Here's the deal, people. I am writing again to humor you and mostly - myself. I think that writing is a great discipline that people pay to little attention to. Sitting where I am now, I can't help but see the importance of it based upon where I want to go. My life has so many lessons that could be fruitful for others. Or, I might write something ridiculous that will brighten your day.
So...
Here I start. Well, I kinda started a few days ago. Just go with it. I take ideas, criticism, and any other words put into an order that the common American can understand. Right. Next time, I promise more depth, or something entertaining.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The Humor of Discipline
This coffee shop is different – Mead’s Corner. Not only is it fair trade (which is super awesome), but it’s down town in Wichita. It only weirds me out because the last coffee shop I was in that was located in downtown anywhere was in Chicago, and there was a never ending string of people and cars flying by the window I was seated by (Ok, it was a Starbucks. Go figure, right?). Life moved quickly. The slight but steady elevation in my heart rate made it seem more chaotic than it actually was. I’m too small town to be in a city like that over a long period of time.
Sitting in that downtown Starbucks… across the street from another one… I was living a stubborn discipline. I didn’t know it was an act of discipline at the time, but I knew that I was being stubborn almost to an unbearable point for the recipient of the fall out. That’s almost her own fault, though. She took the job. Anywho, I digress. The trip to Chicago was very much destined to be life-altering. How? I had no idea at the time, and I still am uncovering different ways the Lord used that trip to bless the hell out of a number of people.
About 24 hours ago, I realized something else – completely unrelated to the trip – I am severely out of shape; or in an obvious physical shape (round). I did maybe 45 minutes of work and I wanted to pass out while strapped by my lungs to a tank of oxygen. Here’s the kicker. I have been like that before… out of shape. I just had the discipline to push through the pain and lack of oxygen that wasn’t being fed to my already fatigued muscles. I don’t miss college soccer. So, I’m driving home (still sucking wind) and I realize that mentally I have become lax and way below par for a course designed and played only by me (Such is life…). I had lost the mental determination to keep myself on task, and do the hard stuff and not give up. I lost the discipline. Damn it.
Enter: The idea that stemmed from an oxygen-deprived brain with connections (like the mafia, but way more internal and holy) to a soul searching for truth. In most areas of my life – mainly the ones that mean something to me – I am lacking a great deal of discipline to make my dreams a reality by the grace of God. Check it. Chicago was a vision given to me over a year before I actually went. I didn’t even pick up reading Scripture again until I was there, and even now I struggle to daily motivate myself to read even a few passages of the Word. It’s not a lack of motivation. It’s a lack of discipline. I lack the ability to sit and make myself grow because I let myself get lazy. I can’t point fingers to anyone but myself for falling into such horrid shape.
Here’s the awesome good news: I figured it out. Ha! I mean seriously. I knew something was missing, but really? Could it really be something as simple as discipline? I am sometimes too ridiculous for the term “ridiculous.” I deserve a medal for that, or maybe a cookie. I like cookies.
So, this is Phase 1 (out of a bigger number than one. I’m not sure how many phases there will be. Maybe it’s more like steps in a rehab program? Hello, I’m Lisa and I’m addicted to the idea of being awesome, I just can’t make myself go through with everything that comes with it. Nah… it’s by phase) of my Anti-Ridiculousness Campaign. Phase 1: Figure out what I can do to be less ridiculous. Check. Phase 2: Draw up a plan of action that doesn’t really need to be a plan of action, but give me some idea of what I should do with my schedule and how things could work. Half a check. Phase 3: Don’t suck, just do the damn thing (word to your mother, Vanilla Ice!). Imaginary check.
Ok, so those aren’t the actual phases, but it’s something I just drew up in the last 10 minutes or so. Give me time to put my ideas into words that aren’t ridiculous. Seriously. I need to rediscover the art of discipline in every day life. So, here goes nothing.
