happy administrative professionals day to me ... ???

yea, so, apparently today you are supposed to thank your secretaries and administrative professionals... for... a job well done? Putting up with you?

So my co-workers shocked me by giving me a $100 gift card.
(and a fake rose bush plant to sit on my desk... I guess they thought it needed some sprucing up... har har)

Maybe I shouldn't complain about this place so much...(of course, I rarely complain about the people... the people are generally really fun. And it's the people that gave me this gift, not the corporate business...)

Watched Sunset Boulevard, black & white film also from 1950, last night with Lauren...
Bizarre! Not to mention, a bit perverse or sordid... however still enjoyable. Funny how that is.

top 100s

Weekend was good thanks to getting to talk on the phone with Rhonda and Austin, but I have to say the highlight of my weekend was having Rhiannon (SJC '04) call me out of the blue Sunday night... she had missed me when I didn't come to the annual SJC vs. USNA croquet match... I was really surprised that she thought of me! Totally made my day. The good news is that SJC dominated the match, winning all 5 games plus the 2 exhibition games, AND I hope to be trekking up to Annapolis for graduation in about 3 weeks...

I also learned this weekend that the word nullpunkt is the German word for "absolute zero." Pastor Sartelle was teaching on Ezekiel 37 when dry bones are brought to life, and how the scenario before they come alive is one of despair - the nullpunkt of hope. I've been feeling that way lately, like I'm looking out over a field of dry bones in my life and thinking, there is no way these are coming alive...
But I think God might surprise me, as He usually does. I just keep staring and falling more into despair in the meantime though...

Lauren and I have talked about wanting to read the top 100 novels from the Modern Library Association, and watch the top 100 movies from the American Film Institute. I figure, they may not be the best in my estimation, but it's worth giving them a read or a viewing at least. This past weekend, we watched All About Eve, a film from 1950 about life in the theater in NYC. Very well done film, with enough twists to make it really interesting. We were going to watch another top 100 flick, Sunset Boulevard, but then my VCR broke. Go figure.

(Incase you're curious, I've watched 27 of the top movies and only read 17 of the top novels... sad, I know... Even if I were to watch 2 movies a week, I wouldn't watch the remaining 73 before August... and the books? I was thinking it would be a 5-10 year project, but, well, it appears it will be a bit longer than that at this rate.)

This is a bit more ambitious - the top 100 books of all time...

Is it just me or does anyone else undertake grossly ambitious projects like this?? Anyone else know of some good "top 100" or related lists?? Anyone have their favorites from the lists... or their least favorites??

Ruthless

"You can write any time people will leave you alone and not interrupt you. Or rather you can if you will be ruthless enough about it. But the best writing is certainly when you are in love."
-Ernest Hemingway

Here's my problem. Everyone leaves me alone at work when I write on my blog... but I'm not in love.

But I can be ruthless.

Pull up a chair and lets psycho-analyze my last night's dream. All I'm gonna say is,

Freud my arse...


This dream was not Freudian. Why? Because with Freud, elements in dreams are symbolic. This dream was not symbolic... at least not entirely. It was taken straight from my life - real life. My subconscious wasn't interpreting the conscious; it was connecting events and thoughts from my consciousness through imaginary sequences of events.

The dream itself jumped around. There was no semblance of a whole, and events never seemed to wholly flow and fit together, so I will recount the dream in separate slices for each part.

The first part of the dream involved me being a guy. Yes, I was most definitely a guy. I was also going on a double date. There was an anonymous chick with me, and an anonymous other couple with us. We were walking up the hill around some dumpsters. Our destination was this hole-in-the-wall diner of sorts, where we got milkshakes. The only point to this section of the dream was that I kept thinking, "I'm not a girl, so, I must be a guy... As a guy, I need to be a leader..." and then I contemplated what it meant to show leadership in a relationship. Why this scenario? I have no idea... except for the thought process. I recently (say, past 9 months) have been thinking about what leadership looks like, especially in relation to me being in a potential romantic relationship. I've gathered ideas as I have observed others on what it looks like and what leadership qualities a guy (read: my potential spouse) needs to have.

Ok. Moving on. So what was in my mind about leadership qualities as I strolled up this hill playing the part of a man? Well, I concluded at some point that I needed to take leadership in planning a menu for my household. (whaaaaa??) This is not my actual thought of what a guy's leadership looks like: planning a menu. However, I have been reading a couple websites about planning a menu, and talking with my sister about cooking and she has been pushing me to see that perhaps life would be easier if I had a menu planned out. Clearly this is a personal "leadership" issue, if you will, in myself, as I need to take the initiative and time to figure out what I need to eat (and thus eliminate unnecessary time and minutos in the grocery store, which of course is part of the goal since I loathe going there... as well as pursuing healthy eating.) Just yesterday I was also checking this book out, and am hoping to convince my sister to read it with me... (halfway unrelated, I know.) (On another note, it sure would be nice to not have to plan the menu every week for my future household. Yay for guys who can - and like to! - cook!)

