Does It Come In Green?

At this point I've been sitting here for about five minutes trying to think about what to write, or at least how to start it. I was just thinking about the party I went to last night. It was the TCL reunion. It was really cool seeing all those people again. I mean, it's kind of weird. They walk in the door, you see them, and then all these memories start flooding into your head. You get this feeling like, "You are real. You aren't just from some distant dream. I really did work with you for three weeks." They are memories made manifest. You see their faces; faces that are familiar, and yet not. You recognize them, but their faces seem new to you.
I'm at a bit of a loss for words right now. I'm thinking too much. Too much that I can't blog about right now. I don't know what I'm going to do for the next few days of winter break. I have some ideas, but no definite plans. I guess I'll see what happens. Laters.

The "Perfect Gift" Conundrum

Have you ever had one of those gifts that you really wanted to get for someone but you couldn't, for the life of ya', find it? I mean, it's the perfect gift. You know that they will love it more than most other things that they could get for Christmas. And, yet, for some reason, no matter where you look you can't find it.
Soon you get the idea that it's been outlawed; banned from the country.
Ah, but you've seen them before in the house of someone you know. So they must be in the country somewhere.
But still, they must have been banished from this county. And with that ban comes the added line of:

Only one store in each town within this county is allowed to hold these things. But none of those stores are allowed to carry those items with this specific description. (see appendix D for specifications on the permissible objects, see appendix G to find out how your store may file an application for a carrying permit for this item)

So what happens is you look in every store in your town that might have what you're looking for. However, only one store has the kind of thing you want, and it doesn't fit the specifications you are looking for.
Then you go to the next town over--same story. The one place that has what you are looking for doesn't have the exact one you are looking for.
This is my conspiracy theory. So what do you do? I mean, what do you do if you aren't able to order it online?

'Tis The Season To Lozenge

There is this illness going around that attacks the throat and the head. It gives you a headache, makes you feel woozy, and makes all your muscles ache. It also does something to the back of your throat. This illness has struck my house. Just about everyone here has had it now. I got it yesterday. My mom got it today. My little brother had it a few days ago. I don't know if my dad contracted it at some time (he didn't tell us if he did).
Right now I'm pretty much over the head and muscle aches. The only trouble I have left is in the throat. You can't really tell that anything is wrong with it until you swallow. That's when it feels like your throat has been shredded up.
I had to perform at the Grotto last night. I stood up on that stage for almost an hour with my head killing me, my muscles just wanting to fall out from under me, and my throat yelling "What do you think you're doing? Can't you tell I need a break?" It was in this state that I had to sing and play my trumpet. Somehow I was able to sing clearly and well. My trumpet playing wasn't too bad either. I lost all feeling in my toes just from standing up there for so long.
Why is it that my least favorite performances are at the Grotto? The first year I sang there I got so light headed that I had to leave the stage for the rest of the performance. The next year the same thing happened, only I was able to return to the performance after a little while. The next two years weren't nearly as bad, but each time I feared that I would end up having to leave the stage again. This year I didn't faint and I didn't have to leave the stage, but I almost wished that I did.
Oh well, the Christmas performance season is over: my last one for high school. After this it will be college Christmas season performances. I don't know if I'll ever get the opportunity to perform at the Grotto again.

Here A Word. There A Word....

