I generally consider myself to be a happy person. However, I have had many obstacles to face and overcome this week. God doesn't place things in front of us that we are unable to handle. I face great challenges because I have the strength to do so. I have the strength to give them back to God.
This week I felt like I was at the end of my rope. Friendships went sour, work was a disaster and I've had to pull myself away from people and situations that were not healthy for me.
I did it! Through God and friends that came through for me at just the right time, I have returned to the James that I am supposed to be. Sorry for the blog, but I feel so liberated!
Thank-you to my Lord and Savior who already knew I would write this. Thank-you to my church group who really reached out to me tonight and will never read this. Thank-you to those special friends, though few and far between, who never give up on me.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
One Art.
Though a beautiful turn of phrase, I'm afraid it's not my own. I heard this poem today and it really spoke to me. Enjoy.
One Art.
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
-Elizabeth Bishop
One Art.
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
-Elizabeth Bishop
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
I don't understand, but I do.
I am actually way too busy to be messing around on the computer, let alone write a blog. However, this seems to be my new hobby of late... Let me quickly fill you in on my day:
Work
Errands
Bills
Grocery shopping
Peugeot (if this guy doesn't buy it, I'm setting it on fire)
Run-around on getting Luke tonight
Appointment with my tattoo artist (I only have Luke until 8).
More work
I'm not complaining, I'm just pointing out how ironic it is that I continue to write this.
Now, the story. I've been working all week on a friend's PC. Why? Because I'm a nerd. What of it? To protect the identity of said friend, we'll call them Pat. Yeah - nice unisex name, huh?
Pat has frequently visited to check on my progress. However, it seems to be an excuse to leave the house. Pat, who never really wants to do anything, has wanted to hang out a lot more lately. Pat's spouse has apparently been a little needy lately (according to Pat). It's also why Pat and I never end up hanging out. Good thing for Pat that I have a lot of time on my hands (except today - we covered this).
It then occurred to me that I would love to have what Pat has. It's not envy, but I would love to come home to a caring spouse! Don't get me wrong - being single isn't awful, but yes, sometimes I get lonely. It's not in the sense that I have to be with someone, but I do miss having a best friend with whom to share things. I miss talking about my day, I miss having someone think about me, I miss sharing a bed with someone, etc. I wish someone needed me from time to time. By the way, there is a difference between being a little needed and being totally abused.
I know I take this a little far by using the word, "spouse." "Significant other" would also be appropriate. I would like to lie awake each night - taking just a little longer to fall asleep because someone special was on my mind (okay, it happens now, but that's another blog); And at the same time know she fell asleep just a little easier because she knew I adored her.
My point? Be thankful, Pat! Marriage is compromise. Both parties have to conceed to the truth that it DOES takes work. However, the notion of spending the rest of your life with your best friend is absolutely beautiful!
I guess I'm glad I get to vicariously learn these lessons so I don't mess things up when I finally get my chance. Just thought I'd share...
Work
Errands
Bills
Grocery shopping
Peugeot (if this guy doesn't buy it, I'm setting it on fire)
Run-around on getting Luke tonight
Appointment with my tattoo artist (I only have Luke until 8).
More work
I'm not complaining, I'm just pointing out how ironic it is that I continue to write this.
Now, the story. I've been working all week on a friend's PC. Why? Because I'm a nerd. What of it? To protect the identity of said friend, we'll call them Pat. Yeah - nice unisex name, huh?
Pat has frequently visited to check on my progress. However, it seems to be an excuse to leave the house. Pat, who never really wants to do anything, has wanted to hang out a lot more lately. Pat's spouse has apparently been a little needy lately (according to Pat). It's also why Pat and I never end up hanging out. Good thing for Pat that I have a lot of time on my hands (except today - we covered this).
It then occurred to me that I would love to have what Pat has. It's not envy, but I would love to come home to a caring spouse! Don't get me wrong - being single isn't awful, but yes, sometimes I get lonely. It's not in the sense that I have to be with someone, but I do miss having a best friend with whom to share things. I miss talking about my day, I miss having someone think about me, I miss sharing a bed with someone, etc. I wish someone needed me from time to time. By the way, there is a difference between being a little needed and being totally abused.
I know I take this a little far by using the word, "spouse." "Significant other" would also be appropriate. I would like to lie awake each night - taking just a little longer to fall asleep because someone special was on my mind (okay, it happens now, but that's another blog); And at the same time know she fell asleep just a little easier because she knew I adored her.
My point? Be thankful, Pat! Marriage is compromise. Both parties have to conceed to the truth that it DOES takes work. However, the notion of spending the rest of your life with your best friend is absolutely beautiful!
I guess I'm glad I get to vicariously learn these lessons so I don't mess things up when I finally get my chance. Just thought I'd share...
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Renoir, Jimi Hendrix, loose ends, poetry and fatigue...
This blog has been a long time coming. A lot of it has been building up in my head and heart for the last 24 hours or so - or maybe it was some final straw to force me to do something about it. This also serves as an outlet to get some things off of my chest without directly putting a burden on my friends. After all, you don't HAVE to read this.
Renoir - Luncheon of the Boating Party
Look at it closely. It's a perfect personification of my life. It always has been. Are Renoir and myself the only two people that have walked this earth who feel this way? I'm reminded everyday of how different I really am. This painting hangs in my living room. It doesn't depress me, so it's not bad Feng Shui or self-destructive. In a weird way, it comforts me. It makes me feel understood.
Jimi Hendrix.
When I was younger (pre-college), I used to listen to a lot of Jimi Hendrix. Recently, a couple of artists have covered one of my favorite songs, Bold as Love. Life has definitely happened since the last time I listened to it and I have a new-found appreciation for the lyrics. I think my obsessive-compulsive nature has caused me to overplay the song (by most standards). However, for some reason, it's really hitting home this week.
