How Great Thou Art

My friend Sabrina had this as her FB status update.

A simple way to take the measure of a country is to look at how many want in... and how many want out. Only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you: 1. Jesus Christ 2. The American G.I. One died for your soul, the other for your freedom.' -Tony Blair

Hells yeah.

What's Wrong with This Picture?

Oh my God.

Not only do they want to hold the trial of Khalid Sheikh Mohammed et al IN NEW YORK CITY, within walking distance of Ground Zero, they want to afford him Constitutional rights.

What the fuck is wrong with our president?

http://marklevinfan.com/?p=5948

New Perspective

ME: I thought of a good blog post title, but I don't have the text to go with it--church of anticipation
AMBER: LOL. Now you're trying to jam your life into the title

Watch for Falling Anvils

Ok, so I can't get this damn thing to cut and paste, but Mrs. L sent it to me, and I found it hilarious, and right now, I am taking the opportunity to say, "What a maroon!" though the Prez is in no way a worthy adversary of the great and mighty Bugs Bunny.

www.newsbusters.org/blog/mike-bates/2009/11/06/obama-gives-shout-out-congressional-medal-honor-winner-who-isnt

You, sir, are no Wile E. Coyote.

(In the meanwhile, I'd like to give a real shout-out to Handsome with a Beard who named this post for me.)

Too Many Angels

http://www.americanthinker.com/blog/2009/11/our_clueless_c_in_c.html

I watched this press conference today and decided it was the most bizarre and uninspired bullshit I’ve ever heard. First of all, President Obama spent the first two minutes of four talking about the recently concluded Tribal Nations Conference. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think the deaths of 12 people and the wounding of 31 more take precedence over anything political going on. Talk about burying your lead.

Perhaps because of my close ties to the military, I feel the need to have a C-in-C who sounds like he cares about them. Where was the emotion? Where was any hint of feeling at all? And, I keep coming back to it, can’t quite seem to get off it, why the hell didn’t he LEAD with “what a horrific outburst of violence”?

“There are too many angels in heaven" today, but Obama doesn’t even seem to care.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQWxgnFc1fk&feature=player_embedded

"More than any time in recent history, America's destiny is not of our own choosing. We did not seek nor did we provoke an assault on our freedom and our way of life. We did not expect nor did we invite a confrontation with evil. Yet the true measure of a people's strength is how they rise to master that moment when it does arrive...The streets of Heaven are too crowded with angels tonight. They're our students and our teachers and our parents and our friends. The streets of Heaven are too crowded with angels. But every time we think we've measured our capacity to meet a challenge, we look up and we're reminded that that capacity may well be limitless. This is a time for American heroes. We will do what is hard; we will achieve what is great. This is a time for American heroes, and we reach for the stars. God bless their memory, God bless you, and God bless the United States of America."

Some Enchanted Evening

I watch as Lauren, looking dewy and blissful, reaches the first pew on her father’s arm. I step out of the bridesmaids’ line to take my place behind the pulpit, shielded by a potted palm; the wedding planner doesn’t want me distracting the guests. From my hidey-hole, I have a perfect view of the groomsmen.

It starts with a glance, a gaze held across the room for no more than a moment. Perhaps there’s a feeling of recognition or a spark of excitement, or both. I’ve never thought that familiarity had to kill excitement.

Whatever it is, there’s the hook, and the stealing of glances becomes more frequent, though shorter in duration because now I’m afraid he’s going to notice I can’t stop staring. If I’m not careful, this will give me the appearance of having a severe tick.

This is the opposite of how I felt with Stranger.

The physical attraction is instant and undeniable, but there’s something else I see, something around his eyes that speaks of kindness and humor. I’ve seen him up close, and he is a tall man. I find this comforting beyond belief.

I’m not nervous about reading; I make my living in front of people, and I’m comfortable there. Here, for this wedding, I know what I’m supposed to do, down to the tiniest detail. My glasses (trifocals) are already sitting on the pulpit, ready to be slipped on in a practiced move. The bible is open to the correct page, and my eyes know exactly where to go. I won’t hesitate when it’s time. Secure in this knowledge, I set to people watching. The only ones I can see clearly are the groomsmen, all of whom have been polite the past 24 hours, if somewhat distant. During this perusal, I catch the eye of Handsome with a Beard. He smiles at me, and I smile back, and now, suddenly, I’m nervous.

What if I trip on my dress?
What if my shoes clack too loudly on the parquet floor?
What if I start crying?
What if I start crying and I ruin the humongous bible?
What if start crying and drip on the humongous bible and while trying to wipe it up, knock the humongous bible off the pulpit and down the stairs all the way to the altar rail?

Heart in my throat, I look back at Handsome with a Beard. He smiles. I smile. He winks. I look away.

Lauren’s father gives her to Evan, and I walk to the pulpit.

I do not trip, clack, cry, or drop anything, but with a last glance at Handsome with a Beard, I do forget to put my glasses on.

Don't Know What I Want, Won't Be Happy 'Til I Get It

So the next chapter in the dating log begins…

I know, I know. I haven’t written anything in quite some time (sorry, Amber). I did start this one in early September. Does that count? I’ve since set this particular new guy free, but I am a fan of chronological order, so before I can write anything about my current experiences, I need to elaborate on what the past few months have been like. Here goes!

Dating a new guy, aka Stranger, is so much harder than I thought it would be. There were so many things I missed from my prior relationship that I forgot:

1. We had not instantly started out in the lean-against-him-during-the-movie-with-no-self-consciousness-at-all stage.
2. That hand-holding is awkward at first.
3. That comfortable shared silences are actually grown not born.
4. That kissing is fundamentally yucky if you’re not madly attracted to the other person.
5. That before we really let people into our wacky little worlds, we should know them better (though, truly, until you let them in and they let you in, how can you possibly know them well enough to know if they’ll fit? Ay me. What a conundrum!).

My learning curve, I hope, is getting steeper.

I do not think I like the idea of dating Stranger because it’s, well, Strange. I can’t quite seem to find my feet around him. He seems to like everything he sees just fine, but we appear to be very opposite in terms of mannerisms and varying forms of expression. There’s a stillness about him that I find inherently disturbing—it’s not creepy, not at all, more like he’s a Zen master, and I’m a 3 year-old hopped up on Kool-Aid and Fruit Roll-Ups.

I love the idea that being with someone helps you define yourself more truly, but so far my definition of me has deteriorated quite a bit. Around Stranger, I feel gauche and graceless, chirpy and loud. Conversation never lags; he can hold his own with me (thank God), but I still feel overwhelmed by…me. We’re not to a point yet where I feel like I can or should tone down the self that I present to others. The laughing woman [most] people know and like is always “on.”

Those who know me well know that after that vivacity wears off, I’m frequently a sleepy kind of person, one who’s content simply to be in the same room with the ones she loves, reading a book while they do something else. But I think the beginning is supposed to be exciting and whirlwind, full of chemistry and temptation, and that’s there, I suppose, but what I’ve found is that I cannot maintain that pace. Not only can I not do it, I don’t want to.

I feel like a Pandora’s box of contradictions: I want excitement but not too much; he needs to want to touch me, but not too soon; I want him to not expect too much and be happy with the little I feel I have to offer. The last one’s especially hard for me to realize, as I’ve wanted so much to find someone to pair off with. I like being part of a couple, but the understanding is starting to dawn about why dating really is so hard: there are very few people who fit into my little quirky world. I’m willing to bet most of the world has already figured that out for themselves. I just got so lucky the first time around, that after I got over the initial “I’ll never love again” stage, it didn’t occur to me that it wouldn’t happen just as easily and quickly.

Boy, was I wrong.