I go through a lot of food phases, but try to keep them "basic"...or my version of "healthy". I use quote marks because I'm really bad at watching sodium, colesterol (I can't even spell it right...so based on spellcheck it's 'cholesterol'...der), and sugar. So I'm trying to up the...well, I should say, I need to up the vegetables...anyway, I got on this topic because a friend was talking last night about it, so I thought it would be good to make a list of basic foods I like. Over the years, I've tried to "train" myself to like healthier foods, especially ones that I can eat a lot of.
So, my list of staple foods:
1. Oatmeal with raisins and cinnamon (and blueberries or strawberries if the season calls for it)
2. Scrambled egg whites with frozen vegetables (don't eat with the vegetables still frozen). If you cook the vegetables with the egg whites, I don't think the vitamins cook out. Not sure about that, though. And hard-boiled eggs are good, too.
3. Freaking organic burritos. That's not the real label, don't worry. They're the Amy's brand and DELICIOUS with good fiber.
4. My newest food phase: yogurt with Grapenut cereal and raisins mixed in...I hate Grapenuts plain, but like this it's pretty good.
5. Fiber One cereal
6. My version of PB sandwich: Sandwich Slim bread with just a little PB and this fibery fruit jam...super tasty.
7. Frozen blueberries...or "tiny, happiness popsicles".
Other than that, fruit in general is great...especially since I suck at watching sugar-intake. Bleh. And with all that said, I'm caving a lot more since I'm back at Flat Top...but how can you say no to a Triple Chocolate Storm when it's free and placed in the server's station, beckoning you with it's dark, chocolatey eyes to partake in its abyss of tastiness?
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Monday, June 25, 2012
Sleeping
I swear, I could take a five hour nap every day and still sleep over eight hours at night...as in, I would still think I NEED eight hours at night. Ryan was taking a nap yesterday (which he actually needed) and I was all adult-like..."No, I don't need it, I should do stuff..." but then he says, "I think you should take one with me" and next thing I know I'm asleep for three hours. He offers a hard bargain.
So, after that nap yesterday, I still don't get up in time to ride my bike to work. Well, if I left five minutes after I woke up, I would've, but that's just crazy. When else would I finish my daily crossword? Let's not go crazy here.
Speaking of sleeping, I have the weirdest dreams. Just had one last night (very elaborate one, too) that I won't go too much into detail, but basically a guy I used to know had died because he and his friends dangled their cars off of cliffs or something. The media was releasing all these messed up videos of these guys getting high and terrorizing the public. The best video was them flushing bologna for who knows what reason. The cops were breaking into their home and they were like, "Hide it! Hide it!" One guy didn't make it to the bathroom so ate it.
Do you ever have trouble remembering what you were thinking one second earlier when you're about to fall asleep? If I for some reason can't fall asleep right away, I know I'm about to when I think, "What was I just thinking about? It wasn't important, but still..."
I think that's what it's like to get older and forgetful...just remembered I was thinking about my grampa last night. He passed away two months ago and because of ensuing family drama, I don't feel like I've really had a chance to grieve over him. Although, maybe it will be a lifelong process because I don't even feel like I've processed the fact that he's dead. Or that I'm so painfully terrified of the "afterlife." I don't get it. I don't understand salvation or "what it takes" to attain it. I know it's not about "works" or "doing good," but it's also not just about faith, either. Ah, the ancient argument...grace vs. works.
If a gun was held to my head with the crazy gunner demanding an answer, I'd say I believed my grampa was in heaven. This was posted all over Facebook, but it's a story I hope I'll never forget, even in my own old age...just moments before he passed away, my grampa turned to my uncle Denny with the biggest smile on his face as a tear came out of one eye. I still kick myself because I got to the nursing home just a minute or two too late to see that look and, in a way, it haunts me. When I came through the door, he took his last breath and I heard about the look from my gramma, mom, aunt, uncle and cousin. Five people saw it. As an everlasting skeptic, I always question, "Now, did it happen just as they think it happened?" but come on, they didn't all imagine it. So, my grampa, who was motionless and not eating/drinking for over a week, didn't just randomly become alert enough to show such a joyous look to my uncle. Beneath my layers of skepticism, I believe that my grampa was seeing something truly beautiful. Heaven? Sure, why not? Either way, he was seeing something and that something wasn't linked to the nursing room. Was it coincidence that he became alert with that look right as he was dying? I don't believe it. What are the odds? And where would he have found the energy even to turn his head? No, he saw something and, what's so frustrating, is that after a lifetime of service to God and spreading His Word, the one moment where just one word from him could have spoken a thousand truths, all he could give was a look. But, of course, that was enough, I think. I'll never forget it and I wasn't even there. At first, I was not just in agony that I'd been literally seconds too late to be with him when he died, but that I felt like that look wasn't meant for me...that I wasn't ever going to understand death or life after it, so God just went, "Well, sorry, it wasn't worth wasting something so powerful on you...guess you should have hit better lights as you were driving."
