Kickin' Karen

Cable Companies

2012-02-01T19:26:00.000-06:00

So, I just got off the phone with my cable company. They are very nice, very cordial, I can call them 24/7 when I have a problem and talk to a real live person. Perfecto, yes? Well, except for one corporate mandate: shill services they don't have. I only have cable internet, and a local phone. I got the local phone because it costs $10 extra a month, and they waved the cost of my modem and the installation fees. I was having a problem with my internet, and the nice young man got it straightened for me. Wonderful! Then he tried to get me to buy long-distance. I told him, no thank you, I already spent enough on my cell phone, and there was no way they were talking me out of that, and no way that spending money on their long distance would not save me money. So, then he tried to get me to get cable. I told him no thank you, Hulu and Netflix saw me through just fine. And he asked me about Sports, and I told him I watched one sporting event a year, and it came on the Xbox's ESPN app. He then tried to assassinate the character of Netflix, implying that they were inferior to his plan. I reminded him, that the two cost me $16 a month, and suited my tastes just fine. He tried to insist that cable was superior, and I disagreed. I asked him how many Korean dramas they had on demand. He didn't understand my question. So I told him that 70% of my TV activity consisted of watching the 200 or so Korean dramas on Hulu. Where were the cable company's. He told me to enjoy my Hulu. I enjoy winning, but I hate being harassed.

Insomnia File #2

2012-01-25T05:17:00.000-06:00

I can't sleep. Again. I need to be up in two hours. I've given up all hope, so I'm just passing the time. So, it's time for another insomnia file--aka, time for rampant narcissism in the form of "little known personal facts."

I name my blankets. The newest one looks like army-green sheep's wool. I named it Oscar, after the grouch. Also on my bed is Kurt. He is a navy blue fuzzy blanket, named after Nightcrawler of the X-Men. Because I bought Oscar, I had to get rid of another blanket (otherwise my room would be filled with nothing BUT blankets), so Dust Bunny has to go.
They know me by name at Subway.
My new favorite show is "Raising Hope." That being said, I think I bought my ukulele because of Shelley plays the ukulele.
I will be parked in front of the TV this weekend with a bottle of Mountain Dew and a plate of Totino's pizza rolls to watch the Winter X-Games.
My favorite book growing up was Clint's Be Cheerful Day. It's a kind of lame story book sold only at the Baptist Bookstore in the late '80s about a little boy who gets the Chicken Pox during the week of Vacation Bible School (we Baptists are REAL big on VBS), and can't continue to go. His grandmother comes over to take care of him, and they find fun things to do. Sort of. I don't know why, but the nostalgic value is still comforting.
My worst job ever is a tie between working at the water board, where I hid in the storage room and read books, and when I worked 12-hours a day, seven-days a week for four months for a major insurance company.
I'm considering taking my grandmother on as a roommate.
I love the smell of Repel bug spray.
My favorite Android game app is Alberi Plus. Stupid birds.
My favorite TV show when I was a kid was "Get Smart." No, I do not want to discuss the relatively recent Steve Carrel movie.
I have a 500k+ word Power Rangers fanfiction that I never posted anywhere.
I hate Wednesdays. Bad things always find me on Wednesdays.

On a completely unrelated note, while searching for a job in which I could telecommute, I found a fun quote, reportedly attributed to Ziggy, or at least the creator of the Ziggy comic strip:

“You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses.”

So, rather than complain that I can't sleep, I should rejoice that I am....awake?

Southern Comfort

2012-01-24T18:07:00.000-06:00

Hi, my name is Karen, and I'm from the deep south. Why, yes, my accent is as thick as my grandmother's pecan pie, but you can probably stop the trope-train there.

Yesterday morning, January 24, 2012, the area I grew up in was hammered by tornadoes. My corner of Jefferson County, Alabama, was violated by the unforgiving and wanton winds of a tornado system. Over 200 homes were destroyed, and at least two people died. My best friend awoke on Monday to see a circle of destruction surround her home. I have yet to watch any footage from the disaster. Why? Because I'm sick and tired of national coverage depicting southerners a particular way--especially those from Alabama.

From the coverage I have seen in my life, it would seem that Alabamians all live in trailer parks, are missing teeth, either wear moo-moos or overalls with no shirts, have rebel battle flags on their cars, and are completely ignorant as to the rules of grammar. That kind of footage just adds insult to the injury already felt by the devastation of my home town, it's nigh on unbearable. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with people who do fit that stereotype, I'm just tired of being stereotyped.

So, for the record:

I do not live in a trailer park
I did not drop out of high school. In fact, I dropped out of graduate school.
I still have all my teeth, except for my wisdom teeth.
I wear normal clothes, especially if I'm going to be on camera.
I don't hate black people, or gay people; nor do I exploit illegal aliens.
I do not have a rebel battle flag sticker on the back of my car, on a t-shirt, or on a necklace.
I did not get pregnant at fifteen.
I own more than thirty pair of shoes, so I do not have to go barefoot.
I do own a pick up truck, but it is only 6 years old, and it does not have rust spots on it
The only thing I dislike about the north is their lack of biscuits and abundance of toast at breakfast restaurants.
I do not drink sweet tea.
My parents are not cousins.

Did I cover everything? I hope so. Now, let's please put the silliness aside, and help those who are hurting. Want to help? Check out al.com's post on numerous ways to help--both locally and remotely.

