winter's coming

it's cold out. the thermometer has only just now climbed into the 20's, and with the blustery wind it feels a lot colder than that (according to weather.com, the wind chill is a whopping 2 degrees right now). and on top of that, it's supposed to snow sunday night and most of monday, with a "significant accumulation of snow" possible...


needless to say, i'm pumped


i love winter; it's probably my second-favorite season after fall, although it can be hard to choose between it and summer at times (spring comes in a distant fourth). i can't wait until the ice is thick enough to go skating in deering park, until there's enough snow to go sledding out on the eastern prom or snowshoeing over local trails. i'm looking forward to breaking out my gaiters, my wool sweaters, my extra-thick socks, my down vest, and all the other winter-related gear and clothing. i'm unusually warm-blooded, so generally speaking the colder it is, the more comfortable i am. fortunately my roommate is of a fairly similar persuasion, which is why the house is usually kept at a balmy 55 degrees (well, we're also both quite frugal, which is probably the main reason why we keep it that cool. but that aside, we both can deal quite well with a cooler than normal habitat). why turn up the heat when you can drink some hot chocolate, put on a sweatshirt and some wool socks, and save a bundle of money in the process?


yesterday while out on one of my routes, i saw a sight that brought back a flood of memories: a guy with a UPS uniform, riding a bike with a trailer being towed behind it, delivering packages.
ah yes, those were the days! that was me, a mere two years ago. i remember some days where it was cool and crisp and the roads were clear and dry, and it felt like the greatest job in the world...


and then, there were the other days


like the day when it snowed so much that it covered the roads with over a foot of powder, which made biking nearly impossible

or the day when i tried to stop on a patch of ice... i ended up dumping the bike, and the trailer i was pulling, filled with heavy packages, ran me over. how humiliating

then there was the time when it was freezing rain, and i was so cold and miserable by the end of the day that people were genuinely shocked by my appearance when i showed up at the door:









(i had forgotten my hat that day, so i ended up looking like some sort of abominable iceman by the end of the day)



i've had some pretty hard-core jobs in my working career, but that has to rank near the top. and yet, i wouldn't have traded the experience for anything. i ended up doing well enough with my deliveries that they eventually offered me a permanent part-time job, which was a real blessing since i had zero job prospects at the time. plus, now i have a trump card in my pocket... anytime someone starts talking about how hard their job is, or how miserable the working conditions, i know i can cut in and say "yeah, well i used to deliver packages for UPS... by bicycle... in maine... in the winter!" and be relatively sure to end the bellyaching


i've noticed a transformation in my attitude regarding not having a car over the past few months. at first, i was still hoping it would work out to find some motorized transportation, so the times when i had to walk were overshadowed by a sort of wistful hoping that this was just a transitory phase. then i noticed that, after a couple of months, i genuinely began to enjoy walking, or on rare occasions taking the bus; they had gone from being "second-rate" modes of transportation to being my preferred options

sure, there are still times when it's a drag not to have a car: when the waves are breaking and i don't have any way to get my board down to the beach; when it's cold and rainy outside and i need to go somewhere; when i forget about a meeting at church until the last second, and have to humbly ask for a ride in order to make it there on time; or, those moments when i cross the overpass over the interstate, and see the multitude of cars passing beneath my feet, and start dreaming of hitting the road, taking the wheel and driving as far as the road will take me...


but fortunately, those moments are becoming increasingly rare. there's been a subtle shift from resignation, to contentment, to joy. i love keeping my eyes out for loose change on the sidewalks, saying hi to the people i meet on the streets, and enjoying that feeling of utter independence that comes from relying solely on your own two feet (or, on occasion, public transportation) to take me where i need to go. i love being active enough that i don't have to be too careful about what or how much i eat (i estimated that i probably walk on average 50+ miles a week, between work and running errands and other assorted journeys). i actually had to figure out how to get some more fat into my diet recently, with the temperature dropping and my metabolism rising by a corresponding measure; thankfully, day-old tony's donuts are both inexpensive and up to the task of providing some extra-delicious calories


winter in maine... you just gotta love it

backpacks and yogurt

it’s amazing how one little thing can throw your day off

every wednesday afternoon i get together with pastor mark right after i get out of work. the ulterior motive is to plan for the upcoming week’s sunday school class (brief sidenote: i was walking past a seventh day adventist church today, and noticed on their sign that they have “sabbath school” at 9:30. i suppose “saturday school” doesn’t sound any better, but even so, it struck me as slightly humorous), but in reality we usually end up eating donuts, drinking coffee and talking about any number of things for the majority of the time, until the lateness of the hour forces the issue and we buckle down and get to work. anyhow, i usually try and remember to bring this giant notebook that the covenant church provides for use with confirmation classes with me; it's filled with great ideas and study guides and all sorts of helpful advice. unfortunately, it’s so filled with goodness that it causeth my backpack to runneth over. so, i decided to upgrad to my larger backpack for the day. no big deal, except...

i had to transfer everything (key word: everything) from my regular, every-day, and slightly smaller bag, to my larger, more capacious backpack

i’m a man of routine: i get up at the same time every morning, have the same morning regimen, and usually pack the same food items for my workday sustenance:

• two (2) Clif Bars, randomly selected from a grocery bag filled with an assortment of flavors
• one (1) banana
• one (1) “Breyers Smart! with DHA OMEGA-3 Fruit on the Bottom Boost your Brain, All Natural Yogurt, also randomly selected out of the fridge. (i’m slightly skeptical about it’s ability to “boost my brain,” but it is one of the last yogurts to have real, honest-to-goodness chunks of fruit in it, which i love. especially if they’re blueberries. also, judging by the pictures on their website, i'm clearly not part of their target demographic)

in order to safely and efficiently eat the yogurt, i have a special yogurt spoon which i keep in my bag, and carefully clean off after each use:

(ok, i’m not going to lie: i lick it clean and wipe it off on my shirt sleeve. satisfied?)

