I LOVE The Mentalist

I love The Mentalist. Patrick Jane (Simon Baker) is super sexy. It's not even that he's that good looking, he's just got this . . . mesmerizing presence going on.

Let's Be Cryptically Clear

I was trying to borrow from my boy's rhetoric. He likes to say "let's be clear" when he's trying to set the record straight. I can't wait for him to win.

Yes, I'm that sure he's going to pull it off. However, I wasn't so sure that someone else would be able to pull off converting a well-known standard bearer with his upcoming presentation. Indeed, I doubted his powers of persuasion so much that I said I'd vote for John McCain if he were successful. The only problem with that proposition . . . Election Day will have already passed by then. Guess I'll have to go ahead with my plan to Barack the vote, then. Sorry, but that's the way it is.

Now then, I will admit that sometimes my fingers itch to give someone a pseudonym. There's a Where-You-Can-Find-Me-ish urge to shine the blogular limelight upon his yet unintroduced soul. But the more staid part of me resists. It prefers to continue to allow the blogosphere get but cryptic glimpses of his existence. It prefers to instead allow him to be seen through a glass darkly and to be spoken of in parables. Each time the overindulged blogger in me wants to lift the curtain, the ascetic rationalist in me arises and appeals to restraint. A friend of mine once called me a 'walking dichotomy' and I laughed about it for days. My tendency towards cryptic clarity reminds me of that. Everyone's got some kind of tension to reckon with, I suppose.

But anyway, the occasion of my non-update this time is the fact that a week from today I will sail away to a far away land to escape the doldrums of grad school existence for a couple of days in a more natural (albeit colder) habitat. And as fate would have it, I shall meet again with the non-updateable one, among others, and will, if the polls concerning the probability of an Obama win could somehow be indicative in this case as well, have fun.

That is the hope. Yes we can!

Conservatives for Obama

Interesting . . . oh, so interesting.

Cynicism, Anti-intellectualism, and Getting Stuff Done

The problem with cynicism

I will admit that at times I don the mantle of the cynic with perverse pleasure. It allows me to comment from the position of the holy underdog, the misunderstood minority, the intellectual martyr. I'm observant and critical and make no apologies for it because there are things that need to be critiqued, and it takes the eyes of an observer to make an astute critique rather than a reckless one. However, cynicism presents a problem because cynicism by default negates action. What defines cynicism and allows it to thrive is viewing action to remedy whatever ills are present as ineffective.

It is easy for me to allow my criticism to slide into cynicism because it is easy to snarkily and haughtily comment on the unfairness and backwardness of something without doing anything about it. It's easy to complain and feel sorry for myself because I'm soooo misunderstood and "nobody" gets it. But it's hard to do something concrete to be the change I want to see.

The church and anti-intellectualism

Having said that, I will very tentatively ascend my soapbox and try not to be unwarrantedly snarky as I sound off.

It makes me want to scream when some ministers debase higher learning by putting it in opposition to the "wisdom of God." Let me back up and say that yes, I realize the danger of becoming prideful because of acquisition of knowledge. I realize that an impressive educational resume cannot even begin to compare to God's infinite wisdom. But to imply that somehow the more education you get the easier it is to fall away from God is woefully erroneous. The idea that bettering yourself through going to school is just a bunch of highfalutin' excess and all you really need is Jesus, in my opinion, needs to be tweaked a little.

Let's back up some more. Who wrote the overwhelming majority of the New Testament? A guy named Paul who had more than a Strong's concordance and "the anointing" to guide him. In fact, most Bible scholars agree that the had the modern day equivalent of a PhD. My point is not that God couldn't have used one of his unlearned fishermen apostles to do the same. God can do whatever He wants. But I do believe Paul was chosen because his preparation was fitted to his task.

Because of my liberal, secular, humanistic education, I'm able to translate during the preaching of God's Word so that a Spanish-speaking someone who doesn't understand English will be able to receive it. Not that God couldn't choose any old monolingual average Joe Sixpack out there and impress upon him the gift of tongues and interpretation so that he could miraculously do the same thing I do without having studied abroad. Heck, it happened on the Day of Pentecost, right? But my point is that what some debase as superfluous and even, in some instances, somehow working against the true and greater wisdom of God is actually what God can use to do His work and fulfill His purposes.