This year, I'm going to...

2012-01-14T23:38:00.000-06:00

Well, I don't usually make New Years' resolutions. I don't really see what the beginning of the year has to do with major life changes, but I digress. This year, though, I'm determined to learn to play the ukulele. I bought myself an ukulele for my birthday (my birthday being on the fourth of this month). I am pledging, however, to learn to play my ukulele. I played at playing piano, I clunked along on the clarinet, I noodled with the oboe, and a fiddled with the guitar. It would be nice to stick with something.

My problem with my guitar is that it's body is so big, I can't get my right arm around it to strum. Not so with the ukulele! I have a Lanikai Soprano ukulele. I bought it off of Amazon. I'm eager to get to work!

Modern Woes

2012-01-11T16:45:00.000-06:00

Why is it, that the one-touch-rescan-for-channels button is directly beneath the volume-down button on my remote? It takes it a full two minutes to "find" said channels. Of course, the channels do not exist as I do not have cable or satellite or anything of any sort. My Xbox is the only source of entertainment when it comes to the TV. It does quite nicely, of course, but when I try to decrease the volume, 2 times out of 10, I reset the channels. In the meantime, the Xbox plays on happily. My Xbox remote, of course, has turned itself off to save battery power, and I therefore cannot adequately pause my Netflix/Hulu.

Bah. I think I'll go to sleep. That will show the remote designers.

iPad Apps Need Not Apply

2011-12-29T17:52:00.000-06:00

Dear websites that I otherwise willingly sign up for email updates: I do not have an iPad or an iPhone. I do not, therefore, need an email a week advertising that you now have an app for them. Please cease and desist. And even if I did, I don't necessarily see why you need to advertise that you have one. Either, a) you are somewhere to par with Twitter and would be remiss for not having an app, or b) have an app that seems to do nothing but repackage the website information that I already otherwise enjoy in a more convenient manor.

Your efforts are noted, please move on.

As for why I do not have an iPhone or iPad? Well, I just can't justify the out of pocket expense. I much prefer getting a laptop for about half the price with the same shelf life as a Macbook. I've heard many a friend lament at the two-year lifespan of their laptops, and with one exception of a faulty motherboard, my PC's have lasted me just as well. I have one faithful little Dell that is seven years old this year, and still works as good as it did then. The same can be said, therefore, for iPhones. I don't have $500+ to drop on a new phone every time it comes out. My phones typically cost me $100 with contract renewal, and that's about the best I can do. I personally don't feel the phones' superiority to my Android phones. And I do not have a tablet whatsoever, as I still can't justify shelling out all those clams one my tight budget. But if I did, I would spend the money on one that supported flash...as in NOT the iPad. Perhaps that's why everyone has an iPad app--because their websites which are 70% reliant on flash do not work on iPads. And Apple has managed to convince us that their product is superior, and it is simply our fault that we cannot adapt.

All of this is not to say that Steve Jobs/Apple-fiends/hipsters/artists out there are bad/evil/unlikable. You're just wired different than me, and if Apple is what you value, that's great for you. It's just not what I value.

Insomnia File #1

2011-12-29T02:47:00.000-06:00

I have in insomnia tonight. It's all resulting from medication that's supposed to knock me out. I think I'm doing it wrong. I'm also sick, miserable, and with no one for company other than two rats, a snake, and a turtle. So to keep myself distracted, I've made the logical decision to list things about myself you probably never knew. Or cared about. Narcissism is truly the balm to all ails.

I love skulls. No, really. Not just my own--though it is my favorite. I think they're cute. And they're a reminder of the expiration date stamped on the bottom of our feet. They make you appreciate the good times, and give you the patience to survive the bad. Besides that, there is a part of me that enjoys the reaction I get out of the rest of my Christian friends when wearing skull earrings.
I bought a yellow truck so that I wouldn't lose my vehicle in the parking lot.
My skin is allergic to the deep south, and is threatening to slough off entirely if I don't move to a cooler climate.
My favorite thing about my Kinect for Xbox is yelling at it to play the next episode of Toddlers in Tiaras
I own six Captain America t-shirts, but I still love X-Men the best. No one else seems to remember that Cap is not my favorite. Sometimes even me.
When doodling myself, I always depict myself as having a pony-tail, no glasses, and rain boots. In reality, I usually have a braid or a bun, I wear thick glasses, and I own no rain boots. The doodles are a lie.
I own over sixty bottles of nail polish.
I have slept two out of the last 39 hours.
The funniest and best book I've read in the last year is Patricia Brent, spinster written by Herbert George Jenkins during WWI. (read / listen)
The song "Riu Chiu" as recorded by the Monkees is stuck in my head currently. (watch)
I decided that I was a Beatles fan when I was in sixth grade without ever owning an album. I have since purchased many albums, and am in awe at my blindly applied good taste.
I hate clowns. And no, I will consequently never watch It. I don't care if it's "not scary" as an adult. My nightmares have enough red noses and fuzzy wigs in them without Tim Curry adding to the collection.

I'm going to try to go to sleep now. Maybe Tim Curry won't follow me there.

Mutton for All!