Loose ends.
A few months ago, I saw a friend that I hadn't seen in a while. Circumstances (actually, another person) that particular evening really made our reunion unpleasant and ackward. Though out of my control, I felt really bad about the situation that dampered the evening. I ran into her this past weekend. We both apologized (though neither of us were at fault) and cleared the air. It's funny how things resolve themselves when the time is right. It shouldn't have happened any sooner. I had to let go of some other feelings before I was ready to hear what she had to say.
Poetry.
Although I am the worst poet to ever roam this earth, I like to convey my thoughts and feelings in a more artistic form. I guess it makes me feel more intelligent due to my normal, everyday lack of eloquence. Actually, to even use the word, "poet" for what I write is injustice to its existence. Last month, I came across a poem that I had written a LONG time ago. It's not addressed to anyone in particular. Okay, it is - but I have no idea who that person is. I've recently started to add to it - I don't know if it's inspiration or boredom. Someday I will be able to finish it. And someday (if the day ever comes) I will get to read it aloud and share it. Why does it make this blog? I guess because of how much it means to me and the sheer anxiety and suspense that is included with keeping it the only secret that I have.
Fatigue.
I need a vacation. Until I am able to relax, I have a feeling that the intoxicating effects of working like crazy are going to manifest themselves in blogs like this.
Renoir - Luncheon of the Boating Party
Look at it closely. It's a perfect personification of my life. It always has been. Are Renoir and myself the only two people that have walked this earth who feel this way? I'm reminded everyday of how different I really am. This painting hangs in my living room. It doesn't depress me, so it's not bad Feng Shui or self-destructive. In a weird way, it comforts me. It makes me feel understood.
Jimi Hendrix.
When I was younger (pre-college), I used to listen to a lot of Jimi Hendrix. Recently, a couple of artists have covered one of my favorite songs, Bold as Love. Life has definitely happened since the last time I listened to it and I have a new-found appreciation for the lyrics. I think my obsessive-compulsive nature has caused me to overplay the song (by most standards). However, for some reason, it's really hitting home this week.
Loose ends.
A few months ago, I saw a friend that I hadn't seen in a while. Circumstances (actually, another person) that particular evening really made our reunion unpleasant and ackward. Though out of my control, I felt really bad about the situation that dampered the evening. I ran into her this past weekend. We both apologized (though neither of us were at fault) and cleared the air. It's funny how things resolve themselves when the time is right. It shouldn't have happened any sooner. I had to let go of some other feelings before I was ready to hear what she had to say.
Poetry.
Although I am the worst poet to ever roam this earth, I like to convey my thoughts and feelings in a more artistic form. I guess it makes me feel more intelligent due to my normal, everyday lack of eloquence. Actually, to even use the word, "poet" for what I write is injustice to its existence. Last month, I came across a poem that I had written a LONG time ago. It's not addressed to anyone in particular. Okay, it is - but I have no idea who that person is. I've recently started to add to it - I don't know if it's inspiration or boredom. Someday I will be able to finish it. And someday (if the day ever comes) I will get to read it aloud and share it. Why does it make this blog? I guess because of how much it means to me and the sheer anxiety and suspense that is included with keeping it the only secret that I have.
Fatigue.
I need a vacation. Until I am able to relax, I have a feeling that the intoxicating effects of working like crazy are going to manifest themselves in blogs like this.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Untitled 1.
I try so hard to find your color
Lost in a rainbow abyss.
My favorite shade of red gets covered
Only by a sense of bliss.
What left then, when all to lose?
And furthermore, all to gain?
Waiting for God's will to choose
A painless form of pain.
Boldness has never been so shy
Though windows have been opened.
The classic battle of asking why -
Hopeless hope for hoping.
Lost in a rainbow abyss.
My favorite shade of red gets covered
Only by a sense of bliss.
What left then, when all to lose?
And furthermore, all to gain?
Waiting for God's will to choose
A painless form of pain.
Boldness has never been so shy
Though windows have been opened.
The classic battle of asking why -
Hopeless hope for hoping.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
For those of you who don't believe me...
A couple of people have called me and asked what I was doing this evening. I told them I was helping my friend build a toy-barn for his son (so he has a place for his menagerie). For some reason, some of you didn't believe me. I guess my quasi-defensive nature has forced me to provide proof. Besides, I always enjoy the opportunity for a pointless blog.
1/4" birch press-board - $8
Wood glue that's been sitting in the garage for 2 years - $2.59
PowerShot electric staple / nail gun that ended up to be defective when it was brought home - $19.99
Craftsman manual staple gun and staples - $16.99
Dremel - $39.99
6 pk. of Bud Light - $4.29
Band-Aids - $2.98
Trip to the emergency room - $350
Blood spilled - 4oz.
Labor - 3 hours x 2 idiots = 6 hours
Making a toy for great kid that you could have easily purchased for $20 in the matter of minutes but decided to venture the road less travelled - PRICELESS.
There are some things money can't buy. For everything else there's Mastercard. For anything not mentioned earlier, there's always 2 water-heads that sometimes wonder how they became such great friends and happen to live 100ft. away from each other - causing them to create more mischief than is socially acceptable.
P.S. - No idiots were harmed in the making of this barn.
Friday, June 1, 2007
It's ALIVE!
Woohoo!
At approximately 6:40pm on this day of our Lord;
The First Day of June in the Year Two Thousand and Seven
The 1991 WaveJammer 500G came to life. I can't wait to get it wet! I am a GEN-IUS! That's for all of you "Grandma's Boy" fans...
This one's for you, Uncle Larry!
-J
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