The Dinner Party -- a short story

I've read this story a million times and I love it. Just recently I stumbled upon it again, and thought I'd share it with you guys....For now, just enjoy the story :) I have some musings on this story, and a "lesson" to take from it, but I'm not posting that yet; I might rewrite that post first....

The Dinner Party
by Mona Gardner

The country is India. A large dinner party is being given in an up-country station by a colonial official and his wife. The guests are army officers and government officials and their wives, and an American naturalist.
At one side of the long table a spirited discussion springs up between a young girl and a colonel. The girl insists that women have long outgrown the jumping-on-a-chair-at-the-sight-of-a-mouse era, that they are not as fluttery as their grandmothers. The colonel says they are, explaining that women haven't the actual nerve control of men. The other men at the table agree with him.
"A women's unfailing reaction to any crisis," says the colonel, "is to scream. And while a man may feel like it, yet he has that ounce more of courage than a woman has. And that last ounce is what counts !"
The American scientist does not join in the argument, but sits watching the faces of the other guests. As he looks, he sees a strange expression come over the face of the hostess. She is staring straight ahead, the muscles of her face contracting slightly. With a small gesture she summons the native boy standing behind her chair. She whispers to him. The boy's eyes widen: he turns quickly and leaves the room. No one else sees this, nor the boy when he puts a bowl of milk on the verandah outside the glass doors.
The American comes to with a start. In India, milk in a bowl means only one thing. It is bait for a snake. He realizes a cobra is in the room.
He looks up at the rafters - the most likely place - and sees they are bare. Three corners of the room, which he can see by shifting slightly, are empty. In the fourth corner a group of servants stand, waiting until the next course can be served. The American realizes there is only one place left - under the table.
His first impulse is to jump back and warn the others. But he knows that the commotion will frighten the cobra and it will strike. He speaks quickly, the quality of he voice so arresting that it sobers everyone.
"I want to know just what control everyone at this table has. I will count to three hundred - that's five minutes - and not one of you is to move a single muscle. The person who moves will forfeit 50 rupees. Now ! Ready!"
The 20 people sit like stone images while he counts. He is saying ".... two- hundred and eighty...." when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees the cobra emerge and make for the bowl of milk. Four or five screams ring out as he jumps up and slams shut the verandah doors.
"You certainly were right, Colonel !" the host says. "A man has just shown us an example of real control."
"Just a minute," the American says, turning to the hostess, "there's one thing I'd like to know. Mrs. Wynnes, how did you know that the cobra was in the room?"
A faint smile lights up the woman's face as she replies: "Because it was lying across my foot."

-------------------------------------

How God Is Like Ice Cream

Ok. Now bare (bear?) with me.

Today I had ice cream -- real, actual, honest-to-goodness ice cream, packed full of sugar and calories and a million other unhealthy and therefore positively scrumptious things -- for the first time in months. Perhaps longer.

It was, in a word, AMAZING!!!!

How was I surviving without ice cream, you might ask? The creation known as “frozen yogurt” (which is a strange name, really; it doesn’t taste anything LIKE yogurt. But whatever. The inappropriate nomenclature of desserts is an entirely different rant) Well, in my house, we eat “healthy”. Or at least, we try to. Which means that the only kind of ice cream we ever have is fat free, sugar free stuff..."frozen yogurt"...which is usually not...great; quite frankly. Yeah, it’s better then nothing. And at the time, it seems to hit the spot and quench your craving for that cold yumminess and it’s OK, really.

But it’s not great. It’s not the best. It’s not authentic. It’s not REAL.

And while you’re eating the fake stuff, you might almost be able to convince yourself that you like it. That it’s good enough. That it’s kind of like ice cream, really, just…not…
Frozen yogurt is a trap, you see. Eat only frozen yogurt for a long enough time and you'll find yourself thinking, "Huh...so maybe this isn't so bad." You might try to convince yourself, "This is good enough. I don't really need real ice cream anyway. Hmph.". You might start getting used to it; you might find yourself lowering your expectations and accepting something that's less then what you desire.

But in the end it leaves you feeling empty.
It doesn’t satisfy you.
It’s not what you crave; not what you desire.
It just doesn’t measure up.
No matter what you tell yourself, fat-free sugar-free frozen yogurt is nothing compared to true Hershey’s Chocolate Peanut Butter Cup ICE CREAM. There’s no comparison, really
And when you finally taste Hershey’s, you realize what you’ve been missing out on! You realize how much more there is to life! And you won’t ever want to go back.