You can have all the education in the world, and be empty without Him. What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his soul? But if you're walking with Him and decide to better yourself and use your education for Him, how can that be considered in opposition to Him?

I have to do my thing, God's thing

Lately, I've had a series of existential crises dealing with various and sundry points of tension. (I say that in an I (Heart) Huckabees way). My response has generally been that of pity party. Why, oh, why have I been placed in the thick of such tension? Oh, God, You're so unfair. Why torment my mind with such complexities?

My forehead is already etched with an "11" because I furrow my brow so much. But as I mentally chisel away at these granite blocks of the unknown, the form of an answer is slowly starting to take shape: The way forward in unchartered territory is always met with resistance.

Knowing me, I will probably continue to critique and occasionally spout off with snarky rants. But I can't stop there. What good would that do? I can't get so busy feeling sorry for myself that I don't do what I'm supposed to be doing, and not just doing it, but doing it to the best of my ability. Because God requires no less. I have to concentrate on getting my stuff done and doing my thing, which, if I'm doing it as I should, is God's thing.

Little Girl Wants Puppy Dog

A little girl and her mother enter a pet store.

Little Girl: Ooh! A puppy dog! I like this puppy dog. It's fun. It makes me laugh. It's cuddly and cute. I want this puppy dog. Mommy, I want this puppy dog!

Mommy: Sweetie, why do you want this puppy dog? There are so many other kinds of puppy dogs out there. This one, well . . . Daddy and I don't really think this is the puppy dog you should have. Don't let it bother you that all your friends are starting to get puppy dogs. Not having a puppy dog doesn't make it any less fun playing hopscotch and jump rope and freeze tag and hide-and-go-seek, does it? Besides, you're just a little girl. Enjoy being a little girl.

Little girl picks up the puppy dog and cuddles it.

Little Girl: But Mommy, I want this puppy dog. And I'm not a little girl. I'm a big girl! And big girls can have puppy dogs, because big girls are big enough to take care of them. And I want this puppy dog, Mommy!

Mommy: Sweetie, what did Mommy say? Not this one. You can get a different one another day.

Little girl: No, Mommy, I'm a big girl! And I want this puppy dog!

Mommy: Put the puppy dog down, sweetie. Not this one. Another day.

Little girl: No, Mommy!

Mommy: Listen to Mommy, sweetie. Mommy said no!

Little girl: No!

Mommy makes a motion to take the puppy away, and Little girl clutches it tighter. She begins to cry.

Little girl: No, Mommy, no! It's not fair! I'm a big girl! I'm a big girl!

Little girl gets hysterical and starts pitching a fit. Mommy thinks for a minute.

Mommy: (sigh) Okay, sweetie, you're right. You really are a big girl. Daddy and I have to realize that.

Little girl stops crying and looks at Mommy quizzically.

Mommy: If that's the puppy you want, Mommy is not going to say anything else negative about it.

Little girl: You—you're not? But, but . . .

Mommy wanders off to look at the parakeets. Little girl looks at the puppy in her arms and begins examining it.

Weary and Frustrated

Why is it that one minute a really awesome thing like winning a 6 month scholarship to study in a foreign country happens that sends you to cloud 9, and the next minute, the most frustrating situation in the universe rears its head once again and sends you way, way down?

I am thankful for what God has done. I really am. He's done literal miracles in my life. But He also knows well that I didn't want to have to go through the emotional wringer again, and He's putting me through exactly what I begged Him not to put me through again in this area of my life, but this time it's even worse.

The last time, it was kind of like, I knew better. I was hoping against hope for the wrong reasons, and I blame myself. But this time, what have I done wrong? It almost feels like I've been set up or something. The stress is overwhelming, and stress is what I need the least of right now. And I can't even sit through class without tearing up? It's wretched.

I would ordinarily blame me, but I can't see where I went wrong this time. My human impulse is to blame Him.

I'm Freaking Out! (In a Good Way)

Ahem. Where do I begin . . . ?

Let me take you back to . . . maybe it was March? Or was it April? I got an email through my AU student account about study abroad scholarships offered by the Rotary Club International. One particular scholarship caught my interest. It would send you to a language institute, all expenses paid, to study a language that you aren't familiar with and to study in a country in which you haven't studied abroad previously for more than 5 months combined. Spanish and Spain were out. I've done that. This time around, I had my eyes set on French and France.