so, or course, i forgot the spoon, leaving it at home in my abandoned backpack:

by the time i realized i was working sans spoon, i was too far afield to consider driving home to retrieve it. i suppose the rational thing to do at that point would have been either (a. procure a spoon from the nearby grocery store (this would most likely entail visiting their salad bar), or (b. eat the yogurt without the spoon

instead, i chose the third option, which was (c. think deep and dark thoughts about how my life is ruined now that i don't have a spoon for my yogurt. not only that, but EVERY YOGURT that i've EVER EATEN while at this job has been consumed with the aid of my sacred yogurt spoon. the blood of a thousand berries and cream of a hundred cows has filled its bowl, and i do it the dishonor of leaving it behind? what a moron


fortunately, my moment of discontent soon passed. i'll spare you the details of how i managed to finally do away with the yogurt (ok, i lied, i won't spare you the details: i drank most of it right out of the cup, and then used a pen i found in the truck to sort of scrape off the sides and get every last bit i could into my mouth), but what left an impression in my mind was how quickly i allowed myself to become upset and discontent over such a small matter


how many times have i fallen into this trap before? more than i'd care to admit


it's so easy to think and say: "my current situation in life is not good enough. i expect, no, i demand better." bigger houses. more clothes. faster cars. higher-definition televisions. thinner bodies. quieter appliances. more efficient furnaces. smaller mp3 players. "bigger and better than ever before!" you know the drill


it's a far cry from what i know to be true... "if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content." (1 Tim. 6:8).


nowhere in the bible do i find mention of "sacred yogurt spoons" being needed to go about my daily life. or, quite frankly, many other things which i would tend to label as "necessities." henry thoreau makes the point in walden that much of what we deem as being essential is really superfluous; the true necessities are "Food, Shelter, Clothing, and Fuel; for not till we have secured these are we prepared to entertain the true problems of life."

chances are you have all four of those things, and quite a bit more to boot. i know i do. so why do i still worry about my yogurt spoon, instead of devoting my mental faculties towards more meaningful ends?



now that's the million-dollar question

i'm no arachnaphobe, but...

last week, a spider bit me on my ankle while i was sleeping. it got all swollen and nasty and oozed disgusting fluids for three days (my ankle, not the spider), but now it's all better (thankfully!). this is an open letter to that spider, should it happen to read this:



dear spider that lives somewhere in my room,

i have nothing against spiders. in fact, i generally tend to think of you and your friends as welcome members on planet earth. i despise mosquitoes and other flying, biting insects, and they happen to be the very sort of creature that you enjoy for dinner. so i'd like to think that we can enjoy a sort of symbiotic relationship: we both can kill all of the mosquitoes, black flies, fruit flies, or even ants that we want to, as long as we look out for each other.

you had to go and ruin that, didn't you?

it would be one thing if i came close to stepping on you, or threatened one of your children, or initiated some other appreciably traumatic encounter. but no... you, for some unknown reason, felt the need to crawl under my covers, WHILE I WAS SLEEPING, and bite me near my ankle.

not cool.

did i do something to offend you? was it something i said? next time, just let me know, and perhaps we can work out our differences without resorting to biting. you're a spider; you should know that i am way too big too kill, even with your most potent brew of venom, and even if you wanted to chew on some man-flesh, i am far from succulent. your eight beady eyes should certainly have been able to deduce, even under the cover of night, that my skin is hardened and tough, not at all sweet and tender.

i'll chalk this whole series of events up to a simple understanding. you made a mistake... i can let it slide

but should you ever dare gnaw on my leg again, let me remind you of my reaction to some distant relatives of yours who also thought they could attack me in my sleep:




and, the retaliation:





so next time you have a case of the midnight munchies, look elsewhere for your late night snack. otherwise, our previously amicable relationship will take a turn for the worse, and i will hunt you down and kill you


yours truly,

patrick




(videos from the '05 road trip... you can read more about it here, or you can watch stupid short videos from it here. or not. whatever.)

titles are for the british

most days, i love my job. i love being outdoors, being active, and having some quality time to myself. most days i realize how lucky i am to have the job that i do, and i relish every moment of every day

some days, however, are slightly harder to enjoy. days when it's 32.001 degrees outside, with a howling wind determined to thrash your entire body with ice-cold needles of rain. i don't mind being cold, and i don't particularly mind being wet, but being cold and wet is a combination that can send me over the edge into despair. fortunately, we have some heavy-duty rain gear available for us to use at the water district. i broke it out for the first time last week... not because it hadn't been cold or rainy before that point, but it was the first time they had teamed up on the same day so far this fall

the rain gear is designed with two purposes in mind: to make you invincible to the elements, and to make you visible to everyone. it is thick, heavy, completely non-porous (it's like the opposite of gore-tex: guaranteed to keep the weather out, but you just may drown in your own perspiration), and bright, rubber-ducky yellow. it makes you look like you're a giant, humanoid, walking/talking banana. i hadn't dared to wear it previously, knowing that being as readily inclined to perspiration as i usually am, there was a distinct possibility that i might actually sweat to death. so i was sort of looking forward to the appropriate time to use the rain gear, in a morbid sort of way...


that is, until i actually did get to use it



it kept me mostly dry, and i stayed warm. those are both good things. but the gear fit me so poorly that the pants didn't come down quite to the tops of my boots, which somehow made the already comical outfit even more rediculous looking. and the hood on the rain jacket wouldn't stay on my head, as it blew backwards everytime i faced into the wind (which was quite often)

plus, i looked like a giant banana.


the best (worst?) part was towards the end of the day... it had been raining buckets all morning long, but just about an hour before the end of my shift, it stopped. suddenly. and the sun came out. good news, right? not if you're a mile from the truck, and you're stuck wearing the banana suit the whole walk back

if you're wearing rain gear in the rain, you look ready. prepared. hardcore. but if you're wearing rain gear when the sun is out, you look...

weird.

crazy.

perhaps even slightly maniacal.


all i know is, i got some strange looks. i wanted to make a sign and paste it on my back: "it was raining when i put it on!"


there's probably a moral in that story somewhere, but for the life of me i'm not sure where. oh well.




and.... i was going to put a couple of pictures here, but it's taking way too long to upload them since the connection keeps flaking out. so just use your imagination. as for me, i'm going to take a nap.

