Last Night I dreamt I returned to Memphis

Actually, I'm there often in my dreams; I just like the line. No last night had had three pretty good ones.

1) While out for a walk in the neighborhood where I grew up I noticed that the smoothie/coffee bar on the corner appeared to have gone out of business. I noted to my brother, John, that it was unfortunate because it had nice ambiance and a good feel. I tried to predict what would take its place. I voted for one of those modern head shops. It could have jewelry, incense, t-shirts with naughty sayings, music, home (mother's basement) decor, absurd shoes, and the like.
John got tired of the conversation and announced that he was going to go to lunch, but we had to change. So we went home and John changed into colonial period clothes, which were very dashing. I was having trouble getting into my colonial period clothes. John implied that it was because I was too large a woman for the period (which just isn't true, there have always been fat women), but I pointed out that it was the petticoats I was having trouble with. He jot mad and left and I changed back into my jeans. This is the point at which the dream becomes weird.
Because of the zombies outside, I had to be very careful as I walked to the campus of the boarding school. I also had to be careful because I had neglected to put on shoes. Turns out this school was a boys school and the smaller kids were all quite frightened. The older boys were just mean, but they thought they knew of a place where there wouldn't be zombies. SO we begin walking. I goof and imply to one of the boys that because he died as a character in a Stephen King novel he was pretty much a goner here. That freaked him out and so I had to take it all back. At one point we had to descend into a storm drain, it was handy though, because some one had cached a rather lot of supplies (including shoes). All the shoes were too big for me, but one of the pairs were canvas tennis shoes which I could wrench down pretty tight so that it basically fit.
We walked out of the drain into a snowed over urban landscape, somebody had plowed the roads but we had to walk in the roadway because the side walks were clogged up. While we were underground the zombies had learned to drive, so walking in the road was not the safest of all the options. Meanwhile a pregnant zombie had crept up behind us. She blamed us for the death of her baby (totally unfair charge, her baby died when she became on one the undead, which we had nothing to do with). She came around the front of me and I tried to convince her to be happy instead with a pizza box I had found by the road; it diverted her for a while, but then she came after me again so I ran back towards a back hoe. Two more zombies came at me from the side, and I tried to take them all out with the shovel of the hoe, but it was frozen stuck. I woke up, and had a hell of a time going back to sleep.

2) I was a counselor at a summer camp that was being run by Admiral Adama. The seemed to be a serial killer on the loose. Also all these teens were in spiritual crisis, so taking a break from hunting down the killer I delivered a kick-ass sermon about using more metaphors for God than just the disapproving Father. It was beautiful and poetic, and such a sweet speech that when I was done Adama dumped a cooler of Gatorade on me. I then had to find a way to modestly walk to the back of the field for my jacket as I had been wearing a white shirt. When I got to the back of the field I put on my jacket and looked up into one of the trees. There was a kid up there hanging in the tree. I let out a Hollywood worthy scream. Adama came over, his son was very upset (not the son from the show, younger like a really young James Franco) because he had really liked the kid in the tree. Adama, spotting a roll of scotch double-sided tape, called up for the kid to come down and stop fooling around. He explained that the kid had been seeking some attention. We didn't find the real killer because I woke up.

3) The third one is very very long, and a bit disjointed so I'll pass on telling it. But it had to do with travel and planes and hotels and airports, It was crazy. Trust me.

Things I thought of while in the tub

Why don't they make a device for your bathroom that shows you when your hot water heater is done doing its thing? If you had that, you wouldn't turn the water on until it was ready (premature hot water requests slow down the heater, don't they?).

There should be a thing like a poncho with snaps around the border that you could attach to the tub to make a warm air tent. It could be made of two layers of stretchy terry cloth separated by a thin flexible layer of plastic and have hand holes. It would keep cold air out, warm air in, and would enable book-safe bathtub reading. They could market different shapes: rectangle, round, and oval; they you would pick the best match based on the tub. The snaps would attach to the tub with some sort of water-proof, but non-permanent adhesive, so that you could move them if you weren't happy with their placement.

What I read this month

Elizabeth Lowell: The Wrong Hostage
Jayne Ann Krentz: White Lies
Kasey Michaels: High Heels and Homicide
Steve Martini: The Jury, abridged on audiobook (abridged audiobooks is a rant for another day)
Simon R. Green: Hex and the City
Christopher Moore: Coyote Blue

books that I have read but can't remember if it was this month or last month
Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman: Good Omens
Matthew Pearl: The Dante Club

and finally a book I continue to work on, having been unable thus far to finish it.
Susanne Clark: Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrel

Second Life Rant

So I signed on to second life this week. Then I signed of, deleted my account and uninstalled the software. Why? It turns out I am just hopelessly naive. Here is the response to the question I gave the people who maintain Second Life.

When I signed up with second life, I expected to find a global community working to perfect cyber-civilization, eschewing the divisions of class and rank, and endeavoring to reach the highest achievement in philosophy, discourse, aesthetics, and harmony. Instead I found a tawdry and perverted landscape dominated by casinos that were little more than fronts for pyramid schemes and spam baiting and pathetic sex clubs which seem to be the only place brand new members can find employment within SL. I was saddened, then disgusted, and finally disillusioned, which is why I am canceling my account and uninstalling the client.