But I did get to see it, even though it was through the testimony of others. And even if I had seen it, would that change much? I'd still question if I saw it right, so I might as well trust the witness of five family members. So, I'm sorry I wasn't there at the very end, grampa, but thank you for even making your final moment of sleep a way for us to see the light of God.
So, after that nap yesterday, I still don't get up in time to ride my bike to work. Well, if I left five minutes after I woke up, I would've, but that's just crazy. When else would I finish my daily crossword? Let's not go crazy here.
Speaking of sleeping, I have the weirdest dreams. Just had one last night (very elaborate one, too) that I won't go too much into detail, but basically a guy I used to know had died because he and his friends dangled their cars off of cliffs or something. The media was releasing all these messed up videos of these guys getting high and terrorizing the public. The best video was them flushing bologna for who knows what reason. The cops were breaking into their home and they were like, "Hide it! Hide it!" One guy didn't make it to the bathroom so ate it.
Do you ever have trouble remembering what you were thinking one second earlier when you're about to fall asleep? If I for some reason can't fall asleep right away, I know I'm about to when I think, "What was I just thinking about? It wasn't important, but still..."
I think that's what it's like to get older and forgetful...just remembered I was thinking about my grampa last night. He passed away two months ago and because of ensuing family drama, I don't feel like I've really had a chance to grieve over him. Although, maybe it will be a lifelong process because I don't even feel like I've processed the fact that he's dead. Or that I'm so painfully terrified of the "afterlife." I don't get it. I don't understand salvation or "what it takes" to attain it. I know it's not about "works" or "doing good," but it's also not just about faith, either. Ah, the ancient argument...grace vs. works.
If a gun was held to my head with the crazy gunner demanding an answer, I'd say I believed my grampa was in heaven. This was posted all over Facebook, but it's a story I hope I'll never forget, even in my own old age...just moments before he passed away, my grampa turned to my uncle Denny with the biggest smile on his face as a tear came out of one eye. I still kick myself because I got to the nursing home just a minute or two too late to see that look and, in a way, it haunts me. When I came through the door, he took his last breath and I heard about the look from my gramma, mom, aunt, uncle and cousin. Five people saw it. As an everlasting skeptic, I always question, "Now, did it happen just as they think it happened?" but come on, they didn't all imagine it. So, my grampa, who was motionless and not eating/drinking for over a week, didn't just randomly become alert enough to show such a joyous look to my uncle. Beneath my layers of skepticism, I believe that my grampa was seeing something truly beautiful. Heaven? Sure, why not? Either way, he was seeing something and that something wasn't linked to the nursing room. Was it coincidence that he became alert with that look right as he was dying? I don't believe it. What are the odds? And where would he have found the energy even to turn his head? No, he saw something and, what's so frustrating, is that after a lifetime of service to God and spreading His Word, the one moment where just one word from him could have spoken a thousand truths, all he could give was a look. But, of course, that was enough, I think. I'll never forget it and I wasn't even there. At first, I was not just in agony that I'd been literally seconds too late to be with him when he died, but that I felt like that look wasn't meant for me...that I wasn't ever going to understand death or life after it, so God just went, "Well, sorry, it wasn't worth wasting something so powerful on you...guess you should have hit better lights as you were driving."
But I did get to see it, even though it was through the testimony of others. And even if I had seen it, would that change much? I'd still question if I saw it right, so I might as well trust the witness of five family members. So, I'm sorry I wasn't there at the very end, grampa, but thank you for even making your final moment of sleep a way for us to see the light of God.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Nothing Important
As the title suggests, nothing super important here. But there was a funny moment on Thursday, riding to work. There's this guy who seems to be sitting shirtless with headphones at the same bench along the St. Mary's bike trail. It was probably the first time I really noticed he always sits there at that time and I was like, "Oh, duh, he's probably waiting for a bus" and then I go, "Yes, Heather, that's what's happening...he's sitting along a bike path where there are no roads, let alone buses, waiting for the mythical Knight Bus to arrive..." That said, it was a rough bike ride Thursday. I hadn't ridden since the Friday before and thought it would be wise to eat a frozen burrito (at least it was an organic one) before the ride to work. My stomach had already been grumbling over the slabs of pizza and cheesy bread I'd crammed in it Wed. night, so the burrito and pizza slabs were having fisticuffs. The ride home was fine, though.