the holidays are here

thanksgiving has come and gone. i love thanksgiving for many reasons, but perhaps the greatest singular advantage is has over other holidays in my mind is the pure simplicity which still surround it. we don’t buy thanksgiving presents, send thanksgiving cards, have thanksgiving-eve services at church, have thanksgiving cookouts at the beach, shoot off thanksgiving fireworks, or anything like that. nope... we (i’ll presumptuously speak for all of the united states here) simply visit friends and family, eat a lot of turkey, assorted vegetables, and pie(s), and perhaps watch some football. that’s it. the consumerist aspect of the holiday is entirely concentrated within the realm of food purchases for the thanksgiving feast... which, the sin of gluttony aside, is not nearly as far removed from providing from our basic needs as the shamrockery (it’s a new word: a combination of ‘sham,’ ‘mockery,’ and ‘shamrock’) which christmas has sadly become

speaking of christmas: i highly recommend visiting adventconspiracy.org before you go out and do your christmas shopping for the year. even if you don’t agree, it’s a thought worth considering

also on the must-visit list for websites is freerice.com. now, lest you succumb to the delusion that you are actually providing vast quantities of rice for malnourished people around the world, let me quickly put a damper on that assumption. on average, a pound of rice is made up of 29,000 grains, so if you do the math it would take you quite a while to “donate” even that fairly miniscule amount of rice. however, the website is a great way to waste time... errr... to boost your vocabulary, and feel slightly productive while doing so. so i recommend it for those reasons

it bothers me slightly when the christian community mobilizes its forces to preserve the “sanctity of marriage.” it seems that we’ve already missed the boat; if we truly cared about the sanctity of marriage, between one man and one woman, wouldn’t that be reflected in our lifestyles? sure, gay marriage may still be taboo in most congregations, but where is our outrage over divorce? infidelity? adultery? when was the last time you heard of a tv network being boycotted because a majority of the characters on it’s prime time programs had been previously divorced?

everyone knows that a marriage between two professing christians is every bit as likely (and, depending on what report you look at, perhaps even slightly more likely) to end in divorce as a marriage between non-believers. shouldn’t this ginormous problem within the church be the focus of our efforts and the center of our struggle before we begin trying to convince the world that yeah, we’re pretty serious about this marriage thing?

maybe our time, money, and energies would be better spent on repairing, preserving, and sustaining marriages that already exist. maybe the couple across the street from us needs some encouragement. maybe i can stay in touch with that friend from college who just got married, and pray for him and his new family. maybe i can pay for some counseling for a couple i know who desperately needs it but can’t afford it. maybe...

maybe i don’t know what i’m talking about

whatever the case, it’s a thought that occurred to me earlier this week, and i thought i’d pass it along. feedback is welcome, as always

fun football fact for the week: the new england patriots have a chance to become the first team ever to go undefeated, win the superbowl, AND have the rights to the first overall draft pick the following year...

ahh, it’s good to be a sports fan in new england these days

26? me? no way

so, i'm older. somehow it feels like the years are exponentially increasing in their ability to relegate me to "old man" status. sure, 26 still sounds young... until you realize that you're closer to 30 than you are to 20. yikes. 25 can still be considered "early 20's" if you spin it the right way, but at 26, there's no denying it... it's middle-twenties at best, late-twenties at worst

sometimes i try and imagine what it would like to be young again, and to meet my present self. would i be happy with how i turned out? would i be excited to learn what i would have done, where i would have gone, who i would have for friends? i think i would. in some ways, i've accomplished next to nothing during my time on earth; i still don't have a "real" job, i'm about eight zillion light years away from owning a house, i don't even have a car (or a moped for that matter... dangit) and i only recently finished my undergraduate degree after cramming four years of college into seven years of life. but, on the other hand, i've done a fair bit of traveling. i've gone skydiving. i have an amazing assortment of friends scattered across the globe. i've learned how to surf. it's hard to contrast and compare different paths and experiences... would i have had a better life if i had gotten a great job right out of college, gotten married right away and bought a house which now housed two children? who knows. all i know is, i wouldn't trade the life i've lived for any other one...


(not that i could, but you get the point)


i've been doing a considerable amount of pondering and praying recently as to what the rest of my life should look like. the questions aren't new: "where should i live? what should i do for work? what does God want of me?" but for the first time, i think i know the answer. and it's not surprising... at least, it shouldn't have been, but it was/is nonetheless. rather than try and articulate it myself, i'm including the following quote from a book by Henri Nouwen. he was in the process of trying to decide whether he was being called to minister in latin america when he came to the following realization/conclusion:


"Today, I realized that the question of where to live and what to do is really insignificant compared to the question of how to keep the eyes of my heart focused on the Lord. I can be teaching at Yale, working in the bakery at Genesee Abbey, or walking around with poor children in Peru and feel totally useless, miserable, and depressed in all these situations. I am sure of it, because it has happened. There is not such a thing as the right place or the right job. I can be happy and unhappy in all situations. I am sure of it, because I have been. I have felt joyful in situations of abundance as well as poverty, in situations of popularity and anonymity, in situations of success and failure. The difference was never based on the situation itself, but always on my state of mind and heart. When I knew that I was walking with the Lord, I always felt happy and at peace. When I was entangled in my own complaints and emotional needs, I always felt restless and divided. It is a simple truth that comes to me at a time when I have to decide about my future. Coming to Lima or not for five, ten, or twenty years is no great decision. Turning fully, unconditionally, and without fear to the Lord is. I am sure this awareness sets me free to look around here without much worrying and binds me to the holy call to pray unceasingly."




wait a second: don't just skim/skip over that rather lengthy quote: it's worth reading in it's entirety. take your time... there's no hurry


(done? good)

i think most christians know that... but i don't think we (or, at least, i... i'll speak for myself here) fully comprehend how deep and true it is. the will of God for me is to walk with the Lord. that's it. everything else is secondary. while he does care what we do, where we live, and all that jazz, it will all fall into place if we are first and foremost seeking after God, and walking with him


i wrote the following over the summer while i was contemplating the same theme... it's nowhere near as eloquent as Nouwen puts it, and i failed to internalize what i was writing at the time, but looking back at it now it rings truer than i realized at the time...


