures of the day.

keep a look out

Before it even occurred, many warned me I would have a love-hate relationship with living alone. And while, I still hold the very same position I did months ago, which is that I would (will) be "just fine" and that there were (are) signs my solo-living is a season ordained by Him, others positions have, admittedly, gained clout. Previous to learning I'd have a roommate come October/November, the love-hate relationship manifested only its hateful side. However, with a "light" at the end of the tunnel, the last few weeks have envoked those love feelings.

That said, I still find myself hating living alone now and again, and the again happens unexpectedly. Like, this morning. I can't say why, because I do not know. But, this morning I loathed the fact that I live alone. While I can reprimand myself with some kind of holy anger over being ungrateful and unthankful for my many blessings - including a thriving social life - there are times when the self-reprimanding is just silly, because I don't really believe myself. So, despite the fact I had a busy day of meetings and errands, I spent the moments when I was (in loneliness) brushing my teeth or (in loneliness) unloading my groceries, trying to find somebody, anybody to blame for my situation.

And when I couldn't find anyone to blame, I chose to dwell on the unnaturalness, the "wrongness", of living alone, lamenting that no one on this earth should have to experience it (except, of course, if they see things contrary to myself). Thoughts like, "Lord, this would be a good time, if any, to bring that 'Adam' into my life. I do have the time now," kept coming to mind. Then, came the mental male bashing. (Which every male should know is really a desperate cry for attention.)

Fast-forward...a little food, a good conversation, and a nap later, I have forgotten about my morning lament. It's amazing how quickly these things happen. I made a late-night grocery run to my new, favoriate hispanic market. With my cart loaded high with a month's worth of groceries and supplies for work, I push my way out of the store. Arrive at my car and pop the trunk, when I hear an accented, older male voice calling out to me, "my lady, my lady." I do the first thing every women does when she hears this, thinks it must be a call for another lady in the parking lot. I turned to look and found this short, older, hispanic, grandfather-type running across the lot toward me. My grocery bagger! with flowers in his arms. Big lillies. At my car and out of breath, he says, "My lady, these are for you" and extends out lillies for my taking.

Someone out there knows and sees, bringing us surprising gifts at our places of greatest, felt need just when we are apt to think we are all alone.

All Things Summer....

I know it's only mid-weekend, but since I am perpetually challenged to live in the present and not the past or future, this is a particularly apt time for me to write about my weekend. This weekend is (exactly) all things summer - summer in Chicago, that is. Wedding, Beach, Reading, Sun (mixed with rain), Party, Church, Brunch, Friends, Random Drives. This list has been (or will be) my weekend and likely repeat itself for the next 3 months. I wish it could repeat itself all year, but I suppose that might be asking a bit much.

Add in, of course, visits from friends (this is one of the great reasons I love living in a metropolitan center). While people may simply be coming to experience the rush of bustling city life, they play it off well that they are coming to see me. Beggars can't be choosers. And what you don't know can't hurt you. So, I choose to remain oblivious to the degree to which their visit is about me or about a Chicago vacation. In the meantime, as I await their arrival, the romantic in me loves skeming grand, low-cost adventures I can unravel once they arrive.

And, yes, the summer wouldn't be complete without the scheduled vacations thrown in the mix. I will, of course, regret spending the money on these vacation flights in 6 months when the dreariness of Chicago winter is back and I want nothing more than to have money - money to spend on an escape. But, that's 6 months from now, and I prefer to carry out a more Epicurean lifestyle.

I hope you too are livin' it up this summer.

Don't Even Get Me Started

If I was only allowed to express anger or frustration over one thing for the rest of my life, it would be over this:

Networks of Sex Trade (hyperlink)

Trust me, you don't want to see me this angry. So instead...

[silence]

sometimes anger leaves one speechless

Phone Camera

Friday Night Lights...