So…go with this for a minute… there’s an awful lot of ‘gods’ out there. People “worship” and idolize celebrities, or money, or popularity or their own self-image. That’s the fat-free sugar-free frozen yogurt stuff. That’s the stuff that might seem nice at the time, but really, isn’t all that satisfying. That’s the stuff that you fill your life with because you THINK it’s good enough, but really, it’s not. It doesn’t fill you up.

God is the Hershey’s Peanut Butter Cup Ice Cream. God is the real deal. In a world full of frozen yogurts that try to convince you that they’re just as good, God is the one who stands strong. God is the only one who can satisfy your heart’s desires and really “fill you up”. When everything else that you’ve invested your time and money into fails or falls short of your needs, only God will be there… true and real… and ready to supply everything you’ve ever needed; ready to give your life purpose and make you whole.

How sweet is that???

So...why settle for something that's fake? Why spend all that time trying to convince yourself that something's "right" when clearly, you crave more?
Wouldn't you rather have the best? Wouldn't you rather have the real deal??

Isaiah 55: 2-3 discusses this thought:

"Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare. Give ear and come to me; hear me, that your soul may live. "

In essense, he's really saying, "Why are you wasting your time with things that clearly don't satisfy your heart's desires? You crave more in life; you crave meaning! Come to God and your SOUL WILL LIVE." (Note that Isaiah also tells us to "eat what is good".....maybe he's telling us to skip the fro yo and get some good ol' ice cream, huh?!)

Paul reminds us that God is the only one who can supply us with all that we need:

"And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus."

In other words, He'll fill us up the way nothing else can. No subsitutes. No almost-as-good.

The real thing.

"Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. " -- John 17:3

Contrary to popular belief....

....Running is not about math.

Not at all.

In fact, it has nothing to do with numbers.

This is what I discovered today.

Now, I know. I'm sure some of you are taking a deep breath and geering up for a big argument that no doubt starts with something along the lines of, "Well, actually MMSG, the sport of running has an awful lot to do with math. You see, there's rather important concepts like oh, say, distance, minutes, seconds, miles, kilometers, time, calories, speed, the distance/rate/time formula...all of these, believe it or not, are related to math and have an awful lot to do with numbers. So you see, you are very wrong."

Ok, fine. You've got a point. Maybe I should word it differently...

Running should not be about math. Or, for that matter, numbers.



I'm a relatively new runner. I only just started running last month.

But regardless, in these last few weeks, running and I have gone through a lot of phases.

When I first started running, there were a whole bunch of feelings, though most of them centered around the general idea that, "This is great! This is the coolest thing I've ever done! I love it!". Week one was mostly made up of excitement about trying something new.

By week two, however, the novelty had worn off. Excitement was replaced by exhaustion and thoughts like, "Oh, man. Shouldn't it be easier by now?! Ugh. I can't do this. There's no way I can keep doing this!" dominated my consciousness. I was tired and wondering how much longer I could keep it up. Was this really the right sport for me?

Week three hurt, quite frankly. If nothing else, it tested my resolve and determination.

But week four dawned bright and I found myself redoubling my efforts. Motivation soared as I hit the I've-been-running-for-one-month milestone and I pushed myself harder than ever; determined to prove how much I'd improved. Week four hurt, too, but at least I was proud of myself.

Week five was much the same; in the midst of a million other commitments I crammed in time to run... because I had to, after all. I had to get in those extra 10 minutes; I had to do that extra mile, I had to run a fourth day. I had to push myself even harder; I had to beat my best time; I had to get better and do more.

And today is the start of week six. And today also happens to be the day that I've had an ephiphany.

Which brings me back to the statement: Running is not (or should not) be about numbers.

What it boils down to, is that I have finally realized that when I am totally focused on miles, minutes or m.p.h., I'm not having fun.

I started running because it was fun. Because it relieved stress. Because, in the midst of a totally crazy life it gave me time to think my thoughts without distractions. I thrived on the time I spent running on my little country roads, surrounded by forests and birds in the distances and cornfields. I loved the solitude. It was refreshing and invigorating and it made me feel good.