Sitting in that downtown Starbucks… across the street from another one… I was living a stubborn discipline. I didn’t know it was an act of discipline at the time, but I knew that I was being stubborn almost to an unbearable point for the recipient of the fall out. That’s almost her own fault, though. She took the job. Anywho, I digress. The trip to Chicago was very much destined to be life-altering. How? I had no idea at the time, and I still am uncovering different ways the Lord used that trip to bless the hell out of a number of people.
About 24 hours ago, I realized something else – completely unrelated to the trip – I am severely out of shape; or in an obvious physical shape (round). I did maybe 45 minutes of work and I wanted to pass out while strapped by my lungs to a tank of oxygen. Here’s the kicker. I have been like that before… out of shape. I just had the discipline to push through the pain and lack of oxygen that wasn’t being fed to my already fatigued muscles. I don’t miss college soccer. So, I’m driving home (still sucking wind) and I realize that mentally I have become lax and way below par for a course designed and played only by me (Such is life…). I had lost the mental determination to keep myself on task, and do the hard stuff and not give up. I lost the discipline. Damn it.
Enter: The idea that stemmed from an oxygen-deprived brain with connections (like the mafia, but way more internal and holy) to a soul searching for truth. In most areas of my life – mainly the ones that mean something to me – I am lacking a great deal of discipline to make my dreams a reality by the grace of God. Check it. Chicago was a vision given to me over a year before I actually went. I didn’t even pick up reading Scripture again until I was there, and even now I struggle to daily motivate myself to read even a few passages of the Word. It’s not a lack of motivation. It’s a lack of discipline. I lack the ability to sit and make myself grow because I let myself get lazy. I can’t point fingers to anyone but myself for falling into such horrid shape.
Here’s the awesome good news: I figured it out. Ha! I mean seriously. I knew something was missing, but really? Could it really be something as simple as discipline? I am sometimes too ridiculous for the term “ridiculous.” I deserve a medal for that, or maybe a cookie. I like cookies.
So, this is Phase 1 (out of a bigger number than one. I’m not sure how many phases there will be. Maybe it’s more like steps in a rehab program? Hello, I’m Lisa and I’m addicted to the idea of being awesome, I just can’t make myself go through with everything that comes with it. Nah… it’s by phase) of my Anti-Ridiculousness Campaign. Phase 1: Figure out what I can do to be less ridiculous. Check. Phase 2: Draw up a plan of action that doesn’t really need to be a plan of action, but give me some idea of what I should do with my schedule and how things could work. Half a check. Phase 3: Don’t suck, just do the damn thing (word to your mother, Vanilla Ice!). Imaginary check.
Ok, so those aren’t the actual phases, but it’s something I just drew up in the last 10 minutes or so. Give me time to put my ideas into words that aren’t ridiculous. Seriously. I need to rediscover the art of discipline in every day life. So, here goes nothing.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
OK, I'm listening...
Now what? I go to Chicago, make my case, and then...? I desire to know the truth... but only when it comes to knowing if what i dream can become a reality. Damn this stubborn heart. My mind won't let it grow, but it still fuels the curiosity that drives my desire to attach myself once again to you. Just, be patient with me, and make your voice familiar to me once again. I forgot where I left you, and now I can't find my way back with out a hint. So....
Marco?!
Marco?!
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
I love Imogen Heap's Music
This is an update for Matt. More to follow shortly, because it's already 1.15 am.
Focker, out.
Focker, out.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
A Dream
Unsettling. That's how I'd put it. His eyes were wide, cold and full of evil. He was tall - 6 ft or so - with a well chiseled figure, and clean cut lines. He had brown hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to cut through you when you looked at them. His dress was very respectable. He wore dark chocolate colored pants, shoes, and button down dress shirt. His vest however, was slightly different. The outer color was the same, but the under side was gold.
At first, I payed no attention to him. I was in the lobby getting a snack. Yet for some reason or another, I left the theater, and he grabbed me. "You're coming with me," he hissed. He turned me around so I could face the building since we were now in the parking lot. He held my by the head/neck, and coldly said, "You're going to enjoy this." As I looked up, a fire ball accompanied by a loud explosion rocked the theater where my friends had once been sitting. I watched in horror as people fled the building. I pushed myself away from the man, and began to run. He looked at me over his shoulder with a slight laugh and evil grin that said there's no use running. He was right.