See, with my Master's program, one of my requirements is that I also be proficient in a language other than Spanish or English. We can fulfill the requirement either by taking a proficiency test or by taking a first year sequence of another language. I chose French. (It probably would have been easier had I chosen Italian, though. It's closer to Spanish. But it's not spoken in near as many places as French.) I don't want to stop at the elementary level, though. If I'm going to learn another language, I'm going to learn another language. And what better way to do so than to spend 6 months in a country where that language is spoken?

However, I had doubts. I printed out the application and sat on it. I was sort of wondering if I really wanted to continue to be a world traveler. I had this whack idea that I wasn't sure if I were going to apply because, well, there's no other way to say it, the girly side of me wants marriage and motherhood, and how could I do that if I'm gallivanting around Europe? But then the common sense side of me slapped the taste out of the mouth of the girly side of me and said, "Um, are you outside of your everlovin' mind? Six months is nothing. Do you realize you're cheating yourself out of an opportunity because of whether something you don't know will happen will happen?" The problem is that common sense me waited until the due date to knock some sense into girly me. After getting approval from the district director to apply anyway, I went for it with gusto.

Fast forward to last Monday. I had an interview. Eleven people, four scholarships. Two of them were one-year, the other two were 6-month (what I was applying for). I never knew how many out of the eleven were applying for the 6-month. But I went in there, looked people in the eye, answered questions candidly, and had fun. "You should hear something from us within 7-10 days," they said. Standard answer.

Fast forward to today. Exactly seven days later, I got an email and a phone call of congratulations! I was freaking out. I mean, seriously, I almost didn't apply, and I won it? I was so happy today. I will spend 6 months either in France (my first choice, please, please!) or Belgium (my second choice) sometime after July 1, 2009 to study French. I can't say that I don't know what I'm going to do after I graduate anymore, can I?

But he knoweth the way that I take: when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold. (Job 23:10)

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end. (Jeremiah 29:11)

Passed on by a fellow pundit

Palin on SNL. Hilarious!

Colin Powell Endorses Barack Obama for President

Powell is a highly respected, experienced, grounded figure. He gives a compelling and balanced rationale for his decision. I know that a lot of people may say that Powell is deciding to endorse Obama based on race, (which is something Brokaw asks him about in the full version of the interview) and not only is that insulting, but if you listen to this segment, you will understand that it isn't true. Why is it that no one wonders if white endorsers of McCain are endorsing him because he's white? When looked at from that perspective, the absurdity of it is seen a little clearer. Perhaps we're not over the race thing. Perhaps we never will be. I'm not one of those bleeding heart, wide-eyed innocents who thinks Barack Obama as president will cleanse our country of its racial woes. Please. But I'm very hopeful that we're making progress.

You're kidding me, right?

You have absolutely GOT to be kidding me. Like Obama's campaign, I have no comment.

Obama as Stand Up Comedian

If he loses the presidency, he might be able to make a good living as a stand up comedian. This is hilarious!

Joe the Plumber Speaks!

A-zing-a-ling-a-ling!

That's what Pic says when someone gets a good zinger in there.

I'm up so early because I just finished creating a test for my faculty mentor that was technically due last night, but whatever, as long as she wakes up this morning with it sitting in her email inbox, she's cool.

I went to a debate watching party last night hosted by Pic. He posted it as an event on barackobama.com on a whim, and someone contacted him and brought two other people with her! In all there were 8 of us, including Pic's mom. I will admit that I felt like a part of something new and awesome, I guess because of the people's response to Pic's party posting online and because we were a racially and culturally diverse group all brought together by a common desire—we want to see Barack Obama in the White House.

This debate was by far the best. McCain definitely stepped up his game. I have to be fair and hand it to him for that. This was his last chance to do it big, my friends. (And he only said "my friends" once! Egads!) He dropped the first zinger when he said, “Senator Obama, I am not President Bush. If you wanted to run against President Bush, you should have run four years ago.” A-zing-a-ling-a-ling!

But then we gave a standing ovation when our boy came back with, “The fact of the matter is that if I occasionally mistake your policies for George Bush’s policies, it’s because on the core economic issues that matter to the American people — on tax policy, on energy policy, on spending priorities — you have been a vigorous supporter of President Bush.” A-zing-a-ling-a-ling!