But I allowed myself to get caught up in getting better; doing more; going further. My motivations shifted. Instead of wanting to run, I dreaded it, because I knew I'd be pushing myself even further and becoming even more exhausted. Instead of looking forward to something that had, just a few weeks ago, relaxed and refreshed me, I found that I was instead dreading this thing that was, ironically, causing me more stress.

The over-achieving perfectionist in me dominated the dreamer in me. And I wasn't happy anymore! It took a deer, an icy wind and a drenching rainstorm today, during my run, to make me realize that in a few short weeks I had -- all on my own -- managed to ruin one of the few things that made me happy. I had allowed the numbers to invade!

Here is what I told my very best friend about my revelation-of-a-run earlier today:

....It was an interesting run. I decided to do my favorite route and I set out under the looming, ominous, gloriously dark gray storm clouds praying the rain would hold off til I got home, with the goal of beating my current record, if even only by a few seconds. The first half of my run was great -- for the first time in a month, I felt like I've made some progress. I found that I was running for longer periods without slowing to a walk and I felt really good. So I kept pushing myself and pushing myself and soon I was gasping for breath and every muscle in my body was screaming, "No! I can't take anymore!" and I felt like I was going to throw up. At that point, I realized that if I was pushing myself to the point where I was making myself ill then clearly I'd lost sight of all the reasons I'd started running and I needed to chill out and rethink my priorities (I think all those endorphins make me all philosophical-like. The strangest thoughts go through my head when I run!).

As I was arguing with myself about all this, I turned a corner and quite literally almost ran right smack into a deer, who was just as surprised about our meeting as I was. I think we were only about a foot away by the time it lept one way and I veered the other way. It was pretty cool! (And a pretty stinking big deer, too, I might add!!!)

ANYWAY, now, (in my continued philosophical state) I wondered if perhaps this was God's way of telling me to slow down and enjoy this run, rather then push myself to total exhaustion. And since at that point, I was nearly doubled over from cramps, I sort of had to slow down to a "brisk walk" anyway.

It was at this point that I finally realized it was raining 9and, unbeknownst to me, probably had been for quite awhile) and I was rather wet. Drenched, actually.

So -- here I am, two miles away from home, drenched, caught in a downpour; being blow about by an icy wind [it's only about 50 degrees today anyway], in pain from intense running and already exhausted, and what do I do??

What do you think? This is me, we're talking about.

I stopped and looked heavenward and, in a very Hollywood-movie-like way, spread out my arms and twirled around in the decending drops and said, "Thank you, God, for thunderstorms."...

Is there something in your life that you are dreading right now, even though you used to enjoy it? Maybe it's because, without you realizing it, your priorities have shifted. Maybe you're doing something with different motivations or for different reasons then you originally intended.

There's more to life then numbers and being the best and beating records. Sometimes, you've got to do something solely because it brings you joy and helps you appreciate life. Sometimes, you just have to dance around in a thunderstorm.

"Life isn't about learning how to avoid the storms. It's about learning how to dance in the rain."

p.s. I really REALLY like the title of this post. It's one of my favorite phrases! It just occurred to me that it might be a good title for this blog, instead of "Upon a Thought", which I don't really like. I might change it. Hmmm!

Meetings and deadlines and schoolwork, oh my!

Ok. So...well...I know I've talked about this sort of thing before. But that was months ago. And it's important. And I'm taking a different viewpoint on the subject, this time. :)


Yesterday I spent, with the exception of about 35 minutes in which I came home, ate lunch, and changed -- 13 consecutive hours away from home; at church and meetings. Which was GREAT, and all; it was a FANTASTIC day. It was just...long. And pretty tiring.

It's another one of those weeks. *sigh*

I have fours papers due. I have a meeting or commitment every single night this week. Today was the deadline for a few magazines that I needed to submit writing to (goal for tomorrow). There are two contests I really want to enter that MUST BE POSTMARKED NO LATER THEN SATURDAY. My room is a mess -- even *I* can see that. I need to plan a Sunday School lesson for this week. I have a million school assignments that I need to catch up on. Plus, I'd really like to go running three -- or ideally, even four! -- times this week.....

And none of this is a bad thing, don't get me wrong!
But it is a tad bit...overwhelming...I'm feeling like every single second (literally) of my life for the next few weeks is completely scheduled away.