Somehow, he caught me again and I witnessed my friends die in that fire ball again and again. Each time I would find it harder to escape, and then he would catch me again. Until the last time, I found a way to defend myself. After I broke free of his grip, I ran around to the front of the building, and laid flat in the parking lot. There were dead all around me, and those faking dead. I made my way over to one guy who was faking dead and crawled under him. I asked him if he had a gun. He said yes. I pulled his 1982 vest back and pulled out his gun. Using the vest as a shield, that man came into view, and I took aim. I shot twice, hitting him in the heart. He didn't die. He simply looked at me with a soul full of evil and hate and said, "Get her."
I took off running and made it into a cab. When the cab driver turned around, he was a tree (it's a dream! There's gotta be something weird...). I looked down at the chainsaw in my hand and attacked the tree and got the heck out of Dodge. Some time had passed, but the Man was still after me. I knew he was. So, I was hiding out when a couple of my friends found me hiding under a counter. When they bent down to say hi, I killed them. Everyone who I saw had those eyes of hate. Everyone I saw was that Man. I was on the run for what would seem like forever.
Suddenly, I was back in the theater and the movie had just ended. I looked around, and was still freaking out. I looked over at Brianna and put her arm around my shoulder and said, "I'm staying with you tonight," still obviously scared.
Then I woke up. If I hadn't have done so, I knew that Brianna would have been killed by this man. I didn't want to play.
This dream felt so real, like I had lived it. Had I? Maybe. The man was so familiar. He seemed like a guy who would be the most amazing guy ever had he not been evil. Needless to say, I haven't been able to sleep well since Sunday/Monday. What scares me, is that this was my portrait of satan (that's me using the middle finger of grammar and putting the devil on notice), and I felt how real he was. The familiarity I felt about him screams at me to do something, but everytime I try, I fail. Hence the replay of the nightmare several times. The devil is moving - saints be warned!
This has been an interesting week. I promise something a little more cheery next post. As for now, I must go clean out the van before I get dad. It's dirty... and it's my fault. :) 5 days to the opening game of the Olympics (for Womens socceer). Anyone want to come to Haysville to watch a game @ 6.45 in the morning?
At first, I payed no attention to him. I was in the lobby getting a snack. Yet for some reason or another, I left the theater, and he grabbed me. "You're coming with me," he hissed. He turned me around so I could face the building since we were now in the parking lot. He held my by the head/neck, and coldly said, "You're going to enjoy this." As I looked up, a fire ball accompanied by a loud explosion rocked the theater where my friends had once been sitting. I watched in horror as people fled the building. I pushed myself away from the man, and began to run. He looked at me over his shoulder with a slight laugh and evil grin that said there's no use running. He was right.
Somehow, he caught me again and I witnessed my friends die in that fire ball again and again. Each time I would find it harder to escape, and then he would catch me again. Until the last time, I found a way to defend myself. After I broke free of his grip, I ran around to the front of the building, and laid flat in the parking lot. There were dead all around me, and those faking dead. I made my way over to one guy who was faking dead and crawled under him. I asked him if he had a gun. He said yes. I pulled his 1982 vest back and pulled out his gun. Using the vest as a shield, that man came into view, and I took aim. I shot twice, hitting him in the heart. He didn't die. He simply looked at me with a soul full of evil and hate and said, "Get her."
I took off running and made it into a cab. When the cab driver turned around, he was a tree (it's a dream! There's gotta be something weird...). I looked down at the chainsaw in my hand and attacked the tree and got the heck out of Dodge. Some time had passed, but the Man was still after me. I knew he was. So, I was hiding out when a couple of my friends found me hiding under a counter. When they bent down to say hi, I killed them. Everyone who I saw had those eyes of hate. Everyone I saw was that Man. I was on the run for what would seem like forever.