I actually worked six days in a row this week at the Grill. Craziness. Have to say, I'm glad to be off until Monday. I'm having that dream again where I have dozens of tables and no clue what they ordered or how to check them out. It didn't help that my aunt came in the dream with her kids and made me solve a MASH game to determine my tip. When you have to leap up flights of auditorium stands to get to tables that, for some reason, are located there, solving a MASH puzzle is quite stressful.
And most of our trip is planned - we just have two more hostels to book and one train. One week to go! It's going to be weird coming back after all this, looking at planning out fall classes instead of fun trip funtimes. I'm glad I'm still teaching and that I actually have a full section of classes, but I think I'm getting to the point where I either need to teach creative writing or literature, or find something else where I can write myself. The composition classes really are fine and have merit in their own ways, but don't hold much "oomph" for me. The other classes, though, I feel a desire not just to try harder, but to actually have fun with it. I can't say I had a lot of fun activities for the literature class last spring, but as it was my first one, I mostly just looked at getting the basics across. For next spring, I should be teaching the same literature class, and could try some more creative projects, like creating alternate endings to stories or giving character profiles. That would be cool, I think.
What to do the rest of the day? Husband and I might ride to Coldstone for some cold stones....hahahaha, so funny. There's also packing to do and miscellaneous stuff before we take off next week. If anyone wants to come over tonight for Abraham Lincoln Vs. Zombies...nevermind, just check it out and it's Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Slayer that I want to see...the other one looks like a non-Tim Burton piece of crap someone decided to sell on Red Box. So...Iron Lady anyone?
I actually worked six days in a row this week at the Grill. Craziness. Have to say, I'm glad to be off until Monday. I'm having that dream again where I have dozens of tables and no clue what they ordered or how to check them out. It didn't help that my aunt came in the dream with her kids and made me solve a MASH game to determine my tip. When you have to leap up flights of auditorium stands to get to tables that, for some reason, are located there, solving a MASH puzzle is quite stressful.
And most of our trip is planned - we just have two more hostels to book and one train. One week to go! It's going to be weird coming back after all this, looking at planning out fall classes instead of fun trip funtimes. I'm glad I'm still teaching and that I actually have a full section of classes, but I think I'm getting to the point where I either need to teach creative writing or literature, or find something else where I can write myself. The composition classes really are fine and have merit in their own ways, but don't hold much "oomph" for me. The other classes, though, I feel a desire not just to try harder, but to actually have fun with it. I can't say I had a lot of fun activities for the literature class last spring, but as it was my first one, I mostly just looked at getting the basics across. For next spring, I should be teaching the same literature class, and could try some more creative projects, like creating alternate endings to stories or giving character profiles. That would be cool, I think.
What to do the rest of the day? Husband and I might ride to Coldstone for some cold stones....hahahaha, so funny. There's also packing to do and miscellaneous stuff before we take off next week. If anyone wants to come over tonight for Abraham Lincoln Vs. Zombies...nevermind, just check it out and it's Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Slayer that I want to see...the other one looks like a non-Tim Burton piece of crap someone decided to sell on Red Box. So...Iron Lady anyone?
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Fun Trip Funtimes
Ryan and I planned a LOT of our upcoming trip last night...for those who don't know, we're leaving June 30 for 3 1/2 WEEKS in Europe! We definitely didn't expect it to work out this way, but found out that we could combine two of our trips together. One was to visit my friend, Marie, in England where she's studying and the other was a 10-day mission trip in Slovakia where we'll be teaching conversational English in a Christian summer camp. When planning out the trips, we realized there were only three days between each of them and that it would be cheaper to just spend those days in Europe. Who would've thought? So, literally thanking God, we're able to take off that much time and just go off backpacking.
Last night we bought a cheap-o flight from Cork, Ireland, to Edinburgh (only $40 for both of us!); bus tickets to Inverness (to see ol' Nessie, of course); train tickets to Sheffield to see MARIE!; another cheap-o to Budapest; bus tickets to Vienna; and a couple nights in a hostel. We have a few more smaller things to book, but it's a relief to have those costs nailed down. I really can't believe we're doing all this.