sometimes i wish for a
profound revelation,
a signpost in the sky that points me
towards the life meant to be

sometimes i hope for
and angel to whisper in my ear,
turn my shoulders and guide me
towards God

sometimes i long for
a letter, which would read
something like this:

"dear You;
work here,
marry her,
travel there,
follow this path.
signed, God."

but the mailbox is empty
every time i check

then one day the thought occured,
what if my vision
of wisdom
is slightly blurred?
maybe God wants me to live,
wants me to choose,
wants me to use
what i already know to give
powerful meaning to the choices i make,
places i go,
people i date

maybe he wants me to grow up,
stop talking,
start walking

maybe God likes it when i

just

do

something.

perhaps i already know God's will;
it's to love
and to live
a life in which sin has already been killed.
a life which is focused
on loving God,
and others much more
than even myself

everything else falls into place
once i realize my call
and follow my Lord,
my all in all


in other news... the surf session last weekend was great. the waves were a little out of my league (consistently overhead sets, with some double-overhead sets rolling in), but it was great to be out in the water once again. poseidon worked me over pretty good on a few monsters that i foolishly tried to catch, but i did manage to snake in a couple decent rides in spite of the crazy-big conditions and over-crowded water. who ever would have thought that the ocean in maine in NOVEMBER would be a popular place to be, but apparently surfing is becoming increasingly popular in the north. there were a few canucks in the water, which was slightly disconcerting. their motto: "Canadians: now here year-round!" great


and on that note, it's time for my second supper.... adios

storm's brewing...

i'm getting excited... we've got a huge storm rolling in later this afternoon/tonight which is supposed to kick up some seriously large swell for tomorrow. my mom is graciously allowing me to borrow her van tomorrow afternoon, so i should be able to get some surfing in for the first time in a looong time. i'm almost antsy with anticipation. let me offer this piece of advice: don't ever learn to surf. not because it isn't fun, or thrilling, or exhilarating, or even a spiritual experience, because it is all of those and more... but it's also incredibly addictive. i'm not even very good at surfing, but it's still managed to sink it's enticing lures into my dreams and desires. it's like that verse in song of solomon that recommends to "not arouse or awaken love until it so desires." don't ever start surfing unless you can keep doing it with something bordering on regularity. that's my word of wisdom for the day

my roommate and i went kayaking almost every day after work this week. the weather was great, and we were trying to take advantage of the last week before the time change (sidenote: is daylight savings time beginning or ending? and why do we still observe this arcane practice of screwing with our sleep schedules twice a year? i think the whole thing is rediculous). yesterday we kayaked down the spurwink river and out beyond the mouth to a small little island which lay a little ways out in the ocean. it was gorgeous... we saw several great blue herons, countless ducks and other assorted waterfowl, and one fairly gregarious harbor seal. but the best sight of all was the sunset... oh sweet heavens. watching the sun set over the land from the ocean was a perfect capstone to a great day and a superb week. adding to the specialness of the event was the knowledge that it would probably be our last time out kayaking this year... the water is getting a little cold to be safely paddling without wetsuits, and the shortening of the afternoon daylight hours available means that our almost ritualistic post-work paddles won't be possible anymore. ah well... it's been a great run

every time i'm in the portland public library (which i am right now), there's a slightly eccentric person who sits at the same table and has this enormous stamp collection that he appears to be sorting through. i'm not sure what he does with his stamps exactly... he appears to just be arranging and rearranging them into giant squares of stamps. intriguing.

i FINALLY got my "official" uniforms for work earlier this week. i was pretty stoked... right up until i put the pants on. they fit o.k., but they feel like they were made from inexpensive burlap. not even nice burlap, but really crappy, junky, scruffy burlap. the kind that chafes your thighs when you walk, which is exactly what the pants did to me. the first day wasn't too bad, but the next day it started to get downright painful to walk. so i said to myself, "forget this, i'm not wearing the worst pair of pants in the history of the world even if someone else does wash them for me," and went home and changed into my own pants. much better. i plan on never wearing the pants from hades ever again if it can be helped

i was actually getting resentful about the pants. i kept thinking to myself, "after all the hard work i do and have done, this is the reward i get? the worst pants ever? gee, thanks for nothing." then i realized the trap i was falling into... should i necessarily expect free pants? no, i suppose not. but because they were provided, i automatically assumed that i then had a right to free pants. and from that position, i leaped to the assumption that i was due not only free pants, but free pants that were comfortable to wear. if all i had been told was that i would be getting some shirts, a sweater, a few t-shirts and a jacket, would i have been happy? no... i would have been thrilled to death. so perhaps my attitude shouldn't be one of discontent because the pants are horrible, but one of thankfulness that i even got pants at all, not to mention some other assorted items of clothing


it's all about perspective. and, admittedly, i usually look at things the wrong way. but i'm trying to change that.



"never look a gift horse in the mouth?" too arcane and outdated. thus i propose the following in it's place: "don't expect free pants to fit."

sweet victory

i'm beginning to feel slightly spoiled... two world series titles? in four years? not to mention three (going on four) super bowl victories for the patriots in this century. it's a good time to be a new england sports fan

i stayed up until the final pitch last night; i didn't get to see their clinching victory in 2004, and i wasn't about to miss the chance to see them wrap it up this year. you never know, it might be another 86 years until their next one, and i'd hate to think i missed the chance to see them clinch the title

now perhaps life can return to normal... my evening activities won't be dictated by whether the red sox are playing or not, and i can start paying off some of the sleep debt i've accumulated. it's all worth it, though... isn't it? or is it? after all, it's just a game; is a game worth losing sleep for? is it worth wearing your lucky red socks for several games without washing them? should i start listening to a band other than the dropkick murphys? or, more importantly, have i been a good steward of my time?



ah, screw it. i'll leave the deep questions for sometime else. right now i'm euphoric, exhausted, and slightly hungry. perhaps a glass of egg nog and a nap are in order....



