Wednesday, May 30

Teamwork


This couple. And this song. Because they're a team.




I want something like this. Though I realize how I come to it would probably be different, much different: I haven't done any solo gallivanting across the country lately, so far as I know Excalibur isn't missing (leastways, it doesn't have to be returned to Arthur any time soon), and one could hope that I won't be at odds with my future spouse the moment we meet (nor him trying to get rid of me).

But some things might be the same: I can prattle on a bit, he might be blind, and we might sing together. One can never tell ahead of time for sure.


If you're single or dating, what characteristic do you want most in your potential marriage relationship? If you are married, what characteristic of you and your spouse together do you enjoy most?


Wednesday, May 23

Further Evidence that I Am an Introvert...and Loved

Gather 'round. While the thoughts are fresh in my mind, I will stay up late to tell you a story...


I go to a community group. It's a Bible study group with a strong focus on 1) God's Word and 2) being a tight-knit community of brothers and sisters in Christ. I love this group. We were going to get together on the evening of my birthday, and the lady of the leading couple sends me an email that I see in the morning. She wants to make me a cake, and would chocolate be okay? Of course I tell her chocolate would be fabulous and thank you kindly. Such a sweet gesture.

Then, the same lovely lady, a woman I graduated with and admire, sends a notice to the whole group, some twenty people, that it's my birthday and there will be cake.

Now I start to panic. I'm already feeling the spotlight. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a little limelight like anyone else, but I'm fine with it staying at little (and there are some situations [dance circle] in which I'd rather have none). So my little "don't look at me" mind starts to worry that, well, everyone will be looking at me.

And yet, at the same time, I know this is a heartfelt gesture of love toward me. So it's not all bad.

The day proceeds with a couple errands and life is fine. The only pressure I feel is getting everything done and making sure dinner is ready before I have to leave. Nothing abnormal there. There's meat in the fridge, I fix some instant mashed potatoes, eat a little, and head out the door.

I'm hoping for simple and not a lot of attention on me. There will be cake--awesome--for everyone, and I'll get to see these dear people, and we'll hang out and have a good, normal time.

I'd left the house a little later than I'd wanted, so I'm the last to arrive. I open the door, and one of my friends jokingly yells (but not really) "Surprise!" I laugh, wishing my mouth would function so I could say his name in greeting, but no words come out. (Yeah.) I am welcomed and well wished, and find my seat on the comfy couch next to another dear heart and able to see each person I have come to love and am learning to love better. Life is beautiful.

After we read through the book of Hebrews out loud (yes, the entire book--it was great) out comes the cake. I think someone mentions singing the birthday song, and I start my silent, head-shaking protest. You know, the one you mean, but don't, but really do? Well, Jaimie asks me if I really don't want everyone to sing the song, and I pivot my hand like a see-saw. I don't want to offend, and I know as a birthday well-wisher how fun it is to sing to the birthday guy or gal, but could it just not be about me? Or could I go into another room? Or better yet, let's not and say we did.

Well, as things are wont to do, delays happen. I think I've escaped and before the cake is cut I get a chance to get up from the couch and make sure I see it. Chocolate cake, a solid white icing background, and green-blue lettering of "Happy Birthday Dotty". (Did anyone get a picture? Jaimie, it was beautiful.)

Here, my memory fades. I don't remember why I didn't sit right back down. I don't think the cake was cut right then, either. I think there was still delay, then the song is brought up again. Now that I'm standing and it seems that all eyes are looking in the cake's and my direction, I would like to just hide for a minute. Yes, for some reason standing is worse. I'm too tall for all eyes on me when I'm standing.

Someone starts the song. At the time I could have pointed out the guilty party. Now I'm not sure who it was. Then the little living room rings with happy voices singing happy birthday to me.

My first reaction? I turn around and almost head into the bathroom to hide. I stop and turn back around because I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. I step toward the couch thinking that if I sit down at least that will be better. But I can't get there easily, and to get there anyway would make further scene, and I would likely trip and fall...obviously not preferred. So I stand, and try to look around the room (I think) at the smiling faces of friends who love me. I don't know how it's possible to stand six feet tall and will oneself to shrink without moving, but I did it. I'm grinning, and I mean it, but I'm also embarrassed a little. In the middle of the song, one friend sings, sings that my face is turning red. I can believe it.

But I guess that's par for the course. The song over, my seat reclaimed, the cake cut and shared (yummy), life is back to normal in my beautiful little community.