It's been six years since I've been to Ireland when I studied in Greystones and I honestly think I'm going to implode from all the nostalgia of seeing the town again. I love that place. There's a train we take from Dublin into Greystones, called the DART, and I used to just ride on it without planning on stopping anywhere, just because I liked moving along the coast. I'd buy Cadbury Eggs at the Bray stop, sit by the window on the train and eat super healthy chocolate eggs up to the last stop, then hop back on a return train. Not the most enlightening past-time, but you definitely meet some fun people that way.
And it was beautiful to see the Greystones harbor when the train would pull out from the hill alongside the trails between Bray and Greystones. In just 11 days, I'll see that harbor again, although from what I understand they've "renovated" it into a shopping center or something, but I'm still excited to see the curve of Greystones' outline by the water.
As we're planning out this trip, I also am so thankful for the backpacking I was able to do after Ireland. Five other people and I got a sweet train pass, and just went to as many countries as we could pack in. Thank you Amy, Becca, Dave, Monty and Steve for those awesome weeks. Even when there were lost passports on trains and hostels that appeared straight out of the actual movie, it was a blast.
I know travel is one of the major ways I've been blessed in my life and I hope I don't always feel guilty for it because I know it can be perceived as something I take for granted. Although, I think my guilt comes from the fact that I do take it for granted sometimes. My mom was baller and took my sister and me on trips ever since I was eight, and it was granted that we would go every single summer to some awesome place or another. I know the future will bring a halt to a lot of the roadtrips and backpacking and whatnot, especially when children and other expenses play a factor, but I'd like to think I'll be prepared for that necessary, worthy change in priorities. Honestly, I didn't think the trips would last as long as they have. I thought that once I was out of college, especially, I wouldn't go as many places, but fortunately found a husband that happened to love traveling, too.
So I'll end where I simply say that, yes, I've taken traveling for granted before, but I thrive on it and love it to a point that hopefully outweighs the times I don't fully appreciate the blessings I have.
Last night we bought a cheap-o flight from Cork, Ireland, to Edinburgh (only $40 for both of us!); bus tickets to Inverness (to see ol' Nessie, of course); train tickets to Sheffield to see MARIE!; another cheap-o to Budapest; bus tickets to Vienna; and a couple nights in a hostel. We have a few more smaller things to book, but it's a relief to have those costs nailed down. I really can't believe we're doing all this.
It's been six years since I've been to Ireland when I studied in Greystones and I honestly think I'm going to implode from all the nostalgia of seeing the town again. I love that place. There's a train we take from Dublin into Greystones, called the DART, and I used to just ride on it without planning on stopping anywhere, just because I liked moving along the coast. I'd buy Cadbury Eggs at the Bray stop, sit by the window on the train and eat super healthy chocolate eggs up to the last stop, then hop back on a return train. Not the most enlightening past-time, but you definitely meet some fun people that way.
And it was beautiful to see the Greystones harbor when the train would pull out from the hill alongside the trails between Bray and Greystones. In just 11 days, I'll see that harbor again, although from what I understand they've "renovated" it into a shopping center or something, but I'm still excited to see the curve of Greystones' outline by the water.
As we're planning out this trip, I also am so thankful for the backpacking I was able to do after Ireland. Five other people and I got a sweet train pass, and just went to as many countries as we could pack in. Thank you Amy, Becca, Dave, Monty and Steve for those awesome weeks. Even when there were lost passports on trains and hostels that appeared straight out of the actual movie, it was a blast.
I know travel is one of the major ways I've been blessed in my life and I hope I don't always feel guilty for it because I know it can be perceived as something I take for granted. Although, I think my guilt comes from the fact that I do take it for granted sometimes. My mom was baller and took my sister and me on trips ever since I was eight, and it was granted that we would go every single summer to some awesome place or another. I know the future will bring a halt to a lot of the roadtrips and backpacking and whatnot, especially when children and other expenses play a factor, but I'd like to think I'll be prepared for that necessary, worthy change in priorities. Honestly, I didn't think the trips would last as long as they have. I thought that once I was out of college, especially, I wouldn't go as many places, but fortunately found a husband that happened to love traveling, too.
