I enjoyed an editorial I read in the paper yesterday. The writer pleaded, "I'll take my chances with the terrorists, but please protect me from the oil companies."
I couldn't agree more. The approaching $3.00 for a gallon of gasoline is out of control.
As Ryan and I were discussing last night, isn't this what the war in Iraq is really all about? Now all these people - soldiers and civilians - are dead, and we don't even have their g-d oil. Isn't that what G.W. wanted in the first place? The oil? Well, Mr. President, the oil companies are all reporting record profits and those of us who have a half an hour commute back and forth every day are starting to suffer. Pretty soon we won't be able to afford gas to get to work. Then we won't be able to support our families because we can't get to work. Then you'll have an even bigger problem on your hands.
What are you going to do about it?
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Friday, August 12, 2005
an iffy day to be a Lutheran
This afternoon, the ELCA assembly will vote on their sexuality policies...whether or not to bless same-sex unions, whether or not to allow the future ordination of practicing gay men and women in committed relationships, and what to do about those gays and lesbians already ordained, both celibate and non. This vote will be the culmination of fours years of research and study by an appointed task force.
This is an interesting time. Technically, I am an employee of the ELCA because I work for a Lutheran church in the ELCA synod. Therefore, the results of these votes will have an impact on me, in one way or another. There is talk of a schism, like the Anglicans and the Episcopalians, but I don't think we are in danger of that.
I am an advocate for tolerance and inclusion. I believe in unity and acceptance and civil rights. I hope the ELCA will make the right decision.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
dreams, the 'wavelength', the father-daughter bond, and other assorted stuff...
Dreams:
Last night I had a dream I was being chased by a creepy, red-bearded old man. I had to run through forests and swim through a lake to escape him. He was shifty-looking...bald, but with a bad comb-over, no moustache, just the beard. I couldn't quite tell if he had all his teeth or not, from the quick glances I had to throw over my shoulder. I was, after all, being menacingly pursued by a stranger. I reached safety when I got to a base of Marines in the area, who captured my potential assailant, handcuffed him, and led him away.
That's all I remember, but I wonder if this dream has any significance. Usually I am not one for heavy analysis. It used to interest me, and my personal library even contains a few books on dream interpretation. However, I never really gave much credence to it. What I do find befuddling, though, is that every once in a while, I experience something that might be deja vu, or might not be. When I experience this sensation, usually I feel that whatever is happening to me at the moment is something about which I had previously had a dream. I wouldn't say this occurs frequently; just often enough to alarm me in a way that makes me stop what I am doing at the moment, and try desperately to recall the dream. It never works.
The 'Wavelength':
An interesting phenomenon, indeed.
That is what I refer to when a close friend and I say the same thing (or IM the same thing, more likely) at the same time. This only occurs with a few people in my life, specifically Julia, with whom I have been friends with for almost more years than I can count. Also, it happens quite often with Ryan, with whom I haven't been friends with quite as long as Julia, but with whom I have some other unexplained, "cosmic" connection. More recently, I have developed 'the wavelength' with Lauren, who moved away to North Carolina a couple of weeks ago. It seems only natural, I suppose. (She is my younger sister's best friend of many years, my younger brother's girlfriend, and very much like my second sister.) Yesterday afternoon, while I was composing a letter to Lauren, the phone rang. She was on the other end of the line, and when I told her I was right in the middle of writing her, we had a good chuckle about it, and a host of, "Oh my God, that is SO weird!"
The father-daughter bond:
Does it really even exist outside of the negative, teen angst-ridden form?
There are very few things my father and I agree on (my mother's bad habits), and countless things about which we disagree (mostly politics).
Those who know me well know what a rocky relationship I have had with my father over the years. Lately, it has gotten a little touchy because dear old Dad is in dire need of a hip replacement. To the point where his "sunny" disposition is in serious jeopardy. My mother, sister, and I have been nagging my father to just have the darned operation already, to make the rest of us less miserable being around him. He has put it off for several years now. But, Eureka! This morning when I spoke to my mother on the phone, she told me he is as ready as can be and will do it right after the first of the year. (He'd do it sooner, except there's some issue with the insurance or something.) He'll be laid up for 6 weeks, post-op. And what will he do during this recovery time? "Learn guitar. Heidi can teach me."
Oh.
My.
God.
My father actually wants to learn something from me? Immediately I was suspicious upon learning this information. Maybe because it'll be cheap...he won't have to pay for lessons. In the beginning, of course. My guitar skills are minimal, but at least I can explain some very basic concepts, and oh boy am I going to make him learn theory.
I am more like my father than I care to admit...I am very stubborn, especially when I am certain I am right about something. My mantra sometimes is: Just because it's not the way I would do it doesn't mean it's wrong. Perhaps we will be able to learn from each other.
The other assorted stuff:
1. Tomorrow Ryan and I are going to Buffalo to attend the memorial service for Julia's grandmother. My condolences to her family. I first her grandmother when we were in grade school. At Julia's wedding last summer, I had a chance to re-acquaint myself with her...she was an energetic spit-fire, full of spunk. I liked her very much. I've been asked to bring my keyboard for a little back-up, moral support. I'm not exactly sure what I'll be doing, but whatever it is, I am honored to be a participant in the service.
