My New Guitar
What I’m listening to: The Eames Era’s Second EP
A Martin D-15. Complete genuine mahogany construction. Herringbone decal rosette. East Indian Rosewood fretboard.
I’ve been drooling over it for months. Sometimes, after a crappy day at work, I’d go into the sound booth at the local music shop and just play.
The dark, rich tone is different than every other guitar I’ve played and I’ve played ’til my fingers begged for mercy.
It’s pretty. And I’m in heaven.
Gin and Bitterness
What I’m listening to: Reindeer Section’s You are My Joy .
Don’t get the wrong idea by the title of this post – I’m not a Gin drinker. Actually, I’m not a drinker. But that’s irrelevant for the sake of this post.
But I am bitter.
Stanley Richards can write about how the two go hand in hand until he’s blue in the face for all I care. But the fact remains for me: I let myself get bitter.
Not in that “I’m so mad at the world I refuse to shower” way or the “Chasing pills with Tequila” way or even the “I hate all people, especially men” way. It’s none of those, in all honesty. This bitterness, however, has taught me a valuable lesson. But I don’t think I will share that lesson with you tonight.
The fact is, everywhere I turn I get a “message” or “hint” to confront a person I don’t want to confront. It’s not my place to confront this person, I say to myself. It wouldn’t matter if I tried anyway, I think. It will make me feel stupid and vulnerable and weak, I admit.
But what does Jesus say about this? Matthew 5: 23-24 “Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to your brother; then come and offer your gift.” Doesn’t seem fair, does it? Why should the one who’s been wronged have to face more potential hurt and humiliation be required to take the first step? We’ve all had experiences where we were up-front and honest with someone who hurt us and they in turn shake their head in wonder and say things like “You really over-reacted” and “I had a right to say those things” and my personal favorite “I didn’t do anything wrong.” (I’ve heard that a few times too many).
But by me thinking (and feeling) this way, am I am completely and totally self-righteous? By proclaiming my hurt, am I in some way saying that I am better than they are, just because they hurt me?
I won’t leave you out of my will
But I will leave you out of my mind
for now
I won’t be there to break your sweet heart
But not being there might break your sweet heart
You are my joy
If I could cradle you into my arms
I would cradle you tight in my arms
always
So don’t be scared of all the hurtful words
Cause in the end they’ll hurt themselves much more
You are my joy.
Listen to You Are My Joy
I dislike books that are in a series (very much so)
What I’m listening to: Mainstay’s Well Meaning Fiction
… but I will recommend this one. I haven’t read the other two yet (I’m just barely finishing up this one) and as much as I hate reading books in a series, I may have to continue with this one. We’ll see.
I’m not a fantasy/science fiction sort of reader. Never been my thing. This book has a lot of that and more, yet it kept my attention despite the “fuzzy white bats” the “glowing trees in red, purple and yellow” and the “naka fruit”. Intrigued? Well, read it. It won’t take you long. It’s not a mind bender, but an entertaining read full of imagery and imagination. Blink is one of my favorite fiction books, so a friend gave me Black for Christmas. Interesting stuff.
Snow, Snow, Snow
What I’m listening to: KLOVE on my iTunes
So I walked to work today. That was interesting. Nearly two feet of snow and only two people bothered to scoop their sidewalks. So I spent most of the time walking in the middle of the street (not at all dangerous considering how this town is notorious for it’s crazy drivers). I mean, I know Americans are stereotypically lazy, but come on. How much does it take to scoop your sidewalk? I don’t know about you, but I’d rather scoop 8″ twice than 19″ once. But that’s just me.
But I can’t help it. I spent a good portion of yesterday looking out the window with a smile on my face. I love snow. The way it changes the brown landscape into the magical beauty of sparkling white wonderland. Call me a freak if you want, but snow makes me smile like nothing else. It’s God’s reminder that he can beautify even the most barren land. The world changes when it snows. We pull together to dig each other out. We laugh and joke about survival of the fittest. We shake our heads in wonder as the awning on a downtown furniture store collapses under the weight of this wet and heavy white beast. (Which actually did happen yesterday. Poor awning.) Children relish the day off and the chance to make snow angels and have a snowball fights while it’s still daylight.
What a joy it is to have snow.
Speaking of smiles…
This just made my week.
Jessica Simpson snubs President Bush
What I’m listening to: Dvorak (New World) Symphony
Stephanie Nelson 