There truly are worse things than being surrounded by delight and love expressed. And I'm glad I don't have to hide from these things. I'm glad that these friends see me, know me, love me, and, yes, tease me. They've seen me weep; they've seen joy bubble out of me. They've seen the average days, too. They're there. And I really couldn't ask for more.
A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.
-John 13:34-35
 I see this in our group, and I'm grateful for it. Thank you, all, for how you love me.

Friday, May 18

Loud Hollow

The pressing silence.

Sometimes, after an hour or so of excitement I want nothing more than a little solitary quiet time. Usually with music playing quietly (or maybe something bouncy to get me dancing), but sometimes, rare times I prefer no music, no major background noise except maybe for a clock (why is the shifting of the seconds hand soothing?).

And sometimes after an hour or so of excitement, I can't stand to slow down and be quiet. The loud hum of the refrigerator is the only sound. I might as well be all alone in this house. And nothing of particular excitement or interaction is going on in the social media (Facebook) realm. I tried reading blogs, but just couldn't settle on anything to peruse. I thought about working on one of my stories, but I think my head (and heart) doesn't want to work that hard right now.

I need to recharge, but I don't want to be alone. But I'm not playing on Facebook or leaving comments on blogs. I suppose there is the phone, but it's hard to have companionable silence on an audio-only communication device.

The house is too quiet. It feels empty and dark (well, most of the lights are off), which makes me feel empty even though I just finished my pizza and tea.

I think what I feel right now is sad, but I can't think of a reason for it. I know I'm tired. A nap has sounded beautiful all day, and the one I got was kinda nice (though I don't think my feet ever warmed up, sigh).

I want to be fixed. But there's nothing wrong with me.

I guess maybe I feel lonely. Isolated. I just had some fun with some kids who are full of energy and excitement for life. I wish I hadn't let things beat me down so much over the years so that I wouldn't frequent this lonely little hollow. I wish I shared the kids' optimism, owning it like I used to when I was younger. I wish I hadn't misplaced my copy of Tangled. That would set me to rights. Though it is a romance, and I wish I wasn't single. But then, I also enjoy being single. Another conundrum.

Seems like this moment is filled with conundrums.


Thankfully, Pandora just kicked in.



*Post publishing addition: as soon as I hit the "Publish" button, "Just Haven't Met You Yet" by Michael Bublé came on my Pandora station.
Now that's timing.

Monday, May 14

A Squishy Pile of Dismissal

I don't blog much. That's because I don't think I have much to say. And if I do think of something, I have to have essay style and A+ grade quality before I'm willing to hit that frightening, orange "publish" button. As such, I don't blog much, I have few readers (fewer who aren't related to me), and conversations don't really happen in the comments section.

But I love people and I love talking with them. I love sharing myself (no, really), just not in loud, crowded rooms where everyone wants to say ten things and I figure I'll let them have their piece and if we get to me we do and if not, well then, oh well.

Yup.

But...this here blog is my piece. And I can say what I want on it. People may or may not want to read it (I'd really rather write things that offer at least mild interest), but if they do then we might get to talking about something. And that would be great!

I recently posted some (far from all) of my thoughts on The Hunger Games, and I was pushing back terror of what people might think or say of me or to me. I hate being told I'm wrong. Hate it. Surely you can relate? And, somehow I have this emotional struggle when someone tells me, not that I'm wrong, but that there's more to it and I haven't covered the subject wholly (A+ exhaustive essay, right?), I think that somehow reflects on my value and on how well others think about me.

Oops. Why do emotions like to pendulum swing when thoughts stay fairly steady?

I guess I haven't figured out how to use this medium yet. I've tried one approach after another...then I get distracted from what I wanted to do with the blog.

But maybe I don't exactly have to do anything with it. I'd like it to be like a journal...but then I always had a hard time expressing my real thoughts and emotions to my own, locked up, hidden journal, too. I'd like it to be like sitting down with a friend or two and chatting over a tasty drink or box of cookies.

I want to be genuine, and I think I am...but I wonder how much I come across as fake?

Well, today I don't have any answers, just a squishy pile of dismissal contained within my body. Maybe someday I'll get it; maybe someday I won't be afraid; maybe someday I'll have confidence in my voice--in large, public (though potentially obscure) formats.

A girl can dream. Better yet, a girl can look forward to a brighter future.

Here's to that!