mmhmm, yes they are


in conclusion, a token manny ramirez quote from before game four: "You can't eat your cake before it's your birthday." um... yes. i concur.

it's been a busy month.

musical mysticism

i’ve always been fascinated by horoscopes. i don’t mean that they fascinate me in the sense that i find myself believing in them, trusting them, or putting much stock in their claims whatsoever. what fascinates me is that they invariably use some sort of ranking system (in addition to their brief daily life forecast) to predict how good a day you will have. the local paper uses stars, of all things (how appropriate). but in all the years that i’ve been checking the paper, i’ve never seen someone’s day get assigned as few as two stars. definitely never just one. how can that be? surely there’s a chance that every now and then (sometimes more often than not), we’re going to have an absolute crap day. they can’t predict that? maybe it’s just me... but i find that fairly amusing. it’d be like predicting sunny skies with a light ocean breeze and temperatures in the 80’s... every single day of the year

anyways, i decided to borrow and slightly manipulate a different formula for both predicting the future, interpreting the past and understanding the present. i call it...

“the all-wise ipod”

simply devise a list of questions for your favorite media player, and then set it to play on random. carefully record the song titles as they come up, in order, and write them below the corresponding questions. you can use pre-existing questions, make up your own, or do some combination of the two. you may be surprised at how well your music knows you, and how accurate (or disturbing) some of it’s answers may be. two ground rules: no cheating with the answers (you have to listen to what your ipod tells you, even if it doesn’t make any sense), and you can’t make any important life decisions based on what your ipod tells you. i mean, really... would you trust a cheap piece of electronics to tell you what to do with your life, or an eternally optimistic newspaper horoscope? exactly.

so without further ado, here are all of my life’s questions answered for me...

1. how am i feeling today?
Hope Falls

2. will i get far in life?
Beautiful America

3. how do my friends see me?
Television

4. will i ever get married, and if so to whom?
Mr. Crowley (hands down winner for "most disturbing answer")

5. will I have a meaningful career?
Superstar

6. what is the story of my life?
Keep Movin’

7. if i had to describe my college life in one phrase, what would it be?
The Gladiator Waltz

8. how can i succeed in life?
Twilight and Shadows

9. what is the best thing about me?
In the End

10. how is today going to be?
Stars

11. what is in store for this weekend?
Faking Life

12. what song describes my family?
Learning to Breathe

13. if i had a dish at a restaurant named after me, what would it be?
This Is Your Life

14. how is my life going?
Citylights

15. what will be my last words before i die?
Hate (I Really Don’t Like You)

16. what song will they play at my funeral?
Light at my Feet

17. how does the world see me?
Green and Gray

18. what do my friends really think of me?
Someone to Die For

19. do people secretly lust after me?
Poparazzi

20. how can i make myself happy?
Railway

21. what should i do with my life?
Lie

22. where should i live?
Breakfast at Timpani’s

23. what is some good advice for me?:
Pootermobile

24. what's that smell?
Giant Squid!

25. what should be my signature karate move?
You Take My Heart Away

26. how do i feel after i eat fast food?
Two Hornpipes

27. should i consider a career as a pirate?
Don’t Underestimate

28. if i were to change my name to something exotic, what would it be?
About a Burning Fire

29. what is the meaning of life?
The Meaning of it all

30. should i ever try and juggle live grenades?
God help the outcast

i'm too amazed to respond to most of those answers... i bow before the supreme wisdom of technology

malaprop mom

my mom is an amazing source of wisdom. however, much of her knowledge tends to be imparted in a very nontraditional way. she has perfected the art of the "unintentionally wise mis-quote," wherein she rearranges, mashes, slices and dices well-known sayings into new, unusual, and yet surprisingly insightful quotes. for instance, the following are but a few of her many gems from over the years...

"the kids are eating like weeds these days"
"he's a chip off the old shoulder"
"no skin off my bones"

...and so on. but today, she came up with perhaps her best work yet. on the way home from the beach, the topic of conversation happened to land on a certain individual (anonymous and unimportant), about whom my mother made the following observation:

"he's a swell of a nice guy"


misspoken? perhaps. but nonetheless, it's yet another entry into the"mom-isms" book of lore

five-alarm.... spaghetti?

i almost burnt the house down this afternoon.

all i was trying to do was make some supper. i chopped up some onions and a christmas-colored array of peppers, and was preparing to sauté them for inclusion in a spaghetti sauce, when all hell broke loose...

please correct me if i made any egregious errors, committed some safety faux pas, or violated a cooking taboo in the following steps:

1. place pan on stovetop
2. cover bottom of pan in oil
3. turn burner on
4. let pan heat up for two minutes prior to adding onions and peppers

did i do something wrong? i don't think so. but when i came back into the kitchen after only a couple minutes away (i was on a bathroom break, ok? i'm sure even emeril takes one every now and then), there was smoke billowing out of the pot

big, black clouds of smoke


(even i know that's not good)

so i went over to the stove, started to reach over the pot to turn off the burner, when all of a sudden GIANT FLAMES leaped up at me. yikes. so i did what any rational person would have done in that situation...


i jumped about five feet in the air and screamed like a girl


then i grabbed some potholders, latched onto the flaming pot of death, and was getting ready to make a dash for the door, when one of the potholders caught on fire and immediately started to singe my thumb. so i went to plan C (plan B is always "hide," but i decided that it didn't really fit in this particular scenario), and threw the pot into the sink and turned the water on full blast

i knew in the back of my head that water isn't supposed to be used to put out a grease fire, but i wasn't thinking with my head. i was thinking with my thumb; a thumb which was being severely singed. so on went the water, which of course caused burning lava hot fiery oil to spatter everywhere, but mostly on the already afflicted thumb. not only that, but even bigger clouds of billowing black smoke started to fill the room, and all the fire alarms in the apartment simultaneously started to sound

at this point i started to get a little nervous... because, after all, if water won't put a fire out, what on earth will? fortunately the flames died down within a few more seconds, then went out altogether, and i was left with

