bekahcubed

Categories Everyday Life, Faith

Kernan Boulevard Baptist Church

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Church was nice. We were at Kernan Blvd Baptist Church. The people seemed friendly, although somewhat old. I met a nice older couple named Gloria and Charles. They weren’t members of the church since they actually are just in Jacksonville for a while as Charles is awaiting a medical procedure. But they were quite nice. I got a hug from another older woman who seemed to be in her early seventies. She said she doesn’t believe in handshakes. I don’t think she gave me her name though.

Our group goes to church with Clint’s group–Bryce, Jared, and Patrick. They are the same group we had our date with on Friday night. It was kind of neat to spend a bit more time with them between the service and lunch afterward. One of the guys said that he shook the hand of the person next to him no less than 3 times. Wow! I was glad to have been sitting on the end, with only one person I knew beside me. That enabled me to get to know the people I didn’t know better. Hence meeting Gloria and Charles.

An interesting note about Kernan Boulevard Baptist Church is that their statement of faith proclaims that they “DO NOT BELIEVE THAT SPEAKING IN TONGUES IS SCRIPTURALLY ACCEPTABLE FOR OUR DAY AND DO NOT PRACTICE OR TEACH IT.” (Their emphasis.) I’ve seen a lot of churches and para-church organizations that “don’t talk about what they don’t talk about”, but I think this is the first time I’ve seen the fully ANTI position laid out in a statement of faith. Oh well, I guess I’ll have to stay a bit quiet to avoid getting kicked out! Just kidding. I’m sure they wouldn’t kick me out, but I don’t doubt they’d be praying hard for my salvation!

They have a orchestra concert for their Sunday night service tonight so Amy and I are going to check it out while Veronica attends mass. Perhaps some other week we can join her for mass–which is in English, you know, due to the decision of the second Vatican Council to affirm proclaiming the word in the vernacular.

Categories Reflections

Dependent on Black

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I’ve known that I was dependent on black, but I never realized exactly how much until now, when I’m deprived of it. Dressing for dinner last night was impossible. I didn’t have any black–how was I to be cute? The same thing goes for church today. I feel like I’m just wearing normal clothes–a striped polo type shirt with a short khaki skirt and KEDS. When all the other girls look wonderful in their soft or bright colors, I merely look ordinary. Perhaps this is my idol–looking good. In that case, this summer is severely testing my devotion to God above my looks.

I look and feel the best when I’m in my swimsuit. After all, it’s black. After I get back from the beach my hair is full, my eyes are bright, and my facial features pop. Then it’s back into pastels and I’m bland again. I wash my hair and it lies flat again. My eyes and lips fade into the never-ending blahness of my dress.

Categories Everyday Life

More time in JAX

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Our date on the beach…was amazing. We weren’t told anything except that we were to wear beach clothing, but when we arrived, all the guys were wearing fanny packs. (Yep, you heard me right. Fanny packs. Like, bum bags!) They had candy and water to share and some even had headlights for when it got dark.

So at this point, you’re thinking…what on earth were they doing out there? We were playing in the sand. Talk about having a blast! We created a ginormous sand octopus with tentacles that writhed under and over one another. His name of Oscar–Oscar the octopus. Beautiful! We were about halfway done when the rain started pouring. After it had slowed down, we bailed him out and completed him. We then took tons of pictures, none on my camera. Hopefully, I can find a way to get some from Clint.

After that, the guys went to the supermarket to get some ice cream while the girls changed. We ate our raspberry sherbet and vanilla ice cream with or without dark chocolate topping or Reese’s crackle topping in one of the lounges and hung out a bit. It was fun. (Almost forgot–one of the guys had some homemade oatmeal cookies. We ate those too.)

Today all the Shands hospital people went to get our TB tests and then on to Evangelism training. It rained for a solid hour when we were about to go out onto the beaches, so we didn’t get out there until two. Veronica and I walked at least a mile along the beach without meeting anyone we could talk to. Mostly, it was just guys who were out in the choppy weather and off/on rain. So today’s beach evangelism was less than amazing.