The next section of my dream involved picking up a few dozen hard boiled eggs from this diner (I was still a guy), and then driving off in a jeep wrangler. Why the eggs? Because about 2 weeks ago, I had to ask about 5 people to donate hard boiled eggs for an Easter outreach through my church. I was in charge of showing cute international kids how to dye Easter eggs. I also had to boil 2 dozen eggs. Why the jeep wrangler? Not sure, but my cousin Kenneth has or used to have a jeep wrangler, and, well, it was "suweet!" Maybe, if I were a bachelor, that would be the car I'd envision myself driving. ;)

I also dropped some of the hard boiled eggs on the ground. I'm sure Freud would have something to say about that, but I don't, except that I'm a klutz.

At some point, I became Kristi again. It was around the egg-dropping/jeep wrangling section. Then - I think back in the diner - I was talking to this guy, Brandon, who works at my office. This was ironic because Brandon and I have never in real life communicated more than 5 words to each other. However, this actually really bothers me. It bothers me because he's young, and I think, wouldn't he want to get to know other people his age in such a place? But everytime I see him, he intimidates me with a look of anger and annoyance that seems to be painted on his face. It is actually my goal that before I leave this place, I will at least introduce myself, and maybe see if I can glimpse an expression other than anger and annoyance. This is also made more ironic by the fact that I ran into this guy while out for coffee with Lauren about a month ago. Still... no words were exchanged. So in my dream, we were just natural pals. Then, I proceed to introduce him to my friend Jake who just happens to appear. He probably appeared because 1. I just saw him a few weeks ago in person and 2. He just had his oral last week and I had just recently got an email from him about it. What was more was that I revealed to Brandon that Jake actually worked in the cubicle RIGHT ACROSS from him. Brandon had no idea (probably because he's angry and stays in his cubicle by himself all the time, right?) This was strange because... I could never see Jake working at a motor oil company like I do.

I became aware in my dream that I had forgotten that I was supposed to go to the Gallery Hop with Lauren that night... (which we are supposed to go to tonight)... I had instead ridden in a jeep wrangler, talked to Brandon and Jake, and had espresso with Brian. (Actually, I don't remember any espresso being consumed, but I was at a coffee shop were lots of people were consuming espresso... Not coffee mind you, just espresso...) This is ironic because something similar happened last week but the roles were reversed. However, I am pure evil because not only did I ditch Lauren, but I ditched her for Brian... oooo... backstabbing! I am an evil friend. My dream confirms it.

So yea, Brian was in my dream. (be very afraid.) He was chilling in this espresso-only hip coffee place... it actually resembled a big IKEA showroom. Probably because my mom mentioned to me over dinner last night that she was thinking about going to IKEA in a few weekends. (She also mentioned, well, when asked out of sheer curiosity, that she would panic if I ever thought of getting on a plane to California to meet some guy I met online... and I'd say the panic is understandable... when asked if how she would feel if I took a girlfriend with me she said she would still panic. When asked how she would feel if said guy flew here to see me instead, she said maybe she'd be okay with that... so I'm not my mom, and neither are you, but, you know, I can sympathize with you Lauren...) Everything in this espresso place had that shiny silver metallic look and all the wood had a light finish on it. There were huge windows on every side, overlooking what appeared to be a really dirty river with barges on it, reminiscent of the Mississippi or something out of Huck Finn... again, ironic, because my roommate Jessica just returned my copy of Huck Finn to me a few days ago after she finished reading it. It also struck me that this place was not somewhere I would ever expect to find Brian, albeit I have never actually met him so I wouldn't really know, right?, but it looked way too trendy and commercialized and glossy and aseptic. There seemed to be this contrast between the low-lying river coffee place (trendy, clean, open spaces, yuppie) and the diner on the hill (dirty, crammed, dark lighting, behind dumpsters)... this contrast between wealth and poverty... which just makes me think of The Great Gatsby and this photographic representation of the novel I did when I was in the 11th grade... which again is ironic because I just loaned The Great Gatsby to Jessica after she finished Huck Finn... (It's all making sense...)