So I'll end where I simply say that, yes, I've taken traveling for granted before, but I thrive on it and love it to a point that hopefully outweighs the times I don't fully appreciate the blessings I have.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Serving Stir-Fry
I served today at Flat Top during Father's Day...to say the least, it wasn't all that eventful, but there was a man who came by himself and ate three bowls...I wish I would have asked what he was doing this weekend, mostly just to get an idea why someone would be going out to eat for dinner by themselves on Father's Day. I just sincerely hope it wasn't for a really depressing reason. Although, he seemed cheerful enough and drank about five gallons of tea (we're brewing it now, which is brilliant...SO much better).
Probably the most eventful part was needing to avoid table 30 for a really dumb, juvenile reason. What do you do when you notice someone you haven't been friends with someone for over four years? Without going into specifics, I've seen this person randomly throughout the years (since Fort Wayne's basically just a large village...everyone knows everyone through someone...) and have never just said, "Hey, what's up? How've you been?" Instead, I walked by the table at least 30 times, pretending to have tunnel vision, which is actually very possible since I tend to be oblivious to obvious things. And, really, there's nothing TO say. Ah, the excuses we carry...
But it's been great being back at the Grill. I try to keep a positive outlook on tables, especially when they represent the stereotypes that only servers can understand...such as the middle-aged women who come into the restaurant already holding their free stir-fry coupons. Or teenagers. Yes, teenagers generally suck as tippers, but plenty have surprised me and for that reason alone, I pretend like they're all going to tip well. And, if they don't...is that really such a big deal? At least, is it to the point where I lose motivation to serve other tables well? Because what's the point in getting yourself down when someone tips lousily or acts like the exact texture of their chicken will determine the fate of mankind? There's so many excuses for why we let others' actions determine our own reactions: "They cheated me", "I worked hard for something I didn't get", "If I let this go then how will they learn?", "They didn't tip me? Well, those bitches are fat and ugly, so I'm glad."
The worst part is that I get it. I get the anger and seeming need for vengeance/justice. We get treated unfairly, we want to return it. Just last Friday, I tore up a guest's e-mail sign-up sheet (where they receive free stir-fry on birthdays) because they tipped a dollar on a $25 bill. At the time, I justified it, thinking, "They'll just come back and cheat another server." But, of course, I wasn't altruistic in my act...I wanted to cheat them out of something. And why? Did those extra few dollars even matter? My husband has a good job, I already make good tips...it was that feeling of being cheated that led me to tear them up. If I would have told any other server, they would've supported me. But I don't think they should. Sure, it's crappy behavior, but what does this say about my reactions? Probably the best advice I heard from my counselor was, "You can't control others or the world around you, but you can control yourself." Basically, my inner peace outweighs all the chaos around me, and that's what I want to strive for.
So that I don't end on too philosophical of a point, here's a question for you:
Would you rather drink a glass of your own pee every day or pee your pants every time you rode in a car?
Probably the most eventful part was needing to avoid table 30 for a really dumb, juvenile reason. What do you do when you notice someone you haven't been friends with someone for over four years? Without going into specifics, I've seen this person randomly throughout the years (since Fort Wayne's basically just a large village...everyone knows everyone through someone...) and have never just said, "Hey, what's up? How've you been?" Instead, I walked by the table at least 30 times, pretending to have tunnel vision, which is actually very possible since I tend to be oblivious to obvious things. And, really, there's nothing TO say. Ah, the excuses we carry...
But it's been great being back at the Grill. I try to keep a positive outlook on tables, especially when they represent the stereotypes that only servers can understand...such as the middle-aged women who come into the restaurant already holding their free stir-fry coupons. Or teenagers. Yes, teenagers generally suck as tippers, but plenty have surprised me and for that reason alone, I pretend like they're all going to tip well. And, if they don't...is that really such a big deal? At least, is it to the point where I lose motivation to serve other tables well? Because what's the point in getting yourself down when someone tips lousily or acts like the exact texture of their chicken will determine the fate of mankind? There's so many excuses for why we let others' actions determine our own reactions: "They cheated me", "I worked hard for something I didn't get", "If I let this go then how will they learn?", "They didn't tip me? Well, those bitches are fat and ugly, so I'm glad."
The worst part is that I get it. I get the anger and seeming need for vengeance/justice. We get treated unfairly, we want to return it. Just last Friday, I tore up a guest's e-mail sign-up sheet (where they receive free stir-fry on birthdays) because they tipped a dollar on a $25 bill. At the time, I justified it, thinking, "They'll just come back and cheat another server." But, of course, I wasn't altruistic in my act...I wanted to cheat them out of something. And why? Did those extra few dollars even matter? My husband has a good job, I already make good tips...it was that feeling of being cheated that led me to tear them up. If I would have told any other server, they would've supported me. But I don't think they should. Sure, it's crappy behavior, but what does this say about my reactions? Probably the best advice I heard from my counselor was, "You can't control others or the world around you, but you can control yourself." Basically, my inner peace outweighs all the chaos around me, and that's what I want to strive for.