2011-06-09T01:48:00.000-05:00

So, it seems like I keep running into men whose most distinctive physical traits are their sideburns--more aptly described as "mutton chops." By "running into," I really mean "come across in my perusal of literature, history, and literature depicting history." Example: Gibbs from Pirates of the Caribbean (still not sure how I feel about Stranger Tides). I am developing an unfortunate attachment to them. I am probably more exposed to them due to my recent choices in literature, which is also influencing my recent choices in historical matters, but it is all moving in concentric circles at this point. I still have no idea where the term "mutton chops" comes from, unless someone somewhere has some really ugly livestock. I have, however, found some awesome chops.

Prince Albert was, more or less, the King of England, though lacking the title. Maybe you've heard about him. That Prince Albert in a can joke? Yeah, that's where it gets its name. There's another kind of Prince Albert that we won't talk about, though, due to its...inappropriate nature. Back to the man, though. He was a great leader, a fantastic non-philandering husband (did you know that "philander" starts with a "ph"?), a loving father, and a thoroughly modern man. And, furthermore, he has great chops. Just look at them! Netflix recently added Young Victoria to the streaming list, and now I can't get enough reading on Victoria. And with Victoria, comes Albert, the love of her life. And with Albert comes facial hair.

Through my googling for mutton chops, one man kept resurfacing to a place of prominence--and with good reason. Elisha Marshall has chops to the moon and more. Just look at 'em! About the only thing Wikipedia has on him is that he was a general for the Union Army out west. Honestly, if this man is remembered for anything in the years to come, it will be his awesome heights of facial hair.

The term "side burn" supposedly comes from THIS man--Ambrose Burnside. He was a soldier and a Rhode Island politician, and famous for his facial hair. His chops are pretty off the charts.

This startling gentleman is Caspar David Friedrich. He was a painter of landscapes. It begs the question of why he allowed himself to be captured on canvas with such an odd expression on his face. It looks like his left eyebrow is about to leap off of his face. He did ensure, though, that his magnificent chops be recorded. Good man.

Computer Problems

2011-06-01T13:05:00.000-05:00

So, one of the computers in the open office area was acting up this morning. I was called in as a "computer expert" (I assure you that they overestimate my abilities around here), and left to work on it. About ten minutes later I had this conversation with a coworker that I shall call Mandy.

Mandy: You still haven't figured out what's wrong with that thing?
Me: No, so I'm doing a system restore. It takes a while to complete.
Mandy: Is that going to remove the accounting software we installed last year?
Me: No, I only restored it to last week.
Mandy: Oh...are you sure?
Me: Quite.

If the accounting software was removed, it would be easy-peasy to reinstall it. The whole thing is web-based, slow as snot on a cold day in January, but very easy to restore. If I lost the database containing the information for our materials testing...well, that would truly be upsetting as I have no idea how to get it back.

I finally figured out what the problem was, though, AFTER I did the system restore. The antivirus was updating and scanning at the same as soon as the computer booted. All I had to do was open the antivirus (which took a while), cancel the scan, let it update the virus database, and then let it scan. It's been golden since. That poor little computer just couldn't handle it doing both at once. I tried to explain the problem to "Tiffany," who uses that computer the most. The conversation went something like this.

Me: I figured out what's wrong. It's the antivirus.
Tiffany: Well how'd that get on there?
Me: It's on every computer...
Tiffany: Well, no one else's computer is having this problem? Are you sure they all have it?
Me: Yes, I am. The one on this computer is just malfunctioning because of some scheduling problems.
Tiffany: Can't we just take it off the computer?
Me: No. That would only make things worse in the long run.
Tiffany: But aren't those antiviruses bad for computers?
Me: No, viruses are bad. Antiviruses are good...just frustrating and painful at times.

In order to make her understand the problem, I ended up comparing the antivirus to a mammogram: painful to deal with but necessary for health.

Opening the Bonnet Carre

2011-05-08T23:18:00.000-05:00

They're opening the spillway St. Charles Parish, because the Mississippi river is so high. It's really getting started tomorrow morning, but it's already spilling over.

Psalm 30:1-5

2011-04-25T18:47:00.000-05:00

I drew this when I couldn't stop crying. I'm not saying that these were the magic words to make it all better. It was really comforting.

Psalm 8

2011-04-18T18:23:00.000-05:00

Psalm 8 in its entirety.

Think about a rose bush. Maybe your grandmother or your aunt had one. Don't worry about whether or not it's big. A little rose bush is fine. How many blooms are on it? Fifty? Thirty? Twelve? Think about it. Think about each flower on the bush, no matter how few. Think about the intricacies of each one. Think about the uniqueness of each. No two from that bush are exactly the same. No two have the same exact coloring. No two have the same exact petal shapes. No two have the same number of thorns.

Now think about a big bin of apples at the grocery store. Your favorite kind. Now, you're only going to buy four apples. How would you pick those four apples? You would pick a certain size and a certain color. You would make sure that your apples have no spots, and they're closest to what you like most in an apple. Yet, all four will be different. In fact every apple of that type in every bin in every grocery store in every country will be different. No two alike.

Now think about if it were your job to design every apple different. If it was your job to create every rose different. That's a tall order. But someone out there does that: God. He created EVERYTHING. What's more, he created you.

In Psalm 8, David is marveling at God's creative powers, his importance in the universe. And yet, even though he is so great and so mighty, he chooses to think of him--a single man. And he cares for you, too.