One thing I’ve struggled with for my entire life -- I know, I know, that sounds funny coming from a high schooler, but bare with me -- is “me” time. You know, taking time to think without overwhelming myself; to breathe without hyperventilating. It’s always been a concept that just completely eludes me -- I’m no good at relaxing. Never have been.

I took a class once, and one of the women in it told me her “story”. A middle age single mom working two jobs, raising two teenagers, taking care of an aging mother, etc, etc. Obviously, she was incredibly stressed out with everything she was dealing with. “It got to the point,” she told me, “that I was so miserable, so exhausted, that I didn’t want to get out of bed. People would ask me how I was and I didn’t know how to answer them. How was I? What was I feeling? I had no idea. I was losing myself to all those I held dear. It wasn’t that I didn’t love them, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to help them. I did -- I do -- more then anything. It was just that I couldn’t do it all. I couldn’t be everything to everyone forever.”
It took her years to come to this conclusion, she confessed, and once she finally realized it, she was able to come up with a solution. She decided that every Thursday night would be “her” time. Starting at 7pm, she’d turn off her phones, she wouldn’t check her email, she’d take time for her. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” she admitted. “And there are days when it’s still incredibly tempting to schedule things on 'my' Thursday nights. But ultimately, I’ve learned that I NEED that time in order to function. If I don’t take a few hours to recharge, to unwind, to do things for me, then I can’t possibly do anything for anyone else.”
And it’s hard!! It was hard, she said, at first, to explain to family and friends what she was doing. It was so hard to stick to her guns and keep Thursday nights free.
“It’s a commitment I have to make every single week,” she said. “And it’s still a challenge. But it’s worth it.”

Wow. I so admire her resolve! I admire her courage!
Because it is an INCREDIBLY hard thing to do, to make time for yourself; to take a minute or an hour or *gasp* a whole day to not work. Whether you’re a junior in high school trying to figure out what the heck you want to do with your life or a mom with three kids trying to go in 56 directions at once or going through a midlife crisis or whatever…wherever you are in your life, it’s hard. It’ll never get easier!

But the fact is…God doesn’t want us to spend our lives trying to cram every extracurricular activity, every volunteer opportunity, every extra-credit assignment, every committee meeting, every commitment in to our lives. He doesn’t want us to be so busy that we’re miserable; so weary -- whether physically, emotionally, mentally or spiritually (or all of the above) -- that we can’t function.

Think about it logically. I’ve found out that hard way that I can’t do schoolwork when I’ve had a week’s worth of only-three-hours-of-sleep nights. It just doesn’t happen. I can’t perform to the best of my ability, and I truly believe that performing to the best of my ability is a way that I can bring glory to God.
You follow me so far?

Likewise, I can’t be an effective teacher at preschool if I’m consumed by stress or worry, because I can’t focus on what I need to.
I can’t take time to pray when I’m too busy to think my thoughts.
I can’t think my thoughts unless I take time to do so.

My fabulous youth leader made a suggestion tonight. Start with one hour, she suggested. One hour a week that you schedule into your life -- same as you’d schedule a meeting or a date or a study session -- and let it be yours. After all -- a week is 168 hours long. Surely you can afford to make ONE of those hours yours?

“Ok,” you might be thinking now. “So maybe I can handle that…but…what about when I feel guilty?
”Well, I deal with this all the time, too. I feel incredibly guilty taking time for “me”. I feel selfish-- "who am I to say that I’m more important? I could be changing the world right now. I should focus on THAT, not silly old ME…and think of all the things I could be doing right now,” I always argue with myself. “I could be studying for that Chemistry test or reading next week’s chapter for AP Psych or writing a letter to so-and-so or volunteering here or doing this or that or…” and that’s where you’ve got to realize that you don’t have to feel guilty about it!

Whoa. Foreign concept, I know. NO guilt? Really? I might be…allowed… to take a break? *gasp* To read a book that’s not required for school, to watch a totally pointless movie that makes me laugh, to sit down and call a friend just to say hi, to write a silly story, to play with my dog or go for a walk or do *biggest gasp yet*……nothing?!?!

Yup. That's what I'm saying :)

“Now may our Lord Jesus Christ Himself, and our God and Father, who has loved us and given us everlasting consolation and good hope by grace, comfort your hearts…” (2 Thes. 2:16-17).