So that I don't end on too philosophical of a point, here's a question for you:
Would you rather drink a glass of your own pee every day or pee your pants every time you rode in a car?
Friday, June 15, 2012
Up at 6:30 AM
How did I wake up at 6:30....ON MY OWN? Well, now that I'm up, I should be somewhat productive, I guess. I'll go into work in about an hour-and-a-half. I'm so glad for how much I'm being scheduled. About five shifts a week right now at Flat Top and at least an article a week for The News-Sentinel. It's good to have a job where I have to write consistently and one where I can just move and feel needed in the moment. I'm finding out just how real it is that I don't do well with inactivity. Some days are fun to lay around and do nothing, but my mind quickly turns to this mushy smoothie type of substance (granted, at least it's a smoothie, but still...).
I'm not going to take the time right now, but soon I want to post a blog about a subject I cherish as my own future-existing child...The X-Files. Now, for any of you who saw that last abomination of a movie, I apologize. Because, as the world's 5th largest X-Files fan (I'm sure there's at least four people who could beat me out...I mean, I never made it to a convention), I surely had something to do with how horrible that movie was. So, in efforts of bettering the community one blog post at a time, stay tuned for my outline of the REAL 2nd X-Files movie where we literally erase the last one and start over where IT SHOULD HAVE STARTED. It may bring up some controversy, but when it comes to X-Files, I say bring it.
I know I've written a lot about riding my bike lately, but it's added so much to my daily well-being. Excerpt from my journal last night that I thought summed up why I love biking and how it helps me process things....
"Riding my bike to/from work has been so great for me. Ryan and I just rode to the Lawson's for a bonfire and riding home in the dusk reminded me of growing up - it's such a comforting feeling, riding home as night falls and the sun's heat closes its eyes.
"My soul feels lighter, I kid you not. Just being outside and active changes my outlook so drastically. Getting up earlier doesn't feel daunting..."
Later...
"I've tried to talk to God more as I ride, or just simply thanking Him for any random thing I think of...the breeze, cute babies...I want to get it, that whole "knowing God" thing. Where you trust Him even when He makes no sense. Or when He seems like He's doing something wrong. But how can I believe He's here? How can I believe any of this has an ultimate point or origin or destination?
"I love my life, but I'm afraid to because I think of that woman in Ecuador, falsly accused of drug smuggling and sentenced to eight years in prison. I think of that orphan in India who was so unloved her mother tossed her in the trash, bearing the scars from broken glass for the rest of her life, knowing they represent her first days of life. I think of that woman in my own city, pregnant at 16 and raising the baby alone, in constant agony over her future and alone.
"Why is my life so good and enriched and blessed? Sure, I lost a father to brain injury, but at least I have a father - not to mention one who so clearly loves me. Why would God allow me so many blessings and others so much poverty and illness and maltreatment? Why would a child be born only to be abused, molested and defiled?
"But even in these dark questions, my mind feels open to hope. The sun I've felt and absorbed during the days carries me in the nights. Quite literally, I think."
I'm not going to take the time right now, but soon I want to post a blog about a subject I cherish as my own future-existing child...The X-Files. Now, for any of you who saw that last abomination of a movie, I apologize. Because, as the world's 5th largest X-Files fan (I'm sure there's at least four people who could beat me out...I mean, I never made it to a convention), I surely had something to do with how horrible that movie was. So, in efforts of bettering the community one blog post at a time, stay tuned for my outline of the REAL 2nd X-Files movie where we literally erase the last one and start over where IT SHOULD HAVE STARTED. It may bring up some controversy, but when it comes to X-Files, I say bring it.
I know I've written a lot about riding my bike lately, but it's added so much to my daily well-being. Excerpt from my journal last night that I thought summed up why I love biking and how it helps me process things....
"Riding my bike to/from work has been so great for me. Ryan and I just rode to the Lawson's for a bonfire and riding home in the dusk reminded me of growing up - it's such a comforting feeling, riding home as night falls and the sun's heat closes its eyes.
"My soul feels lighter, I kid you not. Just being outside and active changes my outlook so drastically. Getting up earlier doesn't feel daunting..."
Later...
