When I go home I wish people would use lj-cuts. a 48k connection and a crappy computer means 5 minutes (literally) of load time on the friends page.

five minutes.

Granted, that's just extra time I would have sat staring at the particle board wall in our basement, making imaginary patterns in the wood pulp.

I guess I could do that anyway.

But it's still just good manners.


I love my wacky family. Sometimes I forget this. But they love me too, and so it's not a bad deal. I miss my indiana friends, even though I'll see a lot of you who are reading this a whole bunch.. some of you even more now that school is starting. I feel like this post should conclude, but I don't feel like I said enough to make a restatement or summary worthwhile.

(no subject)

I've been so blessed this summer.

I could tell all of you all about it, but really. Most of you who want to know already do.

This Beautiful Day is something I am proud of now. If God wants to use us to make things happen, he will. We're ready, or at least on our way to being that way. And if he doesn't, if this door slams, the experiences already garnered are more than memorable enough.

Next semester is a party I can't wait to get started.

(no subject)

So abby is coming to indy to visit on sunday.

I'm sort of excited about that. By which I mean I'm peeing my pants.

This Beautiful Day is playing all next week for fifth and sixth graders. To be honest, I could only be excited about this with the guys I'm working with. nobody else could make that something worth nervous expectation.

Caitlin, it was good talking about serious things.

Andy, I'm sorry I missed your show. I'm a horrible friend.

Readers, I'm sorry for turning my blog into a personal message board.

Only in America could you get addicted to eating out. We have it so easy we create new and incredibly lame problems. I've got thousands of them. But my gluttonous social dining has got to come to some sort of a halt. And it's not going to get any easier when I go back to school. Blast my greedy selfish habits.
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    denison witmer

(no subject)

I didn't totally hate "the notebook."

And I'm fully aware that most men (myself included) are totally not selfless wonderful people.

And almost all women are not completely selfish, indecisive tramps.

And it's just a story, and you can fast forward the parts you don't like.

And I think watching and discussing it helped breach the gap of intergender relations. For the most part. Sorry if I overreacted. Okay. I'm not really sorry. I love you, don't leave me, wait, I hate you. go away. I was just joking. We're still friends right?

Anne, if you want me to think like a girl for you, make sure you're giving me the right kind of female identity. And I promise to take notes and act like that guy as long as women will take notes and not act like that girl. Deal.

Aaaaaannnnnd I'm done overreacting. For now. I'm going to go (hopefully) buy something tomorrow:

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    the "I'm pretty Gangsta myself" mix

(no subject)

How the hell was I supposed to handle this evening?

I'm going to be the worst father ever; I'm pretty sure I couldn't confront a tree. Much less some pissy ladies in a pizza place much less a child I love and need to care for. Maybe I'll grow out of my wuss stage.

Jesus would have probably paid for those ladies' meal. Once again, I fail.

On a lighter note: Robb Kelley, you more than anyone should see this, but we can all benefit from it:

A web dating site just for racing fans.

I'm not even joking.
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    unwed sailor

(no subject)

Putting off finishing my paper... two or three pages to go...
I'm not sure what the church pays me for still. I'm still really busy, but I don't know why I'm here. But I'm glad to be here. But I want to not be a waste of resources.

I'm trading in Busta Genius, my pimp-tight van to my parents this weekend for a smaller, fuel-efficient (only slightly moreso) buick. This is the second time I've traded this exact van for a buick. Which is a story too long for the quality it contains. I've been looking back at entries from blogs of the past, and it seems I had a lot more to say last year. Maybe I thought I was more important, or that more people needed to hear the wisdom/bitching I would dish out like candy to children from a man in a van with a mustache. The man had the mustache. not the van. My similies have lost their punch. It'll be alright.

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(no subject)

I think sometimes I'll never be a scholar.

I think sometimes I shouldn't strive towards vague and abstract and barely definable goals.

I think sometimes that writing 5,000 words about anything is borderline impossible, let alone a real thesis...

I realize sometimes that I should probably be doing something I'm good at, rather than wading through a murk of confusion... But then the easy way doesn't really make you better at anything...

Changing my major to Biblical Studies might have ruined my life. We shall have to see. Once I finish this paper I'll go back to being the blissfully ignorant youth intern, as opposed to the painfully ignorant undergrad student.
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    the violet burning