Psalm 34:17-18

2011-04-11T15:45:00.000-05:00

"The Righteous cry out and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from their troubles. The Lord is close the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Broken Bones

2011-03-31T10:15:00.000-05:00

We had a group come in from South Carolina come in, and a few of the male chaperones constructed our lovely new playset. It has two levels, but it's still safer than our old one. The children are ecstatic, the adults are tired, and I'm feeling like an old lady because I'm worried for their safety. Maybe it's just our kids. They tend to try dumb stuff at least once.

Noah Knew

2011-03-12T19:54:00.000-06:00

Have you seen these people? Honestly, I live in a cave with little media influence, and I get most of my news from the front page of yahoo. And I'm a google user. Whatever. But I started hearing people on campus laughing about May 21st. So I looked it up. Oh. My. Word.

"We Can Know." Know what? The date of Jesus' return. How? Because Noah knew. Jesus even said that it will be like the time of Noah.

"As it was in the days of Noah, so it will be at the coming of the Son of Man." (Mat. 24:37).

Of course, Jesus couldn't have been talking about the moral depravity of the time, or anything like that. Oh wait. He probably did:

"For in the days before the flood, people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day Noah entered the ark; and they knew nothing about what would happen until the flood came and took them all away. That is how it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. " (Mat 24:38-39).

I guess what they mean is that we're like Noah if we're Christians, so we can know. Or something. Of course, these verses are preceded by Matthew 24:36

“But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father."

How did they get to May 21st? There is a looooong-winded numerological reason as to why. Honestly, I couldn't type it all up. Basically, since Harold Camping says that since the church is at the end of the Biblical age, it can now be discerned, because of a great verse in Ecclesiastes 8:5

"Whoever obeys his command will come to no harm, and the wise heart will know the proper time and procedure."

Note that God is telling them to obey their earthly king in this section. Even better, though, Ecclesiastes 8:7 says:

"Since no one knows the future, who can tell someone else what is to come?"

And the numerological lengths he goes to...numbers of shekels and whatnot...it's ridiculous! What's more, Harold Camping, the man behind it already predicted that the world would end in 1994. He's already 0 for 1. Check out more about his illustrious career--here.

Spiritual Zombies

2011-02-10T10:25:00.000-06:00

So I am a bit warped. Today, I was in Personal Evangelism--which is an entirely respectable class--and Dr. Nix was reminding us of the condition of the lost, as we are apt to forget what it is like to be separated from Jesus. See? Shining and respectable. The first point in the lecture was that the lost were under sin. So, of course, I imagined a little man being buried under a rock labeled "sin".

The next point in the lecture was that the lost are spiritually dead. Dr. Nix described them as just going through the motions--they come to church, they sing the songs, they pray out loud, but inside they're still dead. They're just walking about dead--kind of like zombies. Yes, his term originally, but you know that I championed it. I was then overwhelmed by the image of zombies filling up a sanctuary and singing "Brethren We Have Come to Worship" in a slurring fashion.

The next point in the lecture was that the lost are "children of wrath." Of course, the zombies then attacked the non-zombie choir in the choir loft. There was great carnage.

The fourth point on the slide show stated that the lost are "without hope." So, after decimating the choir in the choir loft, the zombies went back to the pews, and laid on them weeping because they have no hope as they had eaten every human in the church.

The fifth point informed me that the lost have "no peace." Of course, at that point, an unsuspecting group of hippies in a VW microbus pull into the church parking lot, and stumbled into the sanctuary. They were wearing peace sign necklaces and the zombies ripped them off before eating the hippies. Dr. Nix went on to say that lost people try to find peace in their lives by filling it with drugs and sex, which are self-destructive behaviors. So, a few of the zombies were trying to shoot up, a few were looking for a room, and a few had dynamite strapped to their stomachs, and blew up. Very self destructive. Dr. Nix then told us that this behavior was like sticking stuff in a black hole. So, a black hole opened up under the pew where Mrs. Tuttle kept her special seat cushion, and sucked up most of the zombies.

The sixth and final point was that lost people are "spiritually blind." Dr. Nix asked, "If you're blind, what do you need?" I responded--no kidding--out loud, "Eyeballs." Someone else said, "Sight," so he went with that, but it was too late for me. I had already said "eyeballs." So the remaining zombies had managed to lose their eyeballs in the black hole before it closed, so they are down on the floor of the sanctuary on hands and knees searching for eyeballs. One of them is looking for a second eyeball, but his first eye is hanging on by a nerve.

After the slideshow, Dr. Nix showed us a video depicting several lost people in very real, very upsetting situations. The last person on the video was a homeless man who lost everything including his family. He asked the camera, "Anybody know where I can get a new life?"

Well, then, the last surviving zombie, asked me if I knew where he could get a new life, because he was hungry.

It is highly irresponsible for Dr. Nix to mention zombies in the middle of such great imagination fodder.

I'm a PC.

2011-02-07T18:40:00.000-06:00

So, I am a PC, and yes, I'm even operating from Vista. It doesn't upset me. I know it's garbage, but I'm okay with that. I got it at a great deal, and so far, it isn't inhibiting my life. I know that both Windows 7 and Windows XP are better than Vista. I'm not arguing that. I also know that the newest Mac is also supposed to be better than all of them. I've never cared for Mac. Yes, they are wonderfully stable, but when you've been compatible with almost nothing, that works out well for you. They are immune to most viruses, but in the past that may have had to do with the relatively low number of Mac users (yes, I am well aware that it is on the rise). Wonderful for Mac users, that's fine. Wonderful. I am glad for you. I have two distinct problems with Macs: 1) they have dumbed down computers, and 2) they're way too expensive. Come on Mac users, even you have to agree on that. I don't want to pay the extra just for mine to have a piece of fruit on the outside. But you know what? I'm not even griping about that today.