So in the end I lost a couple day's productivity, had to abandon an email address I had used since college, and found that some small part of my optimism had died. Thanks Second Life, for nothing.

Yeah I'm guilty

Already letting the blog slip a bit, oh well. I'm back. It was a pretty busy week. Last Sunday I was supplying in Cuba, IL at a really nice, friendly small town church. The sermon wasn't all I was hoping it would be, but the service was quite a nice one. Then Tuesday morning I had an ill-begotten interview with local company Multi-Ad seeking what's know in the ministry as tent-making work (after Paul's secular work so that he could pay his own way in ministry and not be a burden on the Corinthian church)(though of course he did accept money from the Philippians, so read into that what you will). Tuesday evening it was my turn to bring a sermon to the area church Lenten worship series. The sermon was a really good one, but would have been better if I hadn't stumbled once or twice on delivery. Then things calmed down a bit; I was declined for the job. We Role played on Friday night until we were all too tired to see straight (except for Carson and Matt who were still on whatever kind of high the two of them experience at role playing, I can only hope they're not like that at work). Sunday I was back at Cuba for the second Sunday of a two week engagement. This time the sermon went a good deal better, which is nice, though Carson thought there were two sermons in what I was preaching (though of course they were a different two than the ones I would have picked out). Boy this is a long paragraph.

I've decided to start keeping a journal that is not online as well, to track what I've done during the day and what kind of day it was for me. Also, I'm trying not to be paranoid about the mail carrier, though I'm almost sure she's stealing mail.

Amanda has some really great ideas about finishing up the west wing project, starting some new projects, working with Thoughtful Christian, and submitting things to Disciplesworld (our denominational magazine). So it's good to have something to keep myself busy. I also have the seemingly unending flooring project, I see it coming to an end soon though.

Lost day

Last night I dreamt I got the job at Multi-Ad.

Carson and I were driving into work, I fell asleep in the car. I woke up -- what I could have sworn was only a few moments later, but turned out was the next day. I was worried that I would lose my new found job because of my lost day (I didn't know where my desk was, what I was working on, etc). Carson said it would be fine.

We got to the office, but now there was a major hospital attached to the building. We went in the nearest door, but it was clear that we were nowhere near the Web/Development/Testing area. At one point arson left to go to his desk and I was left wandering around this hospital looking for my boss's office. I found the pediatrics department (the floors there were waxed to a high sheen and I slipped and fell. A nurse made fun of me; it was traumatic).

Eventually I found my boss's office and she asked me to take her daughter to the pediatrician in the building. We headed out and got to the department. When she was done we walked through the shopping mall on our way back to the office (the building having taken on airport perportions at this point) we decided that the Ralph Lauren spring collection looked a better set of clothes for me than for her (they were like ocean fairy clothes, stuff I'm pretty sure Ralph didn't design)

Just before we got to the last staircase before we were back in the office, this guy I knew from CPE, a guy who I'm pretty sure is totally unfit for the ministry, came walking in. He was shocked to see me, and claimed that he had picked being a chaplain at this hospital so no one who knew him would have to work with him again. I explained that I wasn't working as a chaplain but for a technical wing of this hospital in testing. He totally freaked out my boss's daughter, so I told him we had to go. After that I think I stopped dreaming for a while because the next dream had something to do with floods and river rafts and 300 as a football game.

Moving On?

Every now and then I get sudden, serious wanderlust. It's never convenient and to be perfectly frank I have never followed through. Last night as I was preparing for a Lenten service coming up this Tuesday and I suddenly got the urge to move to Oceania. I'm totally, irrationally afraid of snakes so Australia is right out. New Zealand though, well I think I fell in love with the scenery of NZ through film and television.

I was encouraged to dream about NZ because of the rather lot of exciting liturgical work that is going on there (and Australia, but I refer you above). Really, the only modern work in metrical psalms that I have seen of late comes out of this continent.

Apparently, the NZIS (which just looks wrong doesn't it?) has a category of immigration requests from people in fields of long-term shortage. They even have a little quiz thing so see if you are qualified enough. Carson, my husband is really really qualified, but I'm not quite qualified enough. The two of us together might make a really skilled immigrant couple.

Realistic things like mortages and interviews and such makes this little day dream a bit moot. Still it's always fun to dream.

About the title

I once knew a guy who had a personal game where he would attempt to develop the most exquisite complements for people he knew. When he finally got around to me, he decided that I was a wry juxtaposition of something and something else (he actually had words in place of the somethings, but the memory of them has faded) (it was something like innocence and a mouth like a sailor or intelligence and humor). At first I was not a happy camper. It seemed to me that this was not a complement at all (I was about 16). However the idea of my personally being made up of disparate parts, a personality formed by holding these parts in uneasy relationship with one another, that stuck with me.

I am really bad about blogging. This is actually the third or fourth attempt at a blog. I make no promises about being better. What I do promise is that what I post here will be true, and it will undoubtedly be a little weird.