God longs to comfort us when we are weak; to give us strength and hope and to renew and refresh our souls…but we have to allow Him. We’ve got to give God that space to come into our hearts. We’ve got to give ourselves the time to just be still.

One of my all time favorite Bible verses is Psalm 42:10: “Be still and know that I am God.”

It reminds me that I don’t have to be constantly moving in a million directions at once; obsessively working to glorify God. Sometimes all he wants me to do is be still…still…and just acknowledge his presence and his majesty. It’s then that I will find the strength, the knowledge, the peace, the courage, whatever I need, to keeping working for him.

Give yourself an hour this week to be still.

Do You Know?

Good Monsters
Jars of Clay

All the good monsters open their eyes
To see the wasteland where the home fires rise
And the people shouting, "Why, why, why"

Do you know what you are?
Do you know what you are?

All the giants wake from their sleep
And roll outside of safety's keep
And the pain makes them feel so alive

Do you know what you are; do you know what you are?
We are bored of all the things we know
Do you know what you are; do you know what you are?

Not all monsters are bad
But the ones who are good
Never do what they could, never do what they could

All the good monsters rattle their chains
And dance around the open flames
They make a lot of empty noise

While all of the bright eyes turn away
As if there wasn't anything to say
About the justice and the mystery

Do you know what you are?
Do you know what you are?
We are bored of all the things that we know
And we are forms of everything we love, we love..

If good won't show its ugly face,
Evil won't you take your place?
Nothing ever changes, nothing ever changes
By itself

We are bored of all the things that we know
Do you know what you are?
Because we are so in love with ourselves

We are forms of all the things we love.

------------------------------------

Do you know what you are?

You've all heard the famous quote, "All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for a good man to stand by and do nothing." (Edmund Burke).

I don't have to tell you how true this is. I don't have to tell you what pain and humiliation feels like when you're in the midst of a group that is harassing you, picking on you, making fun of you; I don't have to tell you what hope feels like when you see someone, standing off to the edge of the group, silent, not taking part. The one person who might be able to save you. I don't have to tell you how much it hurts when that one single person turns their back and walks away, leaving you to whatever humiliation you're enduring. I don't have to tell you because I'm sure you've been through it before.Betrayal. That's what it boils down to.

Do you know what you are?

Are you a good monster? The kind no one's ever heard of? The kind that just stands by and lets all the evil monsters ruin the reputation of monsters everywhere; the kind who doesn't dare to challenge the stereotype or defy the expected?

"Nothing ever changes...by itself." Are you standing by and watching evil triumph?Pick a situation in your life that you're currently involved in... without really being "involved in". Somewhere where you're standing by, helplessly; not getting involved but not doing anything to change it, either. Well -- I challenge you to change it.
Don't let evil triumph. Whether your goal is to end the turmoil in Darfur or to confess to your parents that it was you, and not your little brother, who flooded the bathroom... Don't just "make a lot of empty noise."

Do you know what you are?

Well then -- stand up and tell the world.
Show them what you are and what you believe.

Five Crazy Things I Did When I Was Little

Rules:
1. Follow this format
2. Copy/Paste the rules
3. State who tagged you and add a link to their blog
4. Write 5 crazy things you did as a little kid
5. Tag 5 people

tagged by Anilee

Actually, believe it or not, I was a mostly calm, rather dull child. I am much more crazier now then I was when I was younger; back in those days I was quiet, shy, very "teacher's pet"-ish and altogether too concerned with following rules and behaving. I did NOT like to be the center of attention (my, how that's changed!!). However, there are a few noteworthy tales to share.

1. As a toddler, I used to have this little plastic yellow ride-on toy. It was a school bus. I LOVED that thing, and even more so, I LOVED riding it through the kitchen, down the hallway and directly in to the door which leads to the garage. Over and over and over and over. "VROOM VROOM VROOM THUMMPPP!" could be heard all day long. My poor father tried everything he could to stop me from denting, scratching and otherwise ruining that door, but nothing worked. I kept crashing in to it. Eventually he put a metal door in place of the old one (I throroughly ruined the old one) and even that didn't stop me!