Wednesday, May 9

The Hunger Games

www.checkthefilm.com
 May The Odds...

The Hunger Games. A popular book, trilogy, and now movie. I have a lot of thoughts on the books, and I'm still somewhat processing the movie. It's a big story. And it's also not. What makes it great? What makes it not? And what do we do with that?

I have no idea what to tell you to do with the books, movie, or overall story. I don't know what to do with it myself. All I can do is share some of my mixed thoughts.

For starters, it's brilliant. No, really. The books, in first-person point of view, show us an intimate, in-depth look at a world that feels like the Great Depression + nuclear war aftereffects + ruling politics gone terribly, terribly wrong. And since it's in first person, we get just about every single thought and feeling that Katniss experiences. (I even used it in a paper I recently re-found as a useful book for examining the reality of facing one's own death.) And the use of present tense amplifies the immediacy and intensity of every. single. thing.

And the movie is a pretty great adaption of the story from the print media to audio/visual media. The actors portrayed their characters spot on. The additional points of view of the gamemakers, President Snow, and Rue's district fleshes out the world with things that wouldn't have translated from the book otherwise. The core conflict of the games is lived out. The subtext conflict of fighting corruption is shown a little more than in the book.

Some things in the movie were a little weird, like the crossover of worlds when Katniss has delusions from the Tracker Jacker venom. And, honestly I was really looking forward to the visual portrayal of Katniss' costumes, Cinna's masterpieces...and was disappointed. They were nice, but for me a little of a let down. And we didn't get to see Haymitch's character arc as clearly, even though we saw him working behind the scenes (a nice touch). But all in all, those things 1) aren't enough to detract from the movie as a whole and 2) are a part of the media.

It's Good, Or Is It?

It's a compelling story. Katniss obviously has a lot of determination and bravery. Peeta carries his compassion with him into the arena. Rue and Prim motivate Katniss to action. Haymitch...well, Haymitch is one of my favorite characters, sweetheart. He actually has a defined arc of character growth. The worlds are clearly distinct, and the complications are simple enough to follow while still making things interesting and hard for the characters. So what's the problem? What bothers me about the book and movie?

1.       As much as the characters distaste the concept of the Hunger Games to begin with, they follow through with it, not even really trying to stem the symptoms, much less trying to stop the problem.
2.       It's a rather draining read or viewing experience.
3.       Katniss' defiance is mostly accidental.
4.       And there is a distinct lack of hope. Throughout. Even the happy ending (in the book) has immediate hopelessness and loss to it. (The movie's happy ending felt like, "Yes, we 'won.' But it wasn't enough.")

And that last one, even more than the others individually, gives me pause. Put these all together, and by the end of the story, whether book or movie, I feel hollow, even dirty. I feel like I have been torn down just about as much as Katniss has been. But it's not because I've literally gone through everything she has, and it's not because I relate with her 100%. I like her okay, and I understand a degree of where she's coming from, her motivations, and her actions. But I'm very different from her and get frustrated along the way.

What Kind of Message?

It's not a happy book. Not every book has to be happy; I get that. But the "no hope" laced throughout and coloring the ending is, I think, damaging to people. People need hope. It's damaging to me. I need hope in order to get up in the morning. This work of fiction tends to sap it from me, translating into real life where I interact with real people, oozing a loss and hopelessness through my actions by taking root in my thoughts and feelings.

What is the message of The Hunger Games? What do you take away from it? Can you see how things could be better (and if you can, why couldn't/didn't the author?)? Is it a warning story? Watch out, or this will happen to our world (it is, after all, futuristic United States of America). Is that Suzanne Collins' goal? Is that enough?

Now we have to ask what we do with the story. It does get us to think, I'll give it that. Where do our thoughts take us?

And Happy Hunger Games

There are many more things I could say about The Hunger Games. Things I like, and things that concern me. And I could continue on into Catching Fire and Mockingjay. But for now, I think this is plenty.

Do you have a reply for my concerns? What are your thoughts on The Hunger Games, both book and movie?

Wednesday, May 2

Speak Up





I've had something on and off my mind for a while, and it's recently come up again. I've thought about blogging about it for months, but never got up the nerve to talk about it. My thoughts had been fairly organized, but now it's been a while so I have to do some re-thinking. But it's time. I may not be liked for my stance, I may get zero feedback, but it's important enough that it's time I step forward and say my peace.

I'll be back as soon as I can get my thoughts organized enough to share.