Back to Brian in yuppie-espresso-IKEA-look-alike-showroom. He is sitting in a black hooded sweatshirt on a bar stool at the "coffee bar." I walk in and we apparently already know one another. He is waiting on these 4 gentlemen a few stools down to finish their conversation. He is next in line. Two of the gentlemen are selling or pitching something to the other two. The other two, you could say, were "customers." One guy looked like George Plimpton. Probably because I had just read yesterday an interview between Plimpton and Hemingway. The Plimpton look-alike was a psychic, or maybe he was a psychiatrist, or maybe it was both... and Brian was waiting to see him. (I am not implying that Brian is like Will Hunting...) (Or that he should consult a psychic...) The assistant to Plimpton look-alike was holding a mix between a palm pilot and a video iPod. He was showing the two customers a video about why they, too, should consult the psychic. This is also ironic because I had a conversation with my dad about a week ago where I ranted about how lame video iPods are because the screen is so small, and how lame and ridiculous in general hand held TVs and other such devices are that portray images because either it just proves you can't entertain yourself without TV, that you are bound to images or your existence is dependent upon pictures (a la Mao II by Don DeLillo which I also happen to be currently reading...), and that you care nothing of quality since the size of the image ruins any quality that may have hitherto existed. I also think psychics are lame and ridiculous, so we have two ridiculoso elements merging in my dream.

I ask Brian why he is seeing a psychic, and he says because of his anxiety. I tell him "good luck." It is then that I call Lauren on my cell phone... in front of Brian... (I told you I was evil)... and because she's a swell friend who doesn't care that I ditched her to hang out with another of her friends, she says "OK" and agrees to come over to my place at 9:30pm with Andrea to hang out. I remember her laughing at some point in the conversation. Maybe because I can usually make her laugh out of my sheer idiocy and lame-o attempt at humor on the phone. (This is a pretty standard occurrence.)

Then there is a return to diner-on-the-hill. However, the place is closed, barred by diner-esque red sparkly chairs. Disappointing, since all diners should be open 24 hours a day. Mary Duffy is sitting on the stoop. I have no idea why Mary Duffy appeared in my dream. Apparently she worked there... and she worked at 2 other diners, (clearly she has a ubiquitous presence), and at a place called "Nacho Quiche." (Which doesn't exactly sound like the most appetizing eat...)

That is about where the dream ended when my alarm woke me up at 6:12am.

"a late one"

"a late one", originally uploaded by krisde.

here's to the Ale8...

This was my Friday night last week. I went to the grocery store - and I loathe going to the grocery store - and was there for over an hour. This grueling errand was made bearable only by my iPod. As I was leaving, I hear a loud clap of thunder overhead... and when I step outside, there is a strong wind blowing and what appears to be a light mist in the air. No problem, right? Unfortunately, somewhere between the exit of the store and where my car is parked, the floodgates of heaven open... FLOODGATES people! I was soaked in 10 seconds. Not to mention, my very full cart of groceries. It was a miracle I didn't break the eggs after slinging my groceries into my backseat. When I finally get back into the safe, dry confines of my car, I had the impulse to scream, curse, and laugh. I think I did all three. So when I get home, I was itching to kick back and relax, wind down after a stressful hour. So I played around on my my new computer, did a little video chat with Dwight. I drank an Ale8 and listened to my iPod and took self-portraits, while my my hair was still wet and wavy. This made life a lot better. Even if I was at home, by myself, sitting in a cold basement, on a Friday night...

I have off work on Good Friday. (I also missed the "wear your jeans" memo today... sigh.) Friday I am meeting a Belarusian guy from my church, Yura, for a Russian lesson. I was going to host a Seder dinner tonight, but ran out of time to plan it. Instead I will go to a Maundy Thursday service at church.

The word Maundy can be traced back to Old English, French, and Latin (so Merriam-Webster tells me). The Old English signifies "washing" whereas the French and Latin signify "command." This refers, apparently, to the foot washing ceremony that Jesus did, and his command in John 13:34: "Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another."

I don't know if anyone reading this has ever participated in a foot washing ceremony. I have. I was in the 8th grade. I may not even have been a believer at that point in my life. I remember distinctly a friend who refused to participate. She found the idea of washing someone's feet "disgusting" and she was likewise embarassed to have someone else wash her own, potentially smelly, feet. I remember participating in the ceremony. First my feet were washed, and then I washed someone else's next to me. I remember feeling a sense of awkwardness when my feet were washed, akin to "Don't do this! Really, stop kneeling in front of me, it's unnecessary..." - maybe this was also a result of that fact that the youth pastor at this church was the one washing my feet. Yet when I turned and did the same, my attitude was different. I found significance in the event, perhaps bordering on necessity even. It wasn't repulsive to me in any way. It wasn't awkward to me in the way it was before. It was humbling, yes, but I want to say that I even did this ceremony... with gratitude for being able to do it. Perhaps therein lies the necessity... after being served, I could not help but feel compelled to serve another. This also makes me think that sometimes the harder thing is really to let others serve us, than to be the servants. And yet Jesus continually serves us, even now. The question is, will we let Him serve us?

