a wannabe intellectual?

I've been avoiding my computer screen, or at least this blogger create a new post screen all weekend. I've wandered around my house, trying desperately to convince myself of a number of things, and to avoid thinking about a number of other things. It's funny in that odd coincidence sort of way that I almost always discover things about myself when my parents leave town and my house is empty of most of the tension that exists over the course of a normal day or week.

This week I've found myself wondering if anything I write, anything I do, really matters? I mean, do you really care that I made chicken with pesto for dinner on Friday night, that I painted my toenails twice over the course of the weekend, that I watched a couple of movies, went to the Stampede to do rides with friends, and went to an awesome concert last night with my baby brother? (and just as an aside - it was a Christian concert, and my brother and I decided that Christians really don't "rock out" very well. The band did, and some of the crowd, but the band had to work pretty hard to get the crowd into it. Too bad, 'cause the concert really was amazing, well worth the price of the ticket!) If I was one of those people who smoothly managed to find a "spiritual" reason, or a tie-in to faith in everything, if I somehow made each episode of my life an object lesson, would that add significance where it feels as if there isn't any? Or is life really only about the mundane occurrences, with the occasional moment where faith and spirituality springs to prominence?

Don't get me wrong, life has actually been fairly good lately, with a few marked discouragements or challenges, but I feel odd to even mention or complain about those, because they're insignificant in comparison to the things I faced over the course of five years of depression.

And I discovered something about myself over the course of the weekend. I hide, even in writing where I tend to be most honest, bits and pieces of myself. I have a burning desire to be accepted as an intellectual - as a bright, intelligent person with something of substance to contribute to the world. And yet, most days I feel inadequate. I hide the parts of myself that I have associated with a lack of substance. For instance, I love to read fiction - not weighty, intellectual classics, but historical fiction, romantic stories, anything light and fluffy. I read probably 4 or 5 novels of this sort a week on average. I bought the latest issue of Oprah's magazine last week. (Now you need to understand that I realize that most of the world thinks of Oprah as a woman of substance, but I grew up in a home where my dad poo-pooed anything in the talk show or reality television format, and so I am predisposed to be embarrassed at purchasing something like a magazine with her name on the cover.) I bought the magazine because it had an article written by one of my favorite non-fiction writers (Anne Lamott) - plus, it was the summer reading issue and I thought I might pick up a few recommendations on some good novels to read. Lamott's article was great - what I hesitate to admit because I fear it will taint the perception of myself as intelligent is that I just as eagerly read the article on "How men really feel about breast implants," the article that tells you how to best deal with curly hair in the midst of summer's heat and humidity, the article on how a variety of writers display their libraries, and the article with pictures of the best outfits for under $300.

I recently picked up my diploma from the university, and, in a moment of pride as I came home, showed it to my dad. He studied it for a moment, and said, in a tone that I'm sure was attended to be joking, but was instead cutting and hurtful, "where's the magna cum laude or suma cum laude?" So much for enjoying my moment of accomplishment. Maybe it isn't the rest of the world that I want to recognize my intelligence - maybe it's just my dad.

Cooking Dinner and Girly Evening Plans

So I'm getting ready to make dinner. Have I mentioned that I actually really like to cook if it can be something creative and I can try new things? Or if I can make something that will present nicely. I'm making vegetable pasta, served with chicken, in a sundried tomato pesto tonight. Should nicely satisfy my chicken craving, and can be cooked without turning on the oven, which, in this heat is a major plus!

Then, I'm going to spend the evening watching movies and pampering myself. I bought new nail polish. I think I'll do my toes, and maybe my fingers too. I may do some scrapbooking while I watch the movies, but we'll see how lazy I'm feeling, or how motivated to do anything. I'll probably round the evening out with chocolate of some sort, and reading a favorite novel.

Does any of this sound appealing? Give me a call and come on over! My plans are not set in stone, and can easily include one or many others!

Coming soon.

I need to take the time to sit down and write an entire post. This has been an interesting week, filled with some realizations that are not necessarily easy, but will hopefully have positive results. I don't have time to write it now, though, because I'm off to work my last shift for the week. (I may also have a new job by the end of today...)

In the meantime, if you want some fun reading, read Marty's update on their trip to Russia. Made me smile this morning, and reminded me again to keep praying for her as God asked me months ago to commit to pray regularly for Kari (married to Marty) - the things that are on her heart, the people and causes she loves on are huge, and I love that I get to lift her in prayer as she does it.

Back tonight or tomorrow. An entire Saturday off (and most of Sunday too - just a concert to attend Sunday night) - anybody want to hang out?

huh

Went to the Stampede last night to hang out with some friends who I won't see again for quite a long time. They leave today for China, and some of them, particularly the one I'm closest too won't be coming back through Calgary before returning to their home towns or countries. So we hung out at the Stampede, watched the Grandstand Show (which was actually quite enjoyable this year - worth the price of rush admission just for the bagpipe playing comedian, and the good view of the fireworks.), and ate junk food. (Ah, mini donuts and corn dogs!)

Another friend and her husband leave today for Russia as well. I guess I'll be spending a lot of time over the next few weeks praying for friends overseas! Cool!

Trying to decide if I'm going to hang out with our house church tonight. There are two options for things people are doing, and neither one is particularly appealing to me. So, I'm debating taking myself to a movie - anyone want to see either "The Devil Wears Prada" or the new "Pirates of the Caribbean" movie with me tonight?

And with that I'm off to do some reading and writing and cleaning. Ah, the joys of a day off!

Dreaming...

I was talking with Nolan last night, and mentioned that I have got to be the only person in our group of friends, people actively seeking God's voice, who gets annoyed at Him when He actually does speak by giving me dreams. We laughed about it, because it really is kind of ironicly funny, and then Nolan told me about someone else we both know who actually asked God to stop sending dreams. That made me feel better!

I'm at the point where at certain points and times, as much as I prefer to just sleep, I will actually say to God, you can speak to me in my dreams about this situation, or that person or whatever. For example, I've committed to praying regularly for a good friend, but especially over the next week or two as she and her husband travel to Russia with a team of people to pray and intercede over the G8 summit happening in St. Petersburg. I asked God last night to speak clearly, to bring her to mind at the times she most needed covering in prayer, and even to send dreams with her in them if necessary as a reminder to prayer. I don't regularly ask God for dreams, but He's spoken to me about this friend in my dreams before, and I really feel that He called me a couple of months ago to be regularly upholding this friend in prayer, so I want to be aware of when those prayer needs are most pressing.

All that said, I had a dream this morning that was definitely not spiritual, but was kind of funny, so I thought I'd throw it up on the blog.

I was at home, with my two brothers. The only problem was that our house (which I never left in the dream) was now in Hong Kong! And then, I'm standing at the kitchen window, looking out over our backyard and alley, and at the back gate there's a monkey (orangutan or gorilla) wearing a bright pink shirt and a floppy hat, and trying to get into our yard. So I call my brothers to come see, and oddly enough, my youngest brother is also a gorilla, also wearing clothes. The monkey from the gate comes into our yard, and my brother roars at it, and it goes running to the other side of the city. Then it comes back, and is in our house, and running up and down the stairs to our basement, and rolling around and playing on the bottom landing.

And then I woke up!

See, this one is pretty obviously not spiritual - it's actually kind of funny and quite honestly bizarre - but most of my dreams are such a hodgepodge of weird settings and intense emotions that I'm not always sure which ones are the result of an overactive imagination, and which are God things!