Suddenly, I was back in the theater and the movie had just ended. I looked around, and was still freaking out. I looked over at Brianna and put her arm around my shoulder and said, "I'm staying with you tonight," still obviously scared.
Then I woke up. If I hadn't have done so, I knew that Brianna would have been killed by this man. I didn't want to play.
This dream felt so real, like I had lived it. Had I? Maybe. The man was so familiar. He seemed like a guy who would be the most amazing guy ever had he not been evil. Needless to say, I haven't been able to sleep well since Sunday/Monday. What scares me, is that this was my portrait of satan (that's me using the middle finger of grammar and putting the devil on notice), and I felt how real he was. The familiarity I felt about him screams at me to do something, but everytime I try, I fail. Hence the replay of the nightmare several times. The devil is moving - saints be warned!
This has been an interesting week. I promise something a little more cheery next post. As for now, I must go clean out the van before I get dad. It's dirty... and it's my fault. :) 5 days to the opening game of the Olympics (for Womens socceer). Anyone want to come to Haysville to watch a game @ 6.45 in the morning?
Monday, July 28, 2008
Battle Royale
I don't have the most exciting life right now, but I'm ok with that. In my awesome state of unemployment, I have done a lot of things that I wouldn't have been able to do if I were working (Ok, that's not true. It just seems like I wouldn't have the time to pull of the shenanigans that I have if I had a job). This afternoon while reading some posts on this awesome blog, I was thinking about he Olympic games of the average college student. Then I got to thinking about the movie Revenge of the Nerds where there's some bizarre competition to see which fraternity/sorority team was going to be the chair of the Greek Council for the next year.
So, in the spirit of the ensuing kick off to the Olympic games in Beijing, I decided to come up with my own games that should be adopted and played between colleges of all sizes. Mind you, I went to Friends University where it's a dry campus, so these will be non-alcoholic games.
1. Water Balloon Wars
Using only launchers, each team will have a set time period to destroy other team's fort with water balloons launched from semi-close range. The more damage the better. If you happen to get hit by a water balloon, you are a casualty and you can't help until the next round - if you make it. Specialty targets earn each team more points.
2. Best Prank
It's almost a guarantee that you know someone who thinks he or she is the best at pranks or onery shenanigans, each school will have a moch up of a room and they'll have 2 or 3 hours to turn the room into a walk-in "death trap" full of the subtle and not-so-subtle points of mayhem. Maybe, depending on the craftiness, there could be a theme to the room like, "They got me, but I got them better" or the "My Boyfriend Cheated on Me Revenge" or "Congrats on the marriage! Never give me your keys again" room. It's not a bad way to add a few new tricks to your already awesome list.
3. Ultimate Frisbee
This is probably the game that everyone will want to play. It's the one game that can involve everyone - the Flip Flop Gang, the closet bohemian athletes, and dog enthusiasts alike. Everyone loves a semi-contact sport that involves a frisbee. Everyone either feels like their 12. Or in my case, I feel like one of those really cool people who's natural habitat is a coffee shop, and when they are with friends, they smoke a pipe, and have really deep words of wisdom that could only come from Mr. Miagi from the Karate Kid, or Lucas from Empire Records ("What's with today, today?"). These are the people who drive VW vans, or some earth-friendly, tricked out Jeep. I digress. Ultimate frisbee is the biggest test of counter-cultural athleticism, and teamwork on a zen level. Bring it on.
4. Spirit Smack-down.
It seems that most of the time at competitions you get into a shouting match with other schools/teams. The louder the better. The cheezier the rhyme the better. It's a vocal and non-atheltic competition that shows you awesome freestyle skills, and willingness to tempt the fate and see how far you can push the envelope before you get punched in the face. So, this competition would me modeled a little after the battle part on the tv show Wild & Out and the mini cheer-battle from Bring it On. Which ever side comes up witht he best routines and burns the other team the most wins.
I would totally participate. I think I'm well-versed in most of the game ideas I came up with (with the exception of the last one. I have no flow). Also, I have superb aim with a 250 yd. water balloon launcher. Superb.
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