Still Making Money from the New Deal

On my way out of the state, I got stuck behind this car with the most interesting bumper sticker:
Now, I know that our governing system is breaking down. And as much as I am a fan of FDR during his own time, I'm not sure bringing him back from the dead is quite the solution I'm hoping for. :)

Complex Issues for Oblivious Girl

I'm not entirely sure when it happened, but I think I gave myself a complex.

For many years now, I find myself extremely uncomfortable if someone is watching me. Odd, I know, considering that I often find myself in situations where I am in front of people. Every other week I play piano in front of my church. I used to work at Starbucks--a hugely public job where people watch you when as you make their drink. Being watched, sometimes, is part of the gig.

Funny thing is, it never used to bother me. I used to perform in choirs. I never shrank from presentations or public speaking. I made a fool out of myself as a youth leader. I was required to conduct mini-performances at the piano for nearly every family gathering. And I used to do all those things well. All I can figure is that at some point between playing piano for my family and my job at Starbucks, I developed this irrational fear of people watching me.

Don't get me wrong, I like being recognized as much as the next person, but when I feel someone's stare burning a hole in my head, I become nervous. I drop things. Or I trip over things. All grace has left me and I act like a fool.

Maybe this is how I became Oblivious Girl. I think I ignored everyone's undue attention so that I would be able to function without become a complete klutz. As a result, when I catch people watching me, I act more like Clark Kent rather than Superman. This penchant for invisibility has not served me well. And as I am hoping to shed my superhero trait of obliviousness for a chance normalcy, I think I have to deal with my natural clumsiness and irrational nervousness. Living in fear of my awkwardness isn't working and being oblivious has not served me well.

Sigh. I think I need to try something new. It hasn't changed in ten years, but I'm confident that anything can happen.

Meeting David Copperfield

On a random turn of events, one of which involving my grandfather and his library collection (of which I covet), I picked up the book David Copperfield, by Charles Dickens. (By the way, if I hear another joke about reading a book about the magician of the same name, I will cry. I really will.)

My run-ins with Charles Dickens were always met with frustration and anxiety. He, for the lack of a better term, was a man of many words. Which, I could not blame him entirely because he was paid per word. I would try to put as many words into my manuscript if someone were to offer the same rate. Also, my first encounter with Mr. Dickens was with the massive and albeit confusing Great Expectations. From that book on, I did not expect too much from the great and revered writer. (Sorry, I had to take the pun.)

Back to my book. So, being tired of not finding anything of note to read in this century, and having exhausted most of my endeavors with Jane Austen and not being able to tackle another tale woven by a Russian literary great, I decided to give Charles Dickens a try. Even though I have a feeling this will take me a while to get through this book, I have observed two things:

1. Charles Dickens has a great command of words. Since he was expected to use so many, I was surprised to find that nearly every single word is carefully picked. No one can string together a sentence like Charles Dickens.

2. Anything I had said before about Charles Dickens I take back. In other words, I was wrong.

I know, I know. Don't worry, I won't let it get to my head. :)

Currently reading : David Copperfield (Modern Library Classics) By Charles Dickens

Five Hours Later...

Apparently, I finished archiving the blogs I had on my other website.

It took me five hours. I just couldn't stop. I had to get something done. Even if it meant sitting in front of my computer for five hours.

However, I suppose it would not have taken me nearly that long if I hadn't read every single blog I was archiving. I have been lax in the past couple of months, which I attribute to my lack of access to the internet. So here's another futile promise to be better at this.

I am an avid journal writer, and I have been amazed in looking back through those entries and seeing how much I have changed, which lessons I still have not yet learned, and most of all...the hand of my glorious God.

I experienced the same thing as I read through my blog entries. God has remained faithful while I have not been. And if there is anything to keep this blog going, it is to catalog just how good He is.

And of course, what I think about this upcoming election. :-)

Archiving

For those new to the site, I am currently working on putting past blog entries from my former blog website in the blog archive for your viewing pleasure!

Yes...I'm bored. Nothing a little X-Files won't fix.

Strangers

There are a few things that make me happy. One, of course, is David Duchovny. And on this short list is my grandfather.

A couple weeks ago, my grandparents visited the Philippines. They make a trip every once in awhile, but due to their health issues, this trip was shorter than usual.

While Grandpa was making dinner, he told me how Manila changed. Imagine putting the entire population of Washington and Oregon in the area the size of Seattle and the "greater Seattle" area, and you have Manila. 12 Million people...in itty, bitty, living space.

However, my grandpa's one observation was, although not unique, still profoundly sad. "I am a stranger in my own home," he said simply, his eyes glazed with a thought of a memory that will never grow old for him. He hardly recognized anything, anyplace, anyone. The world that had birthed him was now a foreign land.

Again, not a new concept, but still an one worth considering.

I thought about how awful it would be to go back to the place that was once so familiar and know that you no longer belonged. I could not imagine my hometown changing so much beyond recognition. I could not imagine what it would be like to finally realize that you can no longer keep up with the constantly changing world.

The effects of being old, I suppose.

However, as my grandfather laughed away his comment, I felt more endeared to him. We exchanged comfortable smiles and joked about some inane thing on the news channel.

The effects of being vulnerable, I suppose.