But McCain was tenacious. We all went "Ooooh" when he threw down the gauntlet on Ayers. Everyone was in suspense, wondering if he was going to go there, and he did. But whenever he does go there, he always looks bad because it's negative and irrelevant. Seriously. Most folks don't care about what "a washed-up terrorist" (as McCain referred to Ayers) did when Obama was in 2nd grade. Um, economy? Er, health care? This was the best zinger of the night: “I think the fact that this has become such an important part of your campaign, Senator McCain, says more about your campaign than it says about me.” A-zing-a-ling-a-ling!

I wish someone in the media would get on the ball and find Joe the Plumber. (I started singing "Joe the Plumber" to the tune of "Bob the Builder" and drew good laugh.) I'd love to know how he felt about being referred to as some kind of icon over 24 times during the debate, but most importantly, who is he going to vote for? The Joes are the ones who are really going to decide this thing.

The Return of Padre

I have tons of work to do tonight. I mean, when do I not? Oh, I wish I were a go-getter. I'm anal about a lot of things, but I wish I were more anal about getting my work done. (sigh.) Anyway, I was overjoyed today because I saw Padre out of the blue. I hadn't seen that man in so long. I was so happy. It really made my day. He was all worried about a test he had to take and was all like, "I'm not going to do very well," and I told him, "Have faith, Father." LOL. It was funny at the time. Okay, back to work.

The Confidant

Is there something about me that makes people want to tell me things in confidence? What can you do when the only thing to do is listen? (In my case, listen and cry?) There is a reason I switched from Social Work to Education in undergrad. Otherwise, I'd be crying every living day. That would not be good.

Reasons to Be Happy

1. God loves me, understands me, thinks I'm special, and knows what's going on with me.

2. I found an outrageously cheap plane ticket to get to St. Louis in time to see my friend present his paper.

3. I think my interview for a scholarship to study abroad in a French-speaking country went well. I should know by next week whether I made the cut!

4. I was able to get from Montgomery to Auburn, change, find a parking spot and get to the Haley Center in time for my observation. A matchless feat!

Here's a story . . .

“A ship owner was about to send to sea an emigrant ship. He had seen that she was old, and not overwell built at the first; that she had seen many seas and climes, and often had needed repairs. Doubts had been suggested to him that possibly she was not seaworthy. These doubts preyed on his mind, and made him unhappy; he thought that perhaps he ought to have her thoroughly overhauled and refitted, even though this should put him to great expense. Before the ship sailed, however, he succeeded in overcoming the melancholy reflections. He said to himself that she had gone safely through so many voyages and weathered so many storms, that it was idle to suppose that she would not come safely home from this trip also. He would put his trust in Providence, which could hardly fail to protect all these unhappy families that were leaving their fatherland to seek for better times elsewhere. He would dismiss from his mind all ungenerous suspicions about the honesty of the builders and the contractors. In such ways he acquired a sincere and comfortable conviction that his vessel was thoroughly safe and seaworthy; he watched her departure with a light heart, and benevolent wishes for the success of the exiles in their strange new home that was to be; and he got his insurance money when she went down in mid-ocean and told no tales.

What shall we say of him? Surely this, that he was verily guilty of the death of those men. It is admitted that he did sincerely believe in the soundness of his ship; but the sincerity of his conviction can in nowise help him, because he had no right to believe on such evidence as was before him. He had acquired his belief not by honestly earning it in patient investigation, but by stifling his doubts…”

— William K. Clifford

The Ethics of Belief (1874)

Biden is nuts . . . in a good way

This guy had me in tears this morning . . . from laughing so hard! When he took off his jacket, I lost all composure. He's nuts! What, you got somethin to say? Say it to my face!

To Remain Inside

“In my sealed world, a problem person who crossed over to the outside was briefly mourned and soon forgotten: an enemy all knew how to handle. They stood away from such a person. But a problem person who chose for whatever reason to remain inside became a feared and troubling liability, and ultimately a demonic presence. They didn’t know how to relate to you because you were inside and outside simultaneously; you blurred the lines of separation; they didn’t know what to tell their children.”

—from My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok

My Take on Prez Debate #2

Oh, boy. This one was more exciting. Again, not a game changer. In fact, at this point, I'm doubtful that anything would be a game changer, with the exception of some hidden scandal or salacious details suddenly brought to light. Neither of them said anything startlingly new about their policy ideas. After we've heard the same thing several times over and everyone knows where the candidates stand and know where they differ (contrasts were drawn even sharper last night than they were at the first debate), the debates become more of a show. I don't say that negatively--we want to know the facts and details, but Americans want to see a show too. How do the candidates temperaments play out? What kind of connection do the candidates make to voters? Who gives off a more presidential air? All of these things were being considered last night.