2. I was looking at our co-blog after noticing someone had left a comment. Boy, did I get fired up! "Anonymous" said, "Read your blog, think you'd like this website", with a link. So I click the link. Do you KNOW where it took me?!? 60 Second Mortgage Quotes. This is what the world of self-expression through blogging has come to: unsolicited advertising. Spam comments on blogs. How utterly offensive.
And that's all I have to say about that.
Last night I had a dream I was being chased by a creepy, red-bearded old man. I had to run through forests and swim through a lake to escape him. He was shifty-looking...bald, but with a bad comb-over, no moustache, just the beard. I couldn't quite tell if he had all his teeth or not, from the quick glances I had to throw over my shoulder. I was, after all, being menacingly pursued by a stranger. I reached safety when I got to a base of Marines in the area, who captured my potential assailant, handcuffed him, and led him away.
That's all I remember, but I wonder if this dream has any significance. Usually I am not one for heavy analysis. It used to interest me, and my personal library even contains a few books on dream interpretation. However, I never really gave much credence to it. What I do find befuddling, though, is that every once in a while, I experience something that might be deja vu, or might not be. When I experience this sensation, usually I feel that whatever is happening to me at the moment is something about which I had previously had a dream. I wouldn't say this occurs frequently; just often enough to alarm me in a way that makes me stop what I am doing at the moment, and try desperately to recall the dream. It never works.
The 'Wavelength':
An interesting phenomenon, indeed.
That is what I refer to when a close friend and I say the same thing (or IM the same thing, more likely) at the same time. This only occurs with a few people in my life, specifically Julia, with whom I have been friends with for almost more years than I can count. Also, it happens quite often with Ryan, with whom I haven't been friends with quite as long as Julia, but with whom I have some other unexplained, "cosmic" connection. More recently, I have developed 'the wavelength' with Lauren, who moved away to North Carolina a couple of weeks ago. It seems only natural, I suppose. (She is my younger sister's best friend of many years, my younger brother's girlfriend, and very much like my second sister.) Yesterday afternoon, while I was composing a letter to Lauren, the phone rang. She was on the other end of the line, and when I told her I was right in the middle of writing her, we had a good chuckle about it, and a host of, "Oh my God, that is SO weird!"
The father-daughter bond:
Does it really even exist outside of the negative, teen angst-ridden form?
There are very few things my father and I agree on (my mother's bad habits), and countless things about which we disagree (mostly politics).
Those who know me well know what a rocky relationship I have had with my father over the years. Lately, it has gotten a little touchy because dear old Dad is in dire need of a hip replacement. To the point where his "sunny" disposition is in serious jeopardy. My mother, sister, and I have been nagging my father to just have the darned operation already, to make the rest of us less miserable being around him. He has put it off for several years now. But, Eureka! This morning when I spoke to my mother on the phone, she told me he is as ready as can be and will do it right after the first of the year. (He'd do it sooner, except there's some issue with the insurance or something.) He'll be laid up for 6 weeks, post-op. And what will he do during this recovery time? "Learn guitar. Heidi can teach me."
Oh.
My.
God.
My father actually wants to learn something from me? Immediately I was suspicious upon learning this information. Maybe because it'll be cheap...he won't have to pay for lessons. In the beginning, of course. My guitar skills are minimal, but at least I can explain some very basic concepts, and oh boy am I going to make him learn theory.
I am more like my father than I care to admit...I am very stubborn, especially when I am certain I am right about something. My mantra sometimes is: Just because it's not the way I would do it doesn't mean it's wrong. Perhaps we will be able to learn from each other.
The other assorted stuff:
1. Tomorrow Ryan and I are going to Buffalo to attend the memorial service for Julia's grandmother. My condolences to her family. I first her grandmother when we were in grade school. At Julia's wedding last summer, I had a chance to re-acquaint myself with her...she was an energetic spit-fire, full of spunk. I liked her very much. I've been asked to bring my keyboard for a little back-up, moral support. I'm not exactly sure what I'll be doing, but whatever it is, I am honored to be a participant in the service.
2. I was looking at our co-blog after noticing someone had left a comment. Boy, did I get fired up! "Anonymous" said, "Read your blog, think you'd like this website", with a link. So I click the link. Do you KNOW where it took me?!? 60 Second Mortgage Quotes. This is what the world of self-expression through blogging has come to: unsolicited advertising. Spam comments on blogs. How utterly offensive.
And that's all I have to say about that.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
returning to the routine and mundane
Our last day was bitter-sweet. By the time Tuesday came, I was desperate for my babies. There was time for one last swim before packing the car and and making the 2 1/2 hour trek home.
Why oh why did we have to come home?
Back to work, back to dryness, back to heat and humidity...
Why oh why did we have to come home?
Back to work, back to dryness, back to heat and humidity...
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