• one crispy potholder
• second-degree burns on my thumb
• three shrieking fire alarms
  
• four rooms completely filled with acrid smoke

eventually the smoke went away (not on its own; it required much vigorous coercing to leave the premises), the alarms stopped their assault on my inner ear, and i resumed my attempt to cook supper. the slight delay only served to deepen my hunger, and thus i enjoyed my meal all the more so, knowing that i braved fire, smoke, and boiling lava hot burning oil to make myself a meal


there's probably a lesson in there somewhere... i like to ask myself after a difficult scenario "what can i learn from this?" in this case, i'm not sure what the lesson should be; i honestly don't think i did anything wrong. i guess i can chalk it up to a freak occurrence of nature; either that or gremlins, but definitely one of the two

maybe the lesson is to prepare myself for the unexpected; as much as i like to think that i'm ready for anything life should throw at me, i think i'm starting to realize that's not necessarily the case. i should hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. the easier times in life should be enjoyed, but also utilized as a means of preparing for darker days ahead, both physically and spiritually. we would label a man who didn't save any money aside for later in life when he may not be able to work as "foolish," but what do we call the christian who isn't taking advantage of the time given them to prepare for battles that may lay right over the horizon?

hmm


maybe that's a bit of a stretch, but there it is. that's what i learned today... that, and beware of pots containing hot oil




(gosh, anybody in the middle ages could have told me that)

calling all canines

memo to all dogs in the greater portland area:


i come in peace.

if you don't try to eat me, i will give you dog biscuits

if you try to eat me, i will punch you in the face and then spray mace in your eyeballs

i am not a burglar. i am not a kidnapper. i am not an evil vacuum cleaner salesman. i am not a walking steak. i am a meter reader, who only needs about fifteen seconds in your yard. then i will go, and leave you alone

please don't sneak up behind me and then bark really loud. it makes me jump very high and very far


we can be friends. but friends don't bite each other.


down boy. good boy.

food

i'm currently reading South by Ernest Shackleton, his memoirs from the failed voyage of the (poorly named) Endurance in an attempt to land on and then traverse across antartica. fascinating stuff. i've read some excerpts from his memoirs before, but never the entire thing. shackleton was quite the chap, well worthy of the knighthood he eventually received (and i'm only halfway through the book). he had a keen sense of how very important food was to maintaining the morale of the men once adversity had overtaken them and they were stranded on an ice floe, as well as understanding how far a man will go to feed his appetite. he writes the following:

when one is hungry, fastidiousness goes to the winds and one is only too glad to eat up any scraps, regardless of their antecedents. one is almost ashamed to write of all the little tidbits one has picked up here, but it is enough to say that when the cook upset some pemmican on to an old sooty cloth and threw it outside his galley, one man subsequently made a point of acquiring it and scraping off the palatable but dirty compound. another man searched for over an hour in the snow where he had dropped a piece of cheese some days before, in the hopes of finding a few crumbs. he was rewarded by coming across a piece as big as his thumb-nail, and considered it well worth the trouble. (p. 112)


now that's my kind of crew! see, my eating habits aren't that unusual after all... they're just out of place and in the wrong century. it takes hard work and a lack of sustenance to make you really appreciate food. for instance, today i forgot to bring my lunch with me. i had already made up some tuna fish last night, so it would be easy as pie to make a sandwich before i left this morning, but in my early-morning state of befuddlement i walked out the door sans sandwich. i did have a few granola bars, which were able to stave off the giant until i arrived home, but once i got back to the apartment i devoured what might possibly have been the most delectable, delicious, and scrumptious tuna fish sandwich ever made by human hands


sometimes, it's good to go without, if only to remind us of just how good we really have it


that's why fasting is such a brilliant idea. not only does it remind us of just how delicious food is, and how necessary it is to survival, but in the right context fasting also can remind us that it isn't all about the here and the now. we should hunger and thirst after righteousness far more than we do after physical food


i know that's not the case with me. i'll admit it, i'm ruled by my stomach. one of the first phrases i learned in latvia this summer was "ya hachu yest," which roughly means "i want to eat." i didn't learn "jesus loves you," or "His grace is greater than your sins"... nope. i want to eat.



what do i want more, food or God? i know what the right answer should be... i'm just not sure it's the real one



(yet)

a soporific sunday

i have to admit... today marks a low point in my brief "life without a car"

there's a picture-perfect, 4-foot-with-a-16-second-interval swell hitting the coast, and i have no way to get down there with my trusty board, the white pearl:

rain, sleet, and snow couldn't stop me last year; but now a simple lack of transportation is enough to keep me from the beach. i spent the last five minutes watching beautiful, glassy, perfectly formed chest-high waves rolling on the higgins beach webcam, then realized i was drooling on my keyboard

(not a good idea)

but it's ok. i can wait a little longer for the stars to align so i can get back down to the beach. it's just killing me to be so close, but so far

other than that, life is good. there was an amazing prayer in the bulletin at church this morning which i wrote down in my notebook. i'm forever making notes in the bulletin, then forgetting all about them and tossing the whole bundle into the trash. but this was good enough to warrant copying down to ensure it's preservation in my personal records. here it is:

Lord, I do not know what to ask of you.
Only you know what I need.
You love me better than I know how to love myself.
Father, give to your child that which he himself knows not how to ask.

Strike or heal, depress me or raise me up:
I adore all your purposes without knowing them.

I am silent;

I offer myself up in sacrifice;
I yield myself to you;
I would have no other desire than to accomplish your will.

Teach me to pray.
Pray in me.