2. At age 3, I decided that I really, really, really wanted to hug my cat, Sydney. Sydney, however, did not want to be hugged. EVER. But somehow, I got it into my head that this would be a good thing to do. You would think, that after I'd chased him around the house and he kept running away from me that I would have figured out that, well, obviously, he doesn't want a hug right now. But I, being the determined and stubborn child that I was (ok, that I AM), wouldn't give up. Somehow I managed to lure the poor cat into my room and close the door. To hear my father tell the story, the hug was apparently successful, though I really think it depends on your definition of "successful". Seeing as I really don't remember much of the event, we're going by his interpretation. All we know is that is that I eventually opened my bedroom door and came running downstairs, completely covered in fur and sobbing, "SYDNEY SCRATCHED ME!!!!". Sydney hid in basement for three days before he dared emerge.
Lesson learned: Do not try to hug a cat who does not want to be hugged

3. Another memorable time was the summer day when I really, really wanted to go sledding. Obviously, sledding in 90 degree weather is a little trickier then it is in the winter; probably due to the lack of snow. At any rate, I would not be deterred. I found old pieces of plywood and created a makeshift ramp in the backyard (which already slopes downhill; I made it slope even further. There was quite an unbelievable angle there, mark my words) and went sledding down on a skateboard with rollerblades on my feet, too (just for good measure). And no knee pads, of course. I sort of forgot that it might be a little tricky to steer. I still have that scar.

I can't think of anything else majorly "crazy" that I did when I was younger...I'm sure there were things but I can't think of them!!!...., but here are some much more recent examples, from this past year :) :

4.I helped...commandeer...a golf cart and drove it around girl scout camp at midnight. But that was rather recently and I don't think I should disclose details :)

5. I randomly developed a high-pitched British accent this summer and I very much enjoy talking in it, just to annoy people. As such, I get great pleasure out of answering the phone in a variety of fake accents.


I tag...Somnium and anyone reading this who hasn't done it yet.

Despicableness

Ok!!
Let's say I asked all of you if you would eat something without knowing what it was. Would you?Let's say I described this mysterious substance as, "thick yellowish-brown paste with a sharp taste". Would you eat it?

Be honest: How appetizing does that sound???



Want to know what it is?
Mustard.
I kid you not. That's how wikipedia describes mustard.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEW.


I hate mustard. Hate it hate it hate it hate it hate it hate it hate it.

I've been on this rant for three whole days, now. I really, really, really hate mustard.

I have ALWAYS hated mustard, mind you; this is no new fad or random passing phase. However, as of late I've simply become much more passionate in my intense hatred of mustard and also much more educated in how utterly revolting the substance is.


This latest jump in dedicated rage directed at a condiment began on Wednesday, when I was having a Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day. I was seriously contemplating moving to Australia, in fact; it was that bad. I was obviously in a rather cranky mood and was thrown completely over the edge when I opened the fridge (admittedly rather harder then necessary) and a bottle of mustard jumped out of the shelf on the fridge door (cackling evilly, of course, because everyone knows that mustard is pure evil) and lept on to me, covering me from head to toe (practically) with oozing, yellow nast.

As you can imagine, this didn't exactly improve my mood any.

Adding to my discomfort was the fact that the smell of mustard has ALWAYS made me extremely nauseous, and of course, I smelled like mustard all day. Even the next day, EVEN after taking a SHOWER, I was still convinced that I smelled like mustard....ugh ugh ugh.

But since then, I have been in sort of a feverish crazed anti-mustard mood. I sort of took all the mustard in the house and hid it in the garage so I wouldn't have to look at it.

I cannot for the life of me figure out what about this awful stuff appeals to people. Sheesh. Why would you intentionally consume something so digusting, which makes your eyes water and your nose itch and your tongue scream, "NO! NOT THIS AGAIN! WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE SUCH AWFUL TREATMENT?!?!"

Mustard's been around for an awfully long time, you know. The first mustard recipe dates back to 42 A.D. It didn't exactly catch on as a condiment back then, though (gee, I wonder why...it's only the most horrifyingly nasty taste on the planet....) and it wasn't until the 9th century, when French monks began making mustard and selling it as a way to bring in income (I am totally serious, here. I did my research!). Ick. For awhile, though, mustard-making flourished, however due to intense issues with contamination and "adulteration of the substance", in the 16th century the French government passed laws with strict cleanliness requirements for mustard making utensils and also laws stating that only certified mustard-makers could produce the condiment.