He served us a meal, He gave us His body and blood, He gave us a gift in the form of a Counselor, He gave us life, and He gave us freedom.

So I say, be free.

basking in its manufactured glow

basking in its manufactured glow, originally uploaded by krisde.

did I mention that I got a new computer?

or should I say a new toy?

It is tres fun.

Macbook Pro. The one and only. :)

When at 7,000 feet...

... don't assume that you can walk up stairs or jog for one block without getting out of breath... that is, unless you have been living at 7,000 feet or higher for a while and/or like to take long 10 mile jogs on a regular basis like my friend Freya.

Travels to Santa Fe... well... it was my third visit to this town, and my most lengthy stay yet. I love how stores welcome leashed dogs on their premises, but humans toting beverages are not allowed... or that dogs can come join you for your breakfast or dinner at a local restaurant. The sky is indeed huge. Huge and blue and beautiful. The mountains are a refreshing and captivating sight. The hikes are strenuous, often as a result of making your own trail through the shrubbery, reddish dirt and rocks, that test your drive and lung strength at some 8,000 feet. I read Act I of Waiting for Godot aloud with Lauren in the Houston airport. I was admonished by two 30-something women from Texas - complete strangers - to never get married, after incidentally ending up sharing a meal with them in an airport. Rousseau was more interesting than I had remembered, as I listened to juniors discuss it around the familiar seminar table. Apple blossoms are breathtaking against the backdrop of an adobe building, or a blue, blue sky. I swelled with nostalgia when discussing great books impromptu in a dorm stairwell. Or perhaps when I noticed the greek paradigms in the bathroom stalls for freshmen. I laughed really hard when watching The Graduate with a roomful of people equally amused. Getting hailed upon while soaking in a hot spa was a new experience. (The cucumber water was indeed a nice refresher after our visit to the Ten Thousand Waves.) I managed to parallel park - twice - without causing visible damage to anyone's vehicle... I even got to drive Freya's loveable tri-color Minnesota plated car around town, and enjoy the bumps and dust clouds while sweeping around unpaved mountain roads. I spent quality time with my Holga. I discovered that Whole Foods has really good iced coffee, and lament its absence from my city. I also lament the absence of Trader Joe's. I learned that if you lose your child's blankie, you need to stop apologizing otherwise your kid will never forget this terrible fact, and may never actually forgive you. Neither will the other airline passengers who get to listen to your child's screams for 2 hours. There was shared spontaneous prayer both early and late in the day. Tap water in Santa Fe is actually good. I discussed justice with Jake, faith (the faith, our faith) with Freya, and existentialism with Lauren. I read Act II of Waiting for Godot aloud in an empty common room with Lauren. I was Vladimir, she was Estragon; I was Pozzo, she was Lucky; and I got to call her both Gogo and moron, which amused both of us greatly. I also revisited The Social Contract by Rousseau, read short stories from Dubliners by James Joyce, a treatise on Hope by Josef Pieper, and almost completed a treatise on Love by the same. I was fortunate to have 10 minutes talking to Jared who called from Oregon and got stuck talking to me. I became obsessed with photographing orange couches,












shy friends,












beautiful hands,










shadows and words on the pages of books,











sunlit hair,










and adobe facades.












I forgot about daylight savings... but so did Freya. I ate green chile, middle eastern food while belly dancers invaded my personal space, blue corn tortillas while sitting in a sun room of the Shed with low ceilings and white orchids, a waffle engulfed in whipped cream, and one of the most amazing delicious dinners that I have ever had (and probably the only completely vegan dinner I've ever had...) which is to say, Freya can work wonders with sprouted grain pasta and avocados. I also drank more caffeinated beverages in 4 days than I do in a standard month. I verbally confessed my fixation with plaid pants. Although I conceded to Jake that the ubiquitous Johnnie chairs can eventually become uncomfortable, this is nothing compared to the hip bruises of sleeping on a carpetless dorm floor for 4 nights straight. After everything, whether fun or physically painful (as my sunburnt scalp reminds me), my money and time was well spent. Why? Because fellowship with favorite people, soul friends, and family in Christ - sometimes all one and the same - is very sweet.

And I didn't even miss the NCAA championship. Didn't even give it a thought. I think I am better off for that. Sometimes the Johnnie bubble is a good thing.