I was listening in on two girls in class today. One of them was coaxing her MacBook to life, and it was makign a horrendous noise. I, being a PC, was snickering inwardly, but didn't say anything. Fellow-MacBook-girl was giving dying-MacBook-girl her condolences over her ailing machine. Dying-MacBook-girl said that she was concerned because it was nearly three-and-a-half years old. Fellow-MacBook-girl commented that her last MacBook hadn't lasted that long.

I have a six-and-a-half-year-old Dell running Windows XP that works just as well as well as it did day 1. Granted, my needs have exceeded its original capabilities, but it still does what it always did quite well. I reset it once, after a nasty virus, but it works great. It has an non-wide-screen shape, and it's kinda thick, but it's a brick. Honestly, though, other than size (and logically, and not untimely outdated design), it's perfectly fine. In fact, I use it for a TV right now (to stream my media).

The Macbook has only been available since 2006, and apparently, people are wearing them out. These all might, all powerful, Macbooks sound like they have three-year shelf life. Why? They're ultra-stable, unlike my Dell. They're impervious to viruses, unlike my Dell. They're apparently sent to earth by God on high for the soul purpose of giving us temporary happiness, unlike my Dell. And yet, they break that easy? I can't afford anything that expensive every three years. This Vista has lasted me a whole year, and if I have to replace it in two years, then I will not have wasted that much money, or really that much heartache. Maybe the newer ones are more awesome. Maybe they'll last longer. But honestly, I'm not impressed. If and when my HP running Vista goes out, I will be filling the gap between computers using the green brick that is my Dell. I'm hoping by that point, we'll have Google laptops, and I'll ditch Windows for something that's actually, you know, better and cheaper.

"Good bargains are pick-pockets." --Thomas Fuller

2011-01-16T01:04:00.000-06:00

I love the $2.50 movie bin at Wal-Mart. I bought sixteen movies and thirteen episodes for $5. Granted, these movies are worthy of MST3K (no, literally--one of them is Hercules Against the Moon Men is an episode), but the entire first season "21 Jump Street" are worth at least $2.50. As a lover of terrible movies, though, I think I will enjoy this collection. The collection itself is entitled "Clash of the Olympians." Mostly, they're Hercules movies and a few giant movies, all released between 1959-1964. The packaging is as cheap as used tissues, though. Each box is about as thick as two standard DVD cases, but contained within is each disc in a paper sleeve with a plastic window. That's the difference between a $5 movie and $2.50 movie.

I really do love terrible movies, though. Troy, for instance, is a terrible movie, but I can watch it thirty times in a row, though, I usually do watch it in French. Achilles is less whiny that way. I also happen to love Devon's Ghost, which you've never heard of, but is plain awful. And I love it.

Hopefully, the Clash of the Olympians collection will be equally terrible and enjoyable.

“True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost.” --Arthur Ashe

2011-01-06T09:47:00.001-06:00

Okay, tell me this doesn't sound awful:

"Playful Pals: Paralyzed Veterans of America Calendar"

Admittedly there is a puppy and a kitten on the cover, but still. Just the sound of it. And the cover picture doesn't seem that "playful." More like the puppy himself is paralyzed in his back legs, and the kitten is taking advantage of it and nipping at his nose. The rest of the pictures are either for the animals alone, simply coexisting (but not playing), or one nipping/smooshing/taking advantage of the other. So, paralyzed veterans can coexist, sit and look lonely by themselves, or be picked on because of their inability to fight back. It's a terrific calendar. It's also last year's calendar.

This year's is all about humming birds--because when I think of paralyzed heroes, I think goofy little birds that can hover in place. The title is--get this--"Hum Along." So it makes me think the humming sound that those scooter chairs make. Some of them probably use those scooter chairs--if they can afford them, that is. The pictures themselves aren't that offensive, but completely incongruous.

Puppies, kitties, and humming birds all seem to be out of place in a calendar to support the paralyzed veterans. If I were designing one, I would fill it with pictures of the paralyzed veterans serving others before they lost their mobility. I don't want anyone to pity them, because they don't deserve pity. I want people to remember the things they did to help us, so that now, when they need help, we don't miss the opportunity to return the favor. "Patriotism" is very "in" right now. I think you could make a bundle with these calendars if you just made them right. It would help to support them, it would make their sacrifices known, and it would (above all) protect their dignity. They're not "playful pals" or "humming along," they're wounded heroes. They gave all to protect us, or in some cases rescue us from natural disasters.

Furthermore, I don't like cheap calendars about humming birds, puppies, and kitties. My grandmother probably does, but let's face it, they're dying out. Let's tap into the younger generations by appealing to their intelligence, and their heart. And my grandmother would probably still buy the calendar if it showed pictures of the veterans before they got out of the military. Can't you see it? A picture of someone from the national guard helping a family during a flood; a picture of someone in the coast guard fishing someone out of the water; a picture of a guy in Iraq with his army buddies; a picture of a guard in the snow for Christmas. Show these guys with all the dignity and honor they deserve, and then let them reap the benefits.

And yes, we will call it something like "Wounded Heroes," because they are still heroes, even if they can't walk anymore. They earned the title. You can't take it away just because their legs don't work.