The 'Straight Talk Express' Lost a Wheel
Obama said that last night in reference to McCain's representation of one of Obama's policies. But it sums up perfectly what happened to our maverick last night.

Mistake #1 First, when Tom Brokaw asks who McCain would appoint to the position of treasury secretary if elected, he says, "Not you, Tom." Ummm . . . that kind of took me off guard. It just seemed out of place. Maybe he was trying to be funny, but it made him look crotchety.

Mistake #2 Then he speaks a bit condescendingly to a young African-American man who asked a question about the economy. In answering his question when talking about Fannie and Freddie he said something to the effect of, "I'll bet you've never even heard of Fannie Mae or Freddie Mac until recently." Er, kind of a gross assumption. That sort of took me off guard, too. Anyone who's ever taken out a student loan is somewhat familiar with at least Fannie.

Mistake #3 He makes another lame attempt at humor when talking about health care and refers to himself as perhaps needing a hair transplant. Um, boooo. Not EVEN funny. It was kind of painful how flatly that joke fell. It was just awkward.

Mistake #4 And then, he commits the mother of all his mistakes up to this point when he refers to Obama as "that one." Ewww and yikes. I'm not suggesting any racist intent. Come on. But it just looked and sounded reaaallly bad. Let's just say his (perhaps inadvertant) objectifying of his opponent did not play in his favor. Oh, at not all, my friends.

Though this is not exactly a "mistake," it also didn't look good when he and Obama were kind of parrying for more time than they were allowed. Though it would only be fair that they both be allowed the same amount of time, somehow McCain came off as whiny when he insisted that he have a chance to follow up, too. Have you ever been babysitting two siblings and gave them each a scoop of ice cream after dinner? One normally cries, "No fair, he has more than I do!" That was McCain's tone.

And lastly, it looked bad when afterward, he and Cindy got the heck out of dodge, leaving Barack and Michelle to work the crowd alone. It was pretty telling, if you ask me.

'That One' Won
Okay, okay, I'm biased. To be fair, Obama had some shaky moments. Foreign policy isn't quite his forte. Obama also has a tendency to get into speechifying mode instead of directly answering the question, and when he gets too wonkish, he loses people. But other than a few moments that could have used a bit of smoothing over, he seemed pretty confident and collected overall. I daresay he seemed presidential.

Look, both of them have reputations--Obama has a reputation for being cool and collected, and has even been criticized by the media for being too cool, for not springing to action fast enough and hard enough. McCain has a reptuation for being hotheaded and impulsive. Both of them lived up to their reputations in obvious ways last night. McCain popped off with some awkward, testy comments, and Obama sat back and smiled, allowing McCain to sink his own ship.

Chris Matthews, during some post-debate commentary, made a comment about the two candidates' smiles. Obama, he said was "gifted with a wonderful smile", while McCain's smile has a "menacing quality." Okay, he's obviously biased too, but that was funny. No? Judge for yourself:

My New Favorite Song

I love it when a song communicates a feeling for me that I can't put into words myself.

When the world has fallen out from under me/ I'll be found in You, still standing/ When the sky rolls up and mountains fall on their knees/ When time and space are through/ I'll be found in You . . .

Wanted: Paper Spokeswoman?

I don't know what I want to do when I graduate. But I've really been mulling a few things over.

It seems that I may have a knack for concisely explaining the points of nerdily theologically complex papers. Let's say you had a nerdily theologically complex paper to present. And let's say you explained the nuts and bolts of your paper to me. I would, in turn, become the spokeswoman for your paper. Any inquiries as to your general state of being would become the starting point for an exposition of your paper. I would talk it up amongst the masses and explain in concise and easy-to-understand terms the heart and soul of your paper, thereby disseminating your ideas into the world at large.

It's just an idea I've been kicking around lately. I should try googling the average salary of a paper spokeswoman. Hmm. No hits. Maybe it's just something I could do on the side.

My Beautiful Cookie Children

If there is one thing that I cannot tolerate, it's burnt cookies. When I say burnt, I don't just mean the whole cookie being burnt to a crisp. To me, 'burnt' is if any part of the cookie is overdone, especially the bottom. What good is a pretty cookie on the top if the bottom is unattractively crunchy?