How is it that I am capable of writing the things that a have placed in the blog that I call my "Home Page". If you knew me--some of you might--you would know that, though I may be a real talker at times, I am usually very reserved. And I hardly ever, in person, talk about the serious kinds of things that I post. How do I do this? Why is it that words come out so much easier when they are typed on a computer than when they are spoken to a friend.
There might be some comfort in the physical distance between myself and you, the readers. I can say all I want without having to see your expressions as you find these things out about me. I don't have to worry about a particular set of ears receiving this news. It's just easier.
Perhaps there is something in the writing process that brings it out. I know that as words pour from my mind onto paper--or in this case onto a computer screen--my mind is able to get a better grasp on them and put multiple ideas together. There is something about the writing process that helps me think about ideas in a greater perspective. Most of the 'deep' things that I write come to me as I am writing. I step up to the key board with no idea what I am going to write about, and before I know it I have a novel of contemplation. The ideas and thoughts come to me as I write out my thoughts. Usually the biggest realizations start with the smallest thoughts. "I am tired. Why am I tired? blah bla bla blah blah blah..." And out comes some big long thing about where I am in my tired state. Writing gets my brain moving.
I know that I don't usually get these kind of ideas and thoughts while I'm talking with people. In fact, usually when I come to someone with the intent of talking about something important I have been planning what I am going to say for the last few days...maybe weeks...sometimes months. Yet, for some reason, when I actually get to talk with them I find myself lacking in the vocalization department. I come with lots to say, and leave having explained it in a few simple words.
Hmmm. I see a pattern. When I come to blog: I come with nothing in mind to write, and end up writing large amounts of information and thought.
When I come to talk: I come with large amounts of information and thoughts to say, but end up saying very little.
I can just see the wheels spinning in Robbie's head right now. There might be something about expectation in here somewhere.
I come in with high expectation, I leave with a low yield.
I come in with low expectation, I leave with a high yield.
The yield is inversely proportionate to the expectation.
Well, whatever it is, I'm here to stay, folks. So, enjoy. Laters.

Wasn't It On A Tuesday?

You want posting? I'll show you posting! I'll post like I've never posted before! Have I ever posted before? Hmmm...I might have to think about that...
What was I saying?
Oh, Yeah! As I was about to say. It doesn't matter how long you sit next to the conveyor belt, it will always rotate at the same rate. That is assuming that no prankster gets into the wiring and hot-wires the belt for hyper-velocity rotation.
To day as a bunch of us were descending the staircase from the youth room at my church someone asked, "Why is it so cold up here?"
Seeing my cue I piped in with, "Well, you see..." and then waited to see if any of my friends would pick up on the fact that I was about to go into a bunch of scientific mumbo-jumbo. I really did try to think about it so that I could explain how the temperature control worked, but my brain was to tired to actually think of anything.
Anyway, it took about five seconds or so while descending that staircase before any of my friends tried to shut me down. I hadn't even said anything for five seconds and they still responded with, "No Kin. No scientific talk." or something like that. I can't remember the exact words. I don't know if Anna said anything. I know Stephanie did, but my brain has already created two scenarios in which Anna is and isn't saying anything in response to my comment.
My brain does that a lot. I have many different memories of one instance. And each memory depicts different character's involvement, and different reactions. Basically I don't know how things really went down because I have created a false reality in which things happened a little bit differently. This is why I claim to have faulty memory. I can remember something, but that doesn't mean that that's really what happened.
Don't get me wrong, I can remember a lot of things. But there are some things that aren't quite there. Like, there was that one time when...no, that wasn't it...let me think for a moment...
What was I talking about? Oh well. Laters.

Going Up?

So, I was thinking. I was reading something about elevators. I don't care what makes them go up and down. It'd be cool if they had one that went side to side for really big buildings. What I want to know is:

What do elevators do in their time off?

What do they do when no one is pushing their buttons? Do they just go up and down? Do they stay on the last floor they visited? Do they stay at the bottom floor? Do they prefer the pent house level? What do they do?
Just a thought for you to chew on.

Are We There Yet?

Do you see it? It's right there. You mean you can't see it? It's not two feet in front of you. Oh! There it goes! Ah, you missed it. It was pretty cool. You don't get to see something like that every day. And apparently you don't ever get to see anything like that. I told you to look, but no. You couldn't see it. Oh well. Better luck next time.