“Don't feel entitled to anything you didn't sweat and struggle for.” --Marian Wright Edelman

2010-12-23T09:56:00.000-06:00

So I have a problem at work. Well, not necessarily a problem, but a frustration. There is one employee who hinted yesterday that he would really like some jam or preserves to be provided for his toast in the morning, as we already have butter. True, the company does provide basic condiments from time to time like butter, ketchup, mayo, and mustard, but beyond that, it's pretty much up to everyone else. Well, he asked yesterday, and this morning, there was no jam, jelly, or preserves available for his toast. Therefore, he griped about it under his breath while I was heating up my hot-pocket.

This is also the same person who gripes about running out of coffee and sugar, when he drinks at least a pot of coffee every day, while everyone else has one or two cups. What he can't seem to understand is that the only thing the company is required to supply is good drinking water--which we do. There is a water cooler with no fewer than four FULL bottles sitting next to it at all times. All requirements have therefore been met. If the company runs out of coffee, it is unfortunate, and will soon be rectified, but it is nothing to have a hissy fit over. If we run out of sugar (as we do every week because someone is stealing 2.5 pounds of sugar at a time), it is again unfortunate, but nothing to raise a ruckus for days over. And if the company does not provide you jam, then oh well. That is not the company's obligation.

My frustration, I think, is his sense of entitlement. Actually, I think it's the overall sense of entitlement around here. Everyone here, who works for a construction materials testing lab, feels entitled to 8-5 hours. The construction world doesn't work 8-5 so neither do we. Each feels entitled to the cush jobs that require almost nothing of you, and then complain about how much they get paid when they get them. Of course, on the flip side, every contractor feels entitled to have his job placed at top priority on the books, because we have "a contract with them." They know very well that we have a contract with all of our clients, and that we have a "24 hour notice" stipulation in every contract. If we are not notified 24 hours in advance, we are not obligated to supply them with a tech. So technically, if they have a nine a.m. pour, and they call at four p.m. the day before, we are not contractually obligated to make that job. But they're entitled to one an hour from now.

Then again, I come from an entitled generation. I blame the parents, not video games. Well, I also partly blame the internet for instant gratification, which leads to entitlement, but mostly I blame parents. Your kid is not entitled to everything. They are entitled to live free of abuse with plenty of food, and if you can't provide that for them, then they are entitled to get it from a caring foster parent. Of course, I believe that you are not entitled to take them back, but must earn them back, but I'm not in charge. Otherwise, your kids are not entitled to anything. They are not entitled to go to the best school. They are not entitled to go to college. It's unfortunate but true. By "entitling" kids to things they have no right claiming, we are robbing them of their natural talents and capabilities. God did not create us with no purpose. We all have one, but we also all have to work to fulfill them.

God also did not promise us comfort, so we are not entitled to a comfortable life. Those who promise that you will have wealth if you just follow God are lying. What God does promise, is to never leave you (Matthew 28:20). He is always watching you (Psalm 33:18). And he does promise that HIS joy, not the world's joy, will come to you (Psalm 30:4-5). THAT, beloved, is what God promises those who seek him.

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas" --Bing Crosby singing Irving Berlin's classic

2010-12-22T08:22:00.000-06:00

That's a lie. I am doing no such thing. I would never dream of a white Christmas at such a southern locale. I have decided to never go through a snow in a place not equipped with snow plows ever again. It really stinks. And since I'm dreaming of spending Christmas at my parents house (in scenic Mobile, AL), I am decidedly not dreaming of a White Christmas.

Had Christmas early with my friends on Sunday night since Kim left yesterday. Kim had picked out and received her present when we went shopping on November 14, so there was nothing for me to wrap up for her. I got Hayden a tank for Munson his fish along with some black rocks to go along the bottom (Munson is Georgia red, the rocks are black, and apparently somebody Munson is the "Voice of the Dawgs" or some such name). For Justin, I got a Blockbuster gift card, as hardly a week goes by when he's not going to Blockbuster. I picked the one with a heat sensitive spot that is supposed to help you pick out what kind of movie you wanna watch.

Justin got Hayden WWII the complete DVD set (from History Channel or something) and Kim got him the Office DVD game. Hayden didn't go shopping yet, what with graduation and entertaining family members and whatnot.

Kim got me the hardware I wanted for my chiforobe (or however you spell that ridiculous word). They're bronze-finished and they look like they have green glass handles. Justin got me Beatles glasses which rock. He remembered that I liked the Beatles, which is true, though, I'm impressed because I've mentioned it maybe twice ever in our acquaintance. It makes me want to hunt up that episode of the Power Puff Girls where they speak in nothing but Beatles lyrics. That's my favorite episode.

“Most hard-boiled people are half-baked.” --Wilson Mizner

2010-12-17T16:26:00.000-06:00

I make phenomenal cheddar-garlic biscuits. No, really, I do. They taste a whole stinkin' lot like Red Lobster's, but are actually way easier than the recipe that Red Lobster published. Want it? Okay. Here goes.