You know what even further blows my mind? Found on Wiki:
"The Mount Horeb Mustard Museum is a museum in Mount Horeb, Wisconsin, featuring the world's largest display of prepared mustards. It is often featured in lists of unusual museums in the United States...The initial dozen jars have grown to a collection of more than 4,800 different mustards from 60 different countries, along with items of mustard memorabilia and exhibits depicting the use of mustard through history."
THERE'S A WHOLE MUSEUM DEDICATED TO THIS GROSSNESS? WHAT?!?!

AND! Apparently there is also a NATIONAL MUSTARD DAY!
Now THAT is just taking things altogether too far, if you ask me.


Some of you are probably wondering, "OK...well...let's get to the point now, shall we?"
There is no point. This is an utterly pointless, useless, random post with no relevance to anything. I simply wanted to express my intense dislike of a positively revolting substance.

*takes bow*

O Happy Days...!

I LOVE birthdays. Not my birthday, particularly; that's never been a huge deal to me. No, I love OTHER people's birthdays. I love secretly finding out when birthdays are. I love whispering other people's birthdays to their friends so we can surprise them on their special day. I love suprising them with cards and I love giving gifts and I love singing "Happy Birthday" and I just love the whole concept of birthdays. I love how everyone has one day...one day of their very own...to be celebrated.

Today is my very bestest friend in the whole world's birthday (Happy Birthday, dear!!!) and I am so happy about it!!! I have been counting down the days to her birthday for months now. She does EVERYTHING for EVERYONE ALL THE TIME, but on her birthday, at least, it's a chance for the whole world to do things for HER, and to let her know how special and wonderful she is and how much we love her and how happy we are to have her in our lives :)

But it got me thinking, too.... as wonderful as it is to celebrate someone especially on their birthday, and let them know how special they are, why can't we do that every day? Why only once a year? Birthdays don't come nearly often enough, you see....I would never survive if I had to wait a WHOLE ENTIRE YEAR to tell my friend how amazing she is and make her feel special again....I mean, after all, I try to do that every day!!!!!

Remembering someone's birthday shows that you care about them, but you can show you care on the other 364 days, too!

One neat thing I LOVE to do is surprise people on their HALF birthdays -- it's a fun way to let them know you're thinking about them when they least expect it. Send a card, give a little gift or just call them and sing "HAPPY HALF BIRTHDAY TO YOU....". You will be surprised how happy this makes both of you!

Even more fun is celebrating an UNbirthday -- celebrating someone you love on a totally random day. Not because it's their birthday (or half-birthday!); but simply because you love them :)

Look for ways to let someone know how very special they are to you today. Look for ways to encourage people today. Send them a card in the mail for no reason at all, bake some cookies to share, draw a picture, write a poem, give them a call or even just a big hug!

"Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!" -- Phillipians 4:4

"For this is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!" -- Psalm 118:24

We can and SHOULD celebrate things that bring us joy and rejoice in our blessings EVERY DAY!!!!! And my friends are certainly some of the biggest blessings in my life :)

My life in six words...

Anilee tagged me in the "6 word memoir challenge".

Write about my whole life in six tiny words? Wow. For a loquatious person like me, that is harder then any other writing activity I've ever done. But I like the challenge, so I'm going to try.

Here's my thinking.

My life right now is all about speaking up, speaking out, and sharing my thoughts with the world (thus, the motivation for starting this blog!!). I am finding who I am and figuring out who I'm not. I'm becoming someone that, a few years ago, would not have seemed conceivable. For a shy girl who never questioned authority or defied the ordinary...my life now is the complete opposite of who I used to be! And yet, the person I WAS will always continue to shape who I WILL be and how I react to things. Does that make sense?

I wanted to capture all of that in my sentence. My defiance of the expected. My need to be heard. And my acknowledgement of who I used to be.

Here's what I came up with:

I will not be silent anymore.

(Wow. Who knew one sentence could make you think so hard????)

I'm still not sure that I'm entirely happy with that. I feel like it makes me sound TOO rebellious...and it doesn't capture my innate enthusiasm and passion....so I might keep thinking. But it's a start :) and as hard as this was for me, I truly enjoyed it. Thanks, Anilee :)

Ok, your turn. Everyone reading this blog -- whether you're a member of Blogger.com or not -- I challenge you to do this. Sum up your life in one sentence composted of 6 -- ONLY SIX -- words. I would LOVE to read your sentences once you've got them (reminder to all the non-bloggers reading this -- you can post too! Click on "comments" and choose "anonymous" or "other" -- you can fill in any name you want there. See if I can figure out who you are!)