"I've tried to talk to God more as I ride, or just simply thanking Him for any random thing I think of...the breeze, cute babies...I want to get it, that whole "knowing God" thing. Where you trust Him even when He makes no sense. Or when He seems like He's doing something wrong. But how can I believe He's here? How can I believe any of this has an ultimate point or origin or destination?
"I love my life, but I'm afraid to because I think of that woman in Ecuador, falsly accused of drug smuggling and sentenced to eight years in prison. I think of that orphan in India who was so unloved her mother tossed her in the trash, bearing the scars from broken glass for the rest of her life, knowing they represent her first days of life. I think of that woman in my own city, pregnant at 16 and raising the baby alone, in constant agony over her future and alone.
"Why is my life so good and enriched and blessed? Sure, I lost a father to brain injury, but at least I have a father - not to mention one who so clearly loves me. Why would God allow me so many blessings and others so much poverty and illness and maltreatment? Why would a child be born only to be abused, molested and defiled?
"But even in these dark questions, my mind feels open to hope. The sun I've felt and absorbed during the days carries me in the nights. Quite literally, I think."
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Questions to Feed the Mind
Riding to work today, soaking in the pleasant sun rays and breeze off the rivers, I pondered over some very relevant, self-seeking questions:
1. Can you call yourself a vegetarian if you only eat animals that suck?
2. Are three pieces of bread placed on top of each other a bread sandwich or a stack of bread (I've argued this for many years now...but I'll let you answer instead of giving my answer)?
3. Where does wind come from? And why does it go away? (I never paid attention in Science)
4. Why are numbers divisible by three my favorite numbers?
5. If they remade The Sound of Music who would play the Captain? And Maria? Would the whistle be replaced with a whistling phone app? And would Rolph be a vampire?
6. If eggs smell good and taste good, why does the egg smell by the river smell so bad?
7. What's the exact point where Earth becomes space? Can you stick your head in and out?
8. How did that crazy guy eat that homeless guy's FACE? True story: http://www.latimes.com/news/nation/nationnow/la-na-nn-miami-face-eating-victim-20120612,0,6757015.story
And even if you were 95% full of drugs, wouldn't there be a moment where you were like, "I'm eating someone's FACE"???? And when the cops showed up, WHY WOULDN'T YOU STOP IT?
Look forward to your answers.
1. Can you call yourself a vegetarian if you only eat animals that suck?
2. Are three pieces of bread placed on top of each other a bread sandwich or a stack of bread (I've argued this for many years now...but I'll let you answer instead of giving my answer)?
3. Where does wind come from? And why does it go away? (I never paid attention in Science)
4. Why are numbers divisible by three my favorite numbers?
5. If they remade The Sound of Music who would play the Captain? And Maria? Would the whistle be replaced with a whistling phone app? And would Rolph be a vampire?
6. If eggs smell good and taste good, why does the egg smell by the river smell so bad?
7. What's the exact point where Earth becomes space? Can you stick your head in and out?
8. How did that crazy guy eat that homeless guy's FACE? True story: http://www.latimes.com/news/nation/nationnow/la-na-nn-miami-face-eating-victim-20120612,0,6757015.story
And even if you were 95% full of drugs, wouldn't there be a moment where you were like, "I'm eating someone's FACE"???? And when the cops showed up, WHY WOULDN'T YOU STOP IT?
Look forward to your answers.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Riding Through the City
I've started riding my bike to work at Flat Top when it's nice enough...going down the RiverGreenway only takes about nine miles each way at around 50-55 minutes. I thought it would be crazy to do it once, let alone 2-3 times a week, but it's been SOOOOO good for me. Some bonuses so far:
1. I get up earlier and actually FEEL AWAKE. Crazy.
2. I see the city I live in and recognize the smaller details, like how Runnion has the worst sidewalks ever and there are sweet murals near Headwaters.
3. Going downhill on a bike path surrounded by trees and a good breeze heals the soul. And going uphill kills it. So life balances out.
4. People wave to each other - just for the heck of it - when walking or riding past each other. Some people honk and yell things like, "Get it selhalm..." (their voices faded off as the car drove by...REALLY want to know what "selhalm" was supposed to be), which is annoying, but tolerable.
5. My thoughts are more outward focused instead of inward and narrow. It's hard to explain, but I don't feel as closed up inside when I've been outdoors more. As if I can see the world through my actual eyes instead of feeling the onslaught of stagnant, muddy thoughts.