Ingredients:

2 cups all-purpose flower
2 1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 heaping tablespoon white sugar
1 stick chilled butter, chopped into little chunks
1 1/4 cup whole milk
2 teaspoons garlic powder (plus a pinch)
1 1/4 cups of shredded cheddar cheese

Steps:

Preheat an oven to 450° F or 230°C
Mix all powdered ingredients together (flower, baking powder, slat, sugar, and garlic).
Toss in the little chunks of butter and stir them into the dry mixture. Don't worry about them blending, just make sure they're roughly evenly dispersed.
Pour in shredded cheddar cheese, and mix evenly.
Pour in ALL the milk, and stir until mixture is consistently sticky throughout (note: cheese and butter should still be distinguishable, but evenly dispersed).
On a baking stone or a greased cookie sheet spoon dollop-sized globs (or whatever size you prefer), making sure to leave room between them (they may double in width).
Cook at 450° for eight minutes (for littler biscuits) or ten minutes (for larger biscuits). Pull out of the oven when cheese is brown and bread is a dark yellow/light gold color.

Caveats:

I have never made these on a cookie sheet, so watch them carefully. I only use my stone, and I know it cooks differently.
If you have a stone, let it sit on the stone a little while after taking the stone out, to let the bottom cook more thoroughly. Then, you should be able to lift the biscuits easily with a fork (works so much better than my spatula).
You may want to go a little heavier on the garlic (depending on your affinity for garlic), or you may want to substitute some with seasoning salt (to give flavor without all the garlic).

And that's it. You may have never made biscuits without Bisquik before, but this recipe is almost as easy as making regular Bisquik biscuits. The ONLY time consuming thing is dicing the stick of butter, but it's still pretty easy. Dicing the butter is best in this recipe, because as the butter melts, it gives that fantastic taste. The official "authentic" Red Lobster recipe calls for you to baste the tops of Bisquik biscuits, which is honestly no fun. And yes, Red Lobster really did release that recipe themselves. If you'd like to try it, here it is:

Dough:

1 1/4 lbs. Bisquik
3 Oz. freshly shredded cheddar cheese
11 Oz. cold water

Garlic Spread:

1/2 cup melted butter
1 teas. garlic powder
1/4 teas. salt
1/8 teas. onion powder
1/8 teas. dried parsley

Steps:

To cold water, add Bisquik and cheese, blending in a mixing bowl.
Mix until dough is firm.
Using a small scoop, place the dough on a baking pan lined with baking paper.
Bake in 375 degree oven for 10 to 12 minutes or until golden brown.
While biscuits bake, combine spread ingredients.
Brush baked biscuits with the garlic topping.

Told you mine was easier.

"Is not the festive season when families and friends exchange gifts in memory of The Gift...to send forth the good tidings of great joy into all the earth?' --Lottie Moon

2010-12-10T12:54:00.001-06:00

I was talking one day with a Christian friend about Lottie Moon, and she didn't know who Lottie was. I was scandalized. It took me a moment to remember that Lottie was a Baptist, so if you're not Baptist you probably don't know who she is. Of course, there are many Baptists who were never GA's or in the WMU so they never learned WHO Lottie was, they just heard her name at Christmas time when the church was begging money for the foreign missionaries.

The whole concept of not knowing who that amazing personage was is a bit traumatizing to me. I hold her on high as a beacon. I know we should strive to be like Jesus, but sometimes we need a flesh-and-blood model to watch. For me, it's Lottie Moon.

She was a single missionary to China in a time when no single lady did anything. She was born in Viriginia in 1840, and was a rascally young lady. She was a prankster who hated authority and loved fun. At eighteen, her mother's prayers were finally answered and she surrendered to God. She went to college and became a teacher, before finally at age 33 accepting the call to go to China.

She stuck out sorely when she first arrived in China, despite the fact that she was only 4' 3" tall. She still wore her American clothes. The Chinese people, afraid of her differences, called her the "Foreign Devil."

Lottie was perplexed on how to make friends with the Chinese people. She took two major actions to help bridge that gap. The first, was to dress like them. Paul said that he became all things to all people so that he might reach some. Lottie did no different. By donning the clothes of those around her, she was able to show them that she was willing to meet them were they were.

Her second major action, was that she won the hearts of the Chinese children. How does one do that? You feed them yummy things. She started to make tea cookies for all the children in the villages she worked with. After making pals with the children, they would invite her home to meet their mothers. Through these relationships, she won people to Christ, and people stopped calling her the "Foreign Devil." They started calling her the "Cookie Lady," instead. And I don't know about you, but I can deal with being called the "Cookie Lady." In fact, I have been called the "Brownie Lady" before.

She served the people of China for nearly forty years--through hardships, wars, and famine. In fact, at one point she was giving away all of her food to her Chinese friends, knowing that she could do with less. Unfortunately, her heart was larger than her needs. In 1912 her missionary friends found out that she had nearly starved herself to death (she weighed only 50 pounds). They put her on a ship against her will to take her back to the states to see proper doctors. She died, though, on the ship while they were docked in Kobe Japan, still close to her to beloved China, on Christmas Eve.

What an awesome testimony. In 1912, 72 wasn't particularly young. She had lived a long, full life, and she had lived all but eighteen years of it for God. Nearly forty were spent sharing with those who had never heard the Good News of Jesus. And then, she died on the day before we celebrate the Lord's birth, after starving herself to death for others. I think we could all do worse than Lottie.

