also including lots of things inside parenthesis

Oh, there are so many things that I wish could write about right now, but time and creative juice just will not allow for it. Like I could tell you about my experience this past weekend with twenty 13-15 year olds at the Assemblies of God Ohio District's Fine Arts Festival 2007. Because riding shot-gun to Corky in the green church van packed with 9th grade girls all the way to Dayton to watch and perform Human Videos for two days would make a stellar post. Or there's the unwritten, but riveting, essay about my experience earlier this week sitting through lectures given by Robert Wuthnow at the local Methodist Seminary. (Have you ever seen Book TV? Imagine that kind of ambiance.) Or there's the never ending tension that I live with about being/becoming a pastor's wife. (GREAT story about the one time when I met James Dobson, that one I'm saving for a rainy day.) But as previously mentioned, none of those posts are written. Instead you'll be getting a post about nothing. Never fear, this post does contain an absurd amount of links for your clicking enjoyment. (Blue Words = Things You Can Click On) I originally included a couple of links so that if you didn't know what I was talking about, you could click and learn. Then I looked back and realized that all the links were kinda boring, and that I should definitely link to some things that were something other than boring. Because, let's face it, there are so many things on the internet that are anything but boring. So please, enjoy clicking around. It's my gift to you. No, please stop, it's really an honor just to be nominated.

Hey! That's Me!

I don't have kids. I don't have pets. I work in a cubicle. I live in someone else's home. I don't drive a cool car. So naturally most of the pictures I take are of me. That, and I'm working on a compilation of pics of me looking remarkably like a bad drag queen. Seriously. I need a few more to round out the group, but they will eventually make it to the internet.
I've spent a lot of years avoiding pictures and cameras because the image that I had of myself in my head was decidedly NOT the image that showed up when a camera got involved. I am tired of living like that. There is no need to be so hard on myself. So, in honor of me not being irrationally hard on myself, here are a couple of pics of me. They're both pre-work-out. The top one is of me giving the treadmill a warning look. (Notice how much more intimidating I am when I look through my bangs. Treadmill, I am serious! And I have the bangs to prove it!) The bottom pic is what happens when I sleep with a humidifier four inches from my head. Obviously, I find morning hair highly amusing.

Happy B-Day Mother-In-Law

"WHEN was the last time you saw a grown man with a large hickey?" Out of the blue. No warning. We're all sitting innocently in the living room, when this question rings out from the overstuffed chair beside the window.

Happy Birthday to the woman who undeniably raised my Husband. The woman who regularly tells me that she loves and appreciates me. The same woman who has let Husband and I take over a portion of her house while we figure out what the heck we're doing. Not only tolerating us, but cherishing the time that we are spending together under one roof.

Just so you know, I cherish it too. And though you've never pressured us, I promise that you'll be a Grandma, SOMEDAY. (Just not in the next 9 months.)

Happy Birthday to the woman who is unafraid to ask the hard questions. (When WAS the last time I saw a grown man with a large hickey?)

Forgot to Buy a Card? Just Start Your Own Blog.

Husband,
Happy V-Day. I didn't get you a card. Had I planned better, I could have gotten a card late last week or last weekend, but now that we're snowed in (again) I am empty handed. There aren't many things less convincing than a card delivering my undying love and affection several days late. And seriously, all the good cards will be taken by the time I get to a store, and it'll just be an ugly sappy one that I'd never normally purchase and wouldn't come close to describing any actual feeling I've ever had for you. They say it's the thought that counts, but when you're a "Words of Encouragement" person, thoughts alone don't really do the trick. Unless! I put the thoughts down in a written form and let you (and the entire internet) read them.

It's hard to describe the depth of what I mean when I say I love you. I don't know any other languages, and that's kinda sad for several reasons but right now it's mostly sad because they say that there are other words out there that can better express romantic emotions. But I don't know any of them, so I'll continue wrestling within the constraints of the English language (American style) to write this.

This is our 6th Valentines Day together or 7th, I'm bad with numbers. We'd been dating like three weeks during our first V-Day. We'd been married a month and a half by the time the next one came around because I am a Man-Trap and you were intrigued by a girl from Southern Missouri who would spend a Saturday night watching an indy film about an old lady who discovers the wonders of pot. Since then, you've spent a big chunk of our life together putting up with my crap. And that has been no small task. Depression, anxiety, and despair are not easily navigated. You've created a very safe place in the world for me, and that place exists wherever and whenever the two of us are together. There really are no words to describe what that means to me. I am convinced that I have been able to move away from a lot of those feelings because you have been ever vigilant in reminding me that there is hope, beauty and that life can be good. I've never before believed that like I do right now.