Just the idea of burnt cookies makes me want to scream. Cookies are meant to be enjoyed. They're meant to be sweet and comforting and indulgent. Taking such a delicious, nurturing image and prefacing it with 'burnt' is a travesty. It's criminal.

Oh, but when they come out perfectly . . . it's so great. There is an art to cooking them just the right amount of time. I may have perfected it. Note that I didn't say that I may have perfected the art of actually making the cookie batter. I mean, why bother when you can just buy those Toll House packages of jumbo cookies, break the little perforated cookie dough squares apart, neatly arrange them on a cookie sheet and pop them in to bake? I was so happy when I rescued my cookie babies out of the oven at just the right time. They're so beautiful! ::sniff, sniff::
Little things make me happy.

The Veep Debate

It's been endlessly dissected and masticated by the media, so my observations are nothing new. But allow me to sum it up.

Palin did better than expected, and Biden gave a solid performance. I was proud of him for not jumping all over his opponent in moments where it would have been easy to.

This is what kills me, though. Some people are gushing about how well Palin did. Let's be clear. It wasn't that she did well, it's that she didn't totally blow it. All she had to do to be a success was not screw up. The bar was set excruciatingly low. She definitely beat the spread by clearing it, but let's get real and not chalk it up to an overwhelming victory. To her credit, she brought up some points where Biden and Obama had differences of opinion in the past. But to her discredit, she repeated vague talking points a lot, and skirted questions by redirecting the conversation to what she felt comfortable talking about (energy), even at one point outrightly refusing to answer. She also hammed it up a little too much with gee-whiz, folksy rhetoric, winking, and cutesy little comeback lines (i.e. "Oh, say it ain't so, Joe"). Come on. You are running for the vice presidency of the United States, not for homecoming queen of Hickville High.

Biden, thank God, reigned it in. He didn't come off as sexist, but neither did he treat her with kid gloves. He pulled it off by not attacking her, but by attacking McCain. He spoke in specifics, and rattled off some pretty salient stats. Our country spends in three weeks in Iraq what we've spent in Afghanistan the whole 6 1/2 years we've been there? He established himself as knowledgeable and having a grasp of the issues, and criticized specific points of McCain's proposals that Palin wasn't able to rebut. He even had an emotional moment while talking about the loss of his first wife and daughter. Palin could have gained some points acknowledging his loss and seeming sympathetic, but instead she rattled off more talking points and tired attack lines.

That Biden won is not anything to gloat over. He had the obvious advantage as a senior statesman. That Palin didn't mess it up is only something for the Republican base to rejoice over. Because that's all she did--reassured the base. It didn't change the game. Because in a race this close, the game is left up to the swingers. States and voters, that is.

Telemarketer Tales

Okay, so I get a unknown number call, and it's a recording saying that I have no problem with my credit card account, but if I'd like to lower my interest rate to 6.8%, press one. Sweet. I pressed one. A real lady answers, and I ask about lowering my credit card's interest rate. Then she asks, "Are you in credit card debt of $4,000 or more?"

I admittedly said,"Noooo," laughingly. I realize it's not uncommon for people to be in credit card debt of those proportions, so my laughter wasn't derisive, but just out of relief that I'm not. And she immediately hung up! Aw, but I wanted to lower my interest rate.

It reminds me of a time a while back when this guy called the house and he said, "Hello, this is Kermit with blah blah blah company. We can do blah blah blah and blah blah blah--"

I felt a torrent of laughter about to break forth. It took everything in me to hold it in for long enough to ask,"Wait a minute, wait a minute. Did you just say 'this is Kermit'?"

He paused and hesitatingly said, "Yes."

I couldn't help myself after that. I mean, come on, the guy's name was Kermit! Like the frog! I went into hysterics and finally said, "Mom, Kermit is on phone for you!"

When my mom got the phone she said, "Hello, Kermit? Please forgive my daughter . . . "

Extrathisblogular Writings

Here are some articles/posts of mine in other writing venues if you care to explore:

Trapped Between Worlds--Uncomfortable with Like-Minded Believers
(Cover article on this week's ninetyandnine.com)

Pentecostal Biography: Aimee Semple McPherson
(Latest bio on Azusa Remixed)

Enjoy!