Every year, the WMU (Women's Missionary Union) has a special offering time in the month of December to take up money for the International Missions Board. In 1887, Lottie wrote to a foreign missions journal, asking for a time of giving to be set aside for foreign missions. The ladies of the Baptist world took this as a rallying cry and formed the Women's Missionary Union (an auxilliary to the Southern Baptist Church), with the purpose to educate women and children about missions. They also set aside the Christmas season to collect money for missionaries--just as Lottie asked. The very first Christmas Offering was collected in 1888, and the grand total rang up to $3,315 (which would be worth about $77,000 today). This was enough money to send three new missionaries to China. Ever since then, the WMU has hosted a Christmas Offering. In 1919, Annie Armstrong, the founder of the WMU, suggested that the Christmas Offering be named in Lottie's honor. In 1926, the name change was official, and ever since then, the WMU has sponsored the Lottie Moon Christmas Offering.

I think about her alot this time of year. I grew up in GA's, the WMU's program for young girls, and Lottie and Annie were our heroes. They changed the world in a time when women didn't change anything. They reminded us that our contributions, large and small, mattered--to God if to no one else. Lottie was a miscreant and a trouble maker that no one ever thought would amount to anything. But she did.

We're going caroling as a church next Wednesday, and returning for hot-cocoa and cookies. I think I'll make some of Lottie Moon's tea cookies, though I think I'm just going to modify the measurements of her original recipe instead of making the "redone" recipe that the WMU provides.

Sources:
IMB's Letter Archive (archives some of Lottie's letters)
Measuring Worth (value of money conversion)
Article on Lottie Moon (Wikipedia--the internet's most reliable resource.)
WMU's Lottie Moon Focus (Facts about Lottie, the Christmas Offering, and Cookie Recipe)

"Yesterday, December 7th, 1941 -- a date that will live in infamy..." --FDR

2010-12-07T18:33:00.000-06:00

Or maybe just a date that sometimes flutters across the consciousness of America whenever the latest movie depicting the attack on Pearl Harbor comes out, and even then, the headlining actors are more memorable than the actual date. I dug out my "Remember Pearl Harbor" pin, which is my favorite because it has an actual pearl in stead of the word pearl on the pin. I pinned it on, and no one noticed. It's frustrating. Unless you're the History Channel or Turner Classic Movies, the day just slides right by with absolutely no notice.

I get upset, and I don't really know why, because I shouldn't expect any different. I mean, it's not this generation's cause, and all those who remember are dying. My grandfather was there, and he was an active member of the Pearl Harbor Survivor's. Now their sons and daughters are taking over, but it's petering out altogether. I don't expect people to know that army bases, like Fort Benning, were also attacked, not just the naval ships. I don't expect them to know about both waves, and how the island was completely cut off from the main land out of fear, or how the people were half starving and the army lived off of pineapples in pineapple plantation.

I just wish they...remembered. Though, I completely less 9/11 and the anniversary of Katrina pass by without acknowledgement. It's not that I belittle their experiences...they just weren't mine. Yes, I was alive for both, but I feel completely removed. Even living in New Orleans, I felt removed from Katrina. It wasn't my tragedy, and I can't put those shoes on. However, I have a little Hawaiian dust that's nearly seventy years old on my shoes.

My grandfather died when I was eight. Only eight. I remember how much he loved me, though. One thing he never talked about was the war. A church member asked him to talk about it while he recorded it on video, which he did before he died. To my knowledge, it was the only time he talked about it. I watched the video, and my heart was torn in two. That wasn't just a man on a TV. That was MY grandfather. He watched the skies rain down fire for two hours. He was so close to his attackers that he could see their mustaches. He lived illegally off of pineapples from a plantation because he was dropped there with the rest of his unit, and told that someone would return for them. But no one did. Not for a long time.

Maybe that's it. Maybe it's the personal connection. Even still, though, I know plenty of people whose whole worlds were changed by Katrina. Is it because I walked in expecting that? I never expected to be so moved by my grandfather's story, so when I was, it floored me. Maybe because I loved him so much before I was aware. I love my friends who survived Katrina, but they were already survivors in my eyes. My grandfather wasn't until after he died. Then again, maybe because no else has forgotten Katrina, I don't get offended, as I do with Pearl Harbor.

In Elizabeth Gaskell's North and South, Margaret Hale befriends those beneath her class in a mill-town in late nineteenth century northern England. The inner city is horrid and crowded. But as she makes friends, her opinion changes of the town. At one point, she rushes to the rough side of town, running late for a visit with one of her new friends.

"As she went along the crowded narrow streets, she felt how much of interest they had gained by the simple fact of her having learnt to care for a dweller in them."

I guess that's why no one cares about Pearl Harbor survivors anymore. They just don't know any. I suppose I'm the last guard.

"Dawn: when men of reason go to bed." --Ambrose Bierce

2010-12-07T01:52:00.001-06:00

I can't sleep. Not really. For some reason, it is fifty percent elusive. I'm just awake enough to not be able to sleep, but I can hardly get anything done sensibly--like typing. I apologize in advance for any mistakes ahead of time. I'm just sleepy. But not sleepy enough to sleep. So I'm wakey? Slakey?

One thing I've noticed is that I'm mostly frustrated right now, which makes me want to cry, which is totally unproductive in this case. Crying will do nothing for me at this point. My eyes are already sore, and that doesnt' help me sleep.

Kim and I found a Christmas tree today. We found a fifty dollar tree at Big Lots that I quite like. It's full enough, though a little thin, and plenty tall enough. Too much taller, and we wouldn't be able to fit it in the living room. All in all, it's the best thing for that price.