Amen

(Francois Fenelon, 1651-1715)


that's a tough prayer. not sure i'll ever be able to say it and completely mean it, but that's where i want to be


i moved the last of my stuff out of my parents garage where i'd been storing a few random things (bike, surfboard, sled, hatchet, spider-man towel), and did some grocery shopping this afternoon. normally i try and avoid most commercial activities on a sunday, but this was one of those times when i needed more food than i could carry, and had access to a vehicle (thanks to my mom). so i loaded up with groceries, hopefully enough to last me for a couple weeks, dropped my stuff off, and then returned the van and biked back home. now i'm getting ready to spend the rest of the evening chillaxing, cooking some supper and doing some reading before i head to bed


(i didn't get a nap today... hence the title of the post)


i just realized, this could quite possibly have been the most boring-est post ever. i'll end the agony by ceasing to type and starting to stir-fry

that's "mister meter reader" to you

today i started my new job


it rocked my face off


in case you didn't know, i am now an employee of the portland water district as a water-meter-reader (i love the way that rolls off the tongue: watermeterreader. it should be all one word, it flows so well). so far, here's my list of what rocks and what doesn't about the job:

What Rocks:

• i get to drive, walk, and generally traverse the greater portland area all day, every day
• hours: 6:30-2:30. plenty of time to run errands, nap, surf, or just do whatever in the afternoons
• they supply uniforms. oh sweet heavens. check out the sweet t-shirts they gave me to get started:
  
• not only am i supplied with rain gear, uniforms, sweet orange vests, and a happening ID badge, but i also receive a $90 boot allowance per calender year. um, hello, is this heaven?
• outdoors, all day, every day
• near complete autonomy; i leave in the morning, gas up my truck, and don't come back until the end of the shift. they trust you to stay busy and be productive in the meantime without any cumbersome oversight or meddling
• i'm part of an elite crowd of service professionals: just like the mail men, utility workers and the like, i get friendly waves and pleasant greetings all day long

What Doesn't:

• being outdoors every day, all day means you encounter the worst that the weather gods have to offer. fortunately, i've already seen the worst, and i know i can handle it
• some dogs have a hard time distinguishing between "menacing predator" and "friendly meter reader." hence the cane of mace we get issued. it does say on the can that it's "effectiveness against trained attack dogs has not been proven." let's hope i don't encounter any of those
• tired, worn out jokes, such as "hey, don't bother reading my meter, i didn't use any water this month." hahahashutup.
  
• once again, i'm working a job that has absolutely nothing to do with my major. is this the sort of job a 25-year-old with a college degree should be working? absolutely not. but am i excited about it anyways? you bet. that may or may not be a good thing

so there you have it. i'm sure more details will follow in the weeks to come as i learn more about the job. as for now, i have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my hands that is in desperate needs of being eaten. seeya

greyhound is for the dogs

for some unknown reason (actually, it is known: money) i decided to take the bus back from ohio after spending some time out there going to weddings, visiting friends and riding roller coasters. so, i just got back from a marathon bus ride of nearly 20 hours. needless to say, i'm more than a little tired. but before i get too much further, i figured i'd transcribe a running diary i kept during the past day:

8:46 PM- just got my tickets at the Greyhound bus terminal in Cleveland, which in itself was a fairly arduous task. there was only one lady at the ticket counter, and she seemed to have an amazing propensity for taking extended breaks whenever a queue started to form. that behind me, i've taken the liberty to do some exploring. the terminal looks very clean, modern, and well-kept, but in reality it's pretty junky. the urinals don't flush, not a single one of the bathroom sinks work, and the water from the water fountains quite literally tastes like feces (not that i would know... it's just an educated guess). other than that, it's a great place. dave was generous enough to drive me over here, so counting the ferry ride from kelley's island and the drive over here i've already been mobile since 6:30. i've already met two interesting people: one guy who asked if i had any rolling papers for "cigarettes" while i was getting my stuff out of the van, and a lady who is traveling out to arizona to visit her trucker boyfriend who is recovering from being shot. needless to say, i feel slightly out of place at the moment

9:01 pm- supposedly you're not supposed to carry anything on a bus that you couldn't on an airplane. yeah, right. i'll be impressed if they find my pocket knife buried in my backpack without the aid of metal detectors. in other news... there's eight main doors in the terminal, each leading to a bus bound for different locations (at least, i assume they lead to a bus; what if it was a magic portal that immediately relocated you at your desired destination? i'd pay good money for that kind of service). most of the doors have a long lineup of bags in front of them, but the doors leading to pittsburgh and detroit are, surprisingly enough, completely devoid of any luggage. draw your own conclusions

9:18 pm- there's a guy here who looks exactly like joe montana. i'm pretty sure he's not, though. partly because i'm not sure why joe montana would be at a bus station in cleveland, but mostly because this "faux joe" is wearing a t-shirt that has the phrase "redneck entertainment system" emblazoned over a picture of a giant keg. but who knows. on the other extreme, a preppy looking kid carrying a large abercrombie and fitch shopping bag just got off of a bus and is waiting in line for another. i'm not sure he'll survive the night

9:36 pm-just for the record: i'm officially regretting not having paid the extra sixty bucks or so that it would have cost to fly home

9:51 pm- it just occurred to me that ever since 9/11, airports terminals have lost their top spot in the "best last chance to say goodbye locations" list. it's just not the same bidding someone farewell from the parking lot, or in front of a cantankerous security guard. train and bus stations might be the only forms of public transportation that allow you to say goodbye and then actually watch someone leave

10:06 pm- he's not joe montana. he's a heavy machine operator from pennsylvania on assignment in ohio, doing construction work at new ethanol plants. i just had to ask

10:17 pm- since this bus is ultimately bound for boston, i've decided to kick off my playlist for the evening with all the songs i have that mention boston. so far, all i've been able to come up with are "boston," by augustana; "shipping off to boston," by the dropkick murphys; and "the pirate who don't do anything," as performed by relient k. my bus drivers name is lenny. he just informed us that everyone needs to get off the bus in buffalo, at the ungodly hour of 2am. why, i don't know. all i know is that right now, i need some sleep. i had the foresight to acquire a window seat on the drivers side of the bus; my thought is that since we're headed east, that would place me on the north side of the bus for the majority of the bus, thus shielding me from the sun for the greatest possible time. brilliant, eh?

2:06 am- i think i slept some, but i'm not sure. all i know right now is that i just brushed my teeth, so i feel slightly more human. i've been told we're in buffalo. it could be a lie. the bathroom here is worse than the one in cleveland, which is saying something. i feel like i have a hangover. i should find the bus again and get back on it. ugh. ugh times a million.