And, just to keep the game going, I tag: Somnium and Nat.

Advice from Dr Seuss

EEEP! This blog has been getting altogether too serious for me lately. Too...dark and intense. I think that's why I haven't written lately, because I haven't been in this deep contemplative mood...I've been too busy loving life :)
I think I need to change layout, too...with Spring just around the corner and my current intense good mood, I'm feeling the need for something much happier and brighter!!


(Thank you, Hannah dear, for the idea that sparked this post. Your "bumper sticker" did it!)

So! Last week (March 2) was Dr. Seuss' birthday. (Yes, you guys remember....good ol' Cat in the Hat, Green Eggs and Ham, Fox in Socks, the Biddle Beetle Battle Bubble [I can't ever remember the name of that one!!! Anyone else know the real title?!], How The Grinch Stole Christmas, The Lorax, Oh The Places You'll Go! (a personal favorite!) and so many other classics)... I celebrated this momentous occasion by dressing up as Cat in the Hat himself and reading "Green Eggs and Ham" to the preschoolers. It was incredibly exciting, actually :)

Dr Seuss is one of my all time favorite authors -- he always has been. I mean, how can you not love a writer who rhymes nonsense words and still makes sense!? In all seriousness, though, look at the themes of his books -- the spirit of Christmas is about more then gifts, there are plenty of things to do on rainy days [creativity and optimism], and even (*gasp!*) trying new (green!) foods might actually turn out to be a positive experience [open-mindedness]!! But on top of that, Dr Seuss has some truly insightful words of wisdom to live by as well.

Take this quote, for instance:

"Be who you are
and say what you feel,
because those who mind, don't matter,
and those who matter, don't mind."

Ever struggle with self-esteem? With being to shy or self-concious to be yourself? Everyone's always loudly proclaiming, "BE YOURSELF!" "STAY TRUE TO YOURSELF!" but the majority of the time, "everyone" fails to acknowledge how scary that can be. Sometimes it's much easier to conform and melt into the crowd. (Trust me, I know!) To become just one more of the sea of faces out there, and not worry about being singled out. To silence your own voice for fear of being heard.

Today in Sunday School we talked about love, and all the different facets of love. How the media portrays love. How this country sees love. How the world as a whole defines love. How we as individuals understand love. Ways to express love and how love is manifested...you get the idea.

Love is supportive. (See 1 Corinth. 13: 1-13 for more on the Biblical definition of love). It is through love that we find the courage and support we need to become who we are!! Whether we're kids, teens or adults, or anywhere in between, it seems to be a lifelong struggle to find our "place" in this world, doesn't it? We are constantly trying to figure out how we fit in and who we are....

And it is through and because of the love of our family, friends and God that we have the freedom to take some leaps of faith, try new things and figure out just WHO we are!

Don't be afraid to go out there and do something crazy! Wear mismatched socks. Watch a VeggieTales movie. Go skipping down the streets of Argentina singing Dora the Explorer songs. Eat dessert first. Speak your mind. Take a walk in the rain. Re-read one of your favorite books from eons ago, back in your childhood days. Wear your clothes backwards and see how many people notice. Go out to eat at midnight in your pajamas. Smile at 50 specific people today and tell them you hope they're having a great day. Give hugs to someone you care about.

It's OK to defy the ordinary and be unique! I'm finding that the people in your life who truly care about you will love you despite..or perhaps because of!...your zaniness. When you do something silly, they'll still love you. When you speak your mind, whether they agree with you or not...they'll still love you. And it's love like this that gives us strength, hope and courage.

Don't let yourself become consumed by other's opinions. After all, EVERYONE has an opinion about EVERYTHING, somewhere deep down, and yes, there are going to be people who will look at you funny and point and whisper when you wear mismatched socks. But hey, that's OK. You've got the love of those who care about you backing you up -- because "...those who matter won't mind".

So take the immortal words of Dr Seuss to heart (No, no, no, not, "Would you eat them with a goat? Would you eat them on a boat?!"...) and I challenge you today to go out there and say what you feel. (And maybe wear mismatched socks while doing it???)