I am so in love with you. You are my favorite. You are my best friend. There is no one I'd rather spend my life, or simply a moment with. I didn't really know what people meant when they said, five years ago, that our love would only grow. And while I don't want to wish time away, I cannot wait to feel what I will feel about you on our 25th or 50th V-Day together. It's hard to imagine feeling any stronger or deeper feelings for you, but I know I will because five years ago I didn't think that the feelings I have now were possible.

Thank you for being on this journey with me. Thank you for letting me/forcing me to walk parts of it alone, but not really alone. Thank you for warming up my side of the bed. Thank you for making me scrambled eggs. Thank you for letting me know how much I mean to you. Thank you for thinking and really truly believing that I'm awesome. Thank you for encouraging me to do things that I love. Thank you for tapping into the never empty keg of grace and mercy when dealing with Passive-Aggressive-Rude-Huffy-Slamming-Things-Around-Girl when I know you'd rather just tap into an actual keg. Thank you for not letting me get away with not being true to myself. Thank you for being you. You are my flavor.

~Wife

P.S. Unfortunately, the ninja claw and 32 oz. of wolf urine I ordered for you won't arrive for another day or two. They refuse to rush ship in this kind of weather.

I'm holding my breath for a copy of A Million Random Digits with 100,000 Normal Deviates or a subscription to Crappie World

Only two days until the most important holiday in the first quarter of the calendar year. If you choose the Rush Shipping option, you can still get some of these items in time for the big day. Husband, I hope you're reading this...

Breakfast of Chumpions

I overheard a commercial this morning for some children's cereal touting "strawberry flavored crunchlets." And after recovering from the shock of the word "crunchlet" my brain lurched back to the first part of that phrase, "strawberry flavored." How many kids experience strawberry "flavor" before they ever experience an actual strawberry? Who needs real strawberries when we've got crunchlets? Excuse me, I have to go to Whole Foods now.

The Cry of the Bleeding Heart

I'm fresh off a line of social justice/consciousness raising movies, so readers beware. It's really not ok how we treat each other. Really not ok. Whether we're the ones actually doing the harm, or whether we're just watching it and ignoring it, it's not ok. As one of the characters in one of the movies I've seen recently says, "I'm tired of writing about victims, but it's all I can do." Well, quite frankly I'm tired of watching movies about victims. I'm tired of watching movies where in the end our collective conscious is quelled by the fact that the Peace corps made an appearance and we saw a plane drop some bags of rice, "so it's not like they're not getting helped." I'm tired of watching the nightly news intently, waiting for the 30 second clip about what's happening on the other side of the world that's been sandwiched between the Pet of the Week and the 10 Minute Weather Watch. I'm tired of feeling like there's nothing I can do but pray or send a check and some "gently used" clothing somewhere. Is that really all I can do? It's not ok how we treat each other. I do not have a solution for Africa, India, the rest of the world or even America. All I know is that it starts right here. Right now. It starts with me treating the people that I come into contact with on a daily basis (store clerks, waiters/waitresses, co-workers, strangers, people who don't look like they believe what I believe...) with respect and dignity. It starts with me really seeing people, not just looking in their general direction, but seeing them. It starts with me realizing that I am not the only one in the world who feels lonely, angry, stressed out, late for work, frustrated that things aren't going my way. It starts with me realizing that I am not the only one in the world.

Definitely don't watch any (or all) of these movies in conjunction with reading Shane Claiborne's book, The Irresistible Revolution or listening to any of Rob Bell's podcasts titled Calling All Peacemakers 1-3. Movies: Pan's Labyrinth, Sophie Scholl, The Last King of Scotland, Blood Diamond, Notes on a Scandal.

It starts with me. And it starts with you. Let's see where that gets us.

Blunt Force Cajones

The following email conversation is one of the main reasons that I will continue blogging.

To: Jenna
From: Uncle Tom
Subject: Re: Blunt Force Creativity
Message: Read the email. - - - - - - - Read the Blog - - - - - - - You are absolutely nuts. - - - - - - - - - Maybe that's why I like you so much.
Uncle Tom

To: Uncle Tom
From: Jenna
Subject: Re: Re: Blunt Force Creativity
Message: that's fantastic. i love it. i am nuts. thanks for the validation. lots of people tell me what i want to hear, and you are one of the few who have the cajones to speak truth. maybe that's why i like you so much.

niece jenna

To: Jenna
From: Uncle Tom
Subject: Blunt Force Cajones
Message: I always get cajones when we go Mexican. Either that or a burrito. They are good with a little guacamole and sour cream (from cow's milk of course) on the side.

Your Always unabashed - Uncle T (aka Tio Cajones Loco)