So I've been thinking lately. I don't know that I can pin-point one thought though. I've been thinking about Christmas. I've been thinking about relationships. My sister is coming out to this Podunk-vill every week now to help out with my youth group. I've been thinking about college. I've been thinking about this town. Did you know that I can walk from one end of this town to the other and back in under an hour? It's true. I've done it. I love this town. I've been thinking about the fact that I'm going to have to leave this town for a time in order to go to college. I've been thinking about how I'm going to have to leave my relationships for a time to go to college. I've been thinking about all the new relationships I will develop at college. I've been thinking about having a British accent at college (hehe). I probably won't though. I'm too honest. That and I don't have a smooth British accent.
I've been thinking about a lot. I don't know how it will all work out, but would I really want to know?
It's kind of like this thing that three guys were debating about at camp (myself being one of them). We were arguing whether or not it would be good to know what girls are thinking about us. I was on the side of it probably being a dangerous thing to know. I mean, sure there are times when you may really want to know something of what they are thinking, but I know that I really don't want to know. Cause if I were to find out what they were thinking--no matter good or bad--it would bug me somehow. There are lots of other reasons. If it's really something important then you might as well ask. Otherwise, it's just a burden no matter what the info is.
Anyway, I guess my point is, there are just some things that are better left to temporary ignorance. If we knew what was going to happen to us, would that make us happy, or would it only freak out, and depress us or turn us into intolerable snobs. The future is scary enough when we don't know what is going to happen. Why would we want to then take the fun of suprises away just to find out that we die by slipping in the bathroom, hitting out head on the tub, falling into comma, waking up in a hospital two weeks later, and being squeezed literally do death by our cousin, Rupert.
We don't know what is going to happen. But that is what makes life exciting and interesting. It also keeps us from loosing out desire to go on. No life is perfect. If you knew all the bad things that were going to happen to you before you were ready for them, you probably wouldn't want to give yourself the chance to get to them.
But that is where the great part comes. It's true that everyone goes through tough things in their life. But we grow as we go through those times. Ten years from now you might be faced with something that would put you into shock if it were to occur now, but between now and then there are smaller things that happen, or maybe bigger things that you know how to handle. We learn from our experiences. We grow toward the goal. Why would we want to see what is going to happen later? We have things to deal with now.
I've been doing a lot of thinking. So I'm ready for a break. Laters.

Only The Beginning

It's Thursday. School was canceled on Wednesday due to 'extreme weather conditions'. There was a little ice on the roads. So, after turning in my paper I had to wait two whole days to get it back with all the marks and grades on it. Have I ever told you about my writing problem? It seems that I am extremely good at writing A- papers. Seriously, I write A- papers. Never do I write B papers. But I haven't been able to reach the level that is 'A'. No matter how hard I try, it is always just beyond my reach.
So anyway, about that paper--the one that was written, lost, supposedly found, and then found to be lost again, and then written again, and turned in on Tuesday--I got it back today just before 5th period had started. I looked at it, studied the score to see what it was lacking, looked at the score again, looked through the paper to see what he had marked, and looked at the score again. Finally I pulled out my handy-dandy calculator and punch in the numbers. 142.5/150 . That equals 95%. 95% is the exact changing point between A- and 'A'. I had in my hands an 'A' paper. An 'A' paper that I had written. An 'A' paper that had been written, lost, supposedly found, found to be lost again, written again, and turned in on Tuesday almost one week after the due date. God had given me an 'A' paper. I have no idea what I would have gotten had I been able to turn in the other paper. I have not guaranty that it would have been worse than this one. However, what had been given me was something that had been kept from me for so long. Until this paper God had not given me the capacity to produce such work. Now, though it may have taken a little more work and a lot of perseverance, He produced, through me, something I have never been capable of.
Call it luck. Call it talent (I call it that too, but the talent was given to me). I prefer to call it the work of God. Some people say "If the God of the Bible is the true God, why don't we see miracles like He performs in the Old Testament?" To this I would say 'We do.' We see the miracles of God every day. We see him providing for the needs of everyone daily. We see him working in miraculous ways through people. Not only does He do his work, He does it in perfect time. Some may say that He could have waited a day to let my floppy disc fry. I say that it happened at precisely the write time. If it had been taken from me the day previous I would have had to cram an entire paper into one day of work before the deadline. As it was there was no such option. The teacher knew that I had a paper just that day, so my story was all the more plausible. I don't know all that He is doing through messing up the disc before the paper was turned in. But I do know a few things that have come of it.
He has tested me, and I have, through His grace, persevered.
There is so much more I could say. However, I'll leave it for another time. Laters.