4:18 am- there is water dripping on me from somewhere. i know i didn't dream it, because it woke me up, and then i felt it again. where would water be coming from? it's not raining out. is someone spitting at me? maybe it's a snake; they spit, don't they? so do camels, and llamas. maybe it's a llamel snake. i should try to get back to sleep, drip or no drip

5:50 am- rest stop in syracuse; i think this means a third of the trip (time-wise) has been completed. that's one part encouraging, and two parts horrid. i finally pinpointed the drip, once it got light enough out; it must be from condensation from the air conditioner. fortunately, i had my emergency roll of duct tape handy, so i covered up the leaky spot which seems to have solved the problem for now... however, the lady in front of me just started to complain that she was getting wet, so i may have inadvertently diverted the deluge rather than fixing anything. i just met a guy who is on his way to south china, maine, where my family lived when i was younger. what a small world. not many people know where south china is, let alone erskine academy and chadwick hill drive and all the other random spots in a small town that no-one who hasn't or doesn't live there would care about. i think i should eat a granola bar

7:25 am- i still feel incredibly sleep deprived: i feel like i've taken eight half-hour naps, rather than getting any sleep of real substance. small and uncomfortable seats, coupled with a re-emerging drip (applied liberal amounts of duct tape this time), no doubt have contributed to my lack of any real sleep

8:56 am- schenectady?

9:10 am- i think i'm awake for good now... can't seem to get back to sleep. the sun is out and i'm hungry; unfortunately, my stash of granola bars (now down to one) is stowed above my head, and the guy between me and the aisle is sound asleep. i'll hold off for now

12:15 pm- it's hard to write when the bus is moving, hence the increasingly sporadic nature of my entries. the bus has quite the rattle to it, which makes for a rough ride. i finally managed to grab my last granola bar, but that has long since worn off and i'm ravishingly hungry yet again. we're passing through worcester, ma right now, which is sort of discouraging: it's only a 2.5 hour drive from here to portland, but i have 6+ hours of travel time left due to a stop and layover in boston. traveling by bus is definitely cheaper than pretty much any other mode of travel... but, you get what you pay for

1:32 pm- boston. finally. now i have a two-and-a-half hour layover... yippee. a salad from mcd's, some pretzels, a coke, and a pack of gum serve to make me feel slightly more human

2:10 pm- the terminal smells like sweaty armpits. so i head outdoors, where it's beastly hot but at least there's some fresh air and the sun is shining. i've been indoors for far too long

3:05 pm- back inside. had a very interesting conversation with a guy named joe, who also happens to be bound for portland. he seems to have a genuine love for the Lord, attends church and knows the Word, but he's also a very strong proponent of the wacky tobaccy. he's had a rough past couple years; spent some time in prison for various charges, but now has a decent job and seems to be seeking and searching. had a long talk about marijuana, and why he thinks that it's perfectly legitimate for a christian to use it. i have to admit, he made some pretty convincing points, but at the end of the matter i just encouraged him to make sure that there wasn't anything keeping him from God that he was granting too much influence in his life. he was telling me he used to live in alaska on a large lake populate by inland seals, and that they had ginormous teeth and were the "wolverines of the water." joe also said that he had personally seen a wolverine take down a bear. of course, he did also say that "it can be hard to play the guitar when you're on acid," so i'm taking everything with a grain of salt. even so, i wouldn't want to mess with a wolverine. or one of those psycho seals.

3:55 pm- out of the terminal, onto the bus for the last 2-hour leg home. the bus is only about 1/3 full, so at long last there's plenty of room to stretch out

6:00 pm- portland. at long, long last. i just realized that i have zero food in the house, so i swing by the "save-a-lot" on my walk back to the apartment and pick up some bread, pb&j, some milk, and a tin of herring

6:30 pm- home. sweet, wonderful home. i survived. shower. bed. work tomorrow? at 6:30? wake up at 5? those thoughts don't matter. all i know is that right now i'm this close to being clean, full, and asleep, a three-for-one combo that has eluded me for quite awhile. g'night, world

the beginning

(a very good place to start)


this past march, i almost bought a moped.

i had just sold my car, and was going to use some of the cash to buy the hottest things on two wheels, a 2007 honda ruckus. unfortunately, i didn't have quite enough cash on hand to get the deal done, and because i've decided to shun debt like the plague (wish i had decided that before i went to college, but that's another story) i had to walk away, empty handed


it was a sad moment


fast forward almost five months later... i just recently returned home after a month and a half in europe on a missions trip. i'm broke, don't have any form of transportation other than my bike and my own two feet, and am trying to figure out where to go from here. despite all that, life's never been better. i'm getting ready to go camping with my family for a week, then they will drop me off in ohio where i have a wedding to be in (thankfully not my own), and some friends to visit. i'll take a bus back, and then start work exactly two weeks from today

my plan is to avoid buying a car for as long as possible. i realize that at some point it may become unavoidable, but for now i quite honestly have no desperate need to buy a fancy form of transportation that, quite frankly, i can't afford right now anyways. work is an nine minute walk, the grocery store is a twelve minute jaunt, and church is a mere forty-five minutes away by foot (all much shorter by bike). and should i need to go further, there's always the local bus service. ideally, i'll be able to find a used honda ruckus sometime within the next couple months, at which point my wanderings will know almost no bounds. but for now, i can be content to bum around portland for a while. i've fed my wanderlust enough as of late to keep it quiet for a little while yet


so here i am. where do i go from here? who knows. i'm trying to keep it simple, focus on one day at a time. and today, i have to pack. and then sleep. tomorrow, i leave for somewhere. what more do i need to know?

coming soon...

you may have heard of the motorcycle diaries, the autobiographical account of Che Guevara's travels through south america


well, i may not have a motorcycle (or a diary, for that matter. i prefer the term "journal, thank you very much. diaries are for girls), but i will soon have a moped - pending the sale of my car and the purchase of said moped. but hopefully this will be the start of something good... a simpler life, traveling in the slow lane, enjoying the moment rather than watching it fly by on the highway


so... stay tuned. good times are around the corner