6. I appreciate distance more.
So I'm pretty happy with this new transportation. It makes me feel more one with the landscape...even when that landscape smells like eggs near St. Mary's River.
1. I get up earlier and actually FEEL AWAKE. Crazy.
2. I see the city I live in and recognize the smaller details, like how Runnion has the worst sidewalks ever and there are sweet murals near Headwaters.
3. Going downhill on a bike path surrounded by trees and a good breeze heals the soul. And going uphill kills it. So life balances out.
4. People wave to each other - just for the heck of it - when walking or riding past each other. Some people honk and yell things like, "Get it selhalm..." (their voices faded off as the car drove by...REALLY want to know what "selhalm" was supposed to be), which is annoying, but tolerable.
5. My thoughts are more outward focused instead of inward and narrow. It's hard to explain, but I don't feel as closed up inside when I've been outdoors more. As if I can see the world through my actual eyes instead of feeling the onslaught of stagnant, muddy thoughts.
6. I appreciate distance more.
So I'm pretty happy with this new transportation. It makes me feel more one with the landscape...even when that landscape smells like eggs near St. Mary's River.
Monday, June 11, 2012
The Woman in Black
Just watched The Woman in Black last night with husband...have to say, it was refreshing to see Harry Potter being NOT Harry Potter. Seriously, how is Daniel Radcliffe that old now? Ryan made the excellent point that it was good he didn't wear circular glasses in this movie. I think that would've been hilarious...or if the woman in black scared him so much, he fell and hit his head on a table, leaving a zigzag scar on his forehead.
All in all, though, have to say that the movie was pretty stellar in the creepiness department and overall sinister landscape, but was really disappointing...as in...the ending doesn't make sense. But Harry Potter did a good job.
I'd say the movie led to some pretty weird dreams last night, but I always have weird dreams...if you're one for interpretation, here's one for you: I'm having liposuction, but the kind where a bunch of Japanese women stuff cut up pillows into random incisions along my body...why they're Japanese, that's for you to interpret. It supposedly hurt, but the kind of dream-hurt where it really just feels like nothing. After the surgery, I'm walking around eating bananas to make the soreness die down (again, I don't actually feel it, though), but have to start running away from a guy who is Romeo, chasing Juliet in a car down the highway. They wreck and suddenly I'm on a ship, avoiding a guy I assisted in assassinating someone else while I was under the alibi of having liposuction. So yeah....
All in all, though, have to say that the movie was pretty stellar in the creepiness department and overall sinister landscape, but was really disappointing...as in...the ending doesn't make sense. But Harry Potter did a good job.
I'd say the movie led to some pretty weird dreams last night, but I always have weird dreams...if you're one for interpretation, here's one for you: I'm having liposuction, but the kind where a bunch of Japanese women stuff cut up pillows into random incisions along my body...why they're Japanese, that's for you to interpret. It supposedly hurt, but the kind of dream-hurt where it really just feels like nothing. After the surgery, I'm walking around eating bananas to make the soreness die down (again, I don't actually feel it, though), but have to start running away from a guy who is Romeo, chasing Juliet in a car down the highway. They wreck and suddenly I'm on a ship, avoiding a guy I assisted in assassinating someone else while I was under the alibi of having liposuction. So yeah....
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Getting Started
I decided to trash my old blog since it was an ancient ruin. I never wrote on it while it was active, anyway. So here's to fresh starts! Actually, my biggest hang-up in starting another blog was the name. What do you call something that's supposed to "symbolize" your public writing? I tried an online generator, but everything I found either tried to give my computer a virus or came up with lame-o names like "Fragment Dreams" or "Heather Creations."
Yeah, those would make me want to keep reading, too.
So I chose "Bleeding Crimson." It doesn't mean a whole lot, unless you want it to, I guess. In a journal entry a few years ago, I was trying to think how to describe the horrible pain in my chest and wrote "bleeding crimson down my rib cage." I read that entry a lot, mostly to remind myself what it was like being at life's lowest moment, and decided it was a good title for this blog. Not because I'm still in that pain, but I guess the idea holds true: if we want to be pretentious we can say it means that all of us bleed crimson, uniting us despite our differences. But, really, it's just a phrase that's always stuck in my head.
So that's where the title comes from. As for the point of this blog, I can't help you there. The entries will depend on if I want to be in a random story-telling mood or if I want to attempt at insight.
But right now I'm hungry. The five pounds of strawberries from Cedar Creek Produce in Leo, IN, somehow hasn't tided me over from this afternoon. Mmmm...strawberries.
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