After beach evangelism, we girls dressed up real purty and went out with another girl team to Copeland’s Famous New Orleans Bar and Restaurant. I had the Jambalaya which was expensive but good. I’ll have the leftovers for lunch or dinner tomorrow. Now, I’m taking it easy, catching up on my weblog and planning to spend some time in the word this evening. Blessings!

Categories Everyday Life

First Days in JAX

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I’ve been to the beach twice in as many days. And I have a feeling that our date tonight is at the beach as well. I wasn’t sure whether I’d like it or not. I’m not too sporty and definitely don’t need a tan. And I discovered that I’m still not sure if I like the beach or not, but I absolutely love the ocean. It’s so immense, so alive. And I am so small in relation to it. It gives me a sense of perspective. I could so easily be lost in that water–in the crashing waves, in the wind’s roar, in the birds’ call. Today a journaled as I sat at the beach: “It’s not hard to know the glory of the Lord in this place. I can see it in the waves, hear it as the sea calls out and the birds respond. The sea, the wind, the waves, movement on the sand, children laughing. And the sun’s silence reminds me that God speaks through the wind and the waves, the storms, and the loud; but sometimes He simply speaks through the quiet.” As the other girls lay sunbathing–reading or listening to music–I sat there and contemplated the words to the song “Still, I will be still.” Stillness is such an elusive thing for me. I am used to running and dancing and serving and staying busy. Stillness I do not know, nor does it know me. But today I took a glimpse at stillness in the midst of the ocean’s ceaseless busyness and I rested. And it was beautiful.

My team is wonderful. Allie is our team leader. She’s loud, she describes her driving as “aggressively good” (a euphemism for crazy), and she has an amazing testimony of God’s greatness. Amy is probably the quietest of us, but that doesn’t mean she sits back and lets everyone else do the talking. She’s always coming up with some way to direct our attention back to God. Yesterday, she directed our conversation towards how we can see God in the ocean, in the seashells, and in our everyday lives. Sandra (with the a as in “hat”) comes from Jacksonville and therefore knows the area quite well. She is probably the most flamboyant personality on our team. Veronica is from Kansas and her voice and mine are virtually indistinguishable when we’re both lying down. She reminds me a lot of myself except that I talk more. She’s more likely to draw people out and get them to talk about themselves than I am. All three of my team members and I share a room. We have two bunkbeds. All of them run. They’ve invited me to join them, but I don’t think I have the stamina to start off with their normal morning run. So, we’re going to figure out some sort of exercise rotation that includes a walk/run combo so that I can work my way up to joining them.

Friday night (tonight) is date night. Our team was asked on a date last night by a male team. They dropped a bottle on a fishing line from a railing while we we’re all standing on the bottom floor of the dorm. The message in the bottle said something to the effect of: “Girls are good, God is better.” The inside of the card read, “But you can’t ask God on a date. Please join us Friday night at 7 in the lobby. Wear beach attire.” We scrawled our answer back and let them reel the bottle back in. “We accept.” So tonight–we have a date.

We haven’t gotten into Bible study hardcore yet, although perhaps we should. Our first Bible study meeting is next Wednesday. Tomorrow is beach evangelism (so that’ll be my fourth time on the beach in three days–assuming the boys really are taking us to the beach.) And then on Sunday, we have church. We’ll be attending some sort of Southern Baptist church that’s a little ways away from where we’re staying. It should be interesting.

Categories Reflections

Reflections on road trips

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Day 1: Frantically getting to know one another. Nontstop talking. Asking questions. Smiling so much your face hurts. Trying to be cute, attractive, funny. Everything must be equal. Why won’t he talk?

Day 2: Learning that silence is golden. Brief questions interrupting the quiet. Sharing a quote from the book I’m reading. Deep conversation. Resting.

Day 3: Comfortable. No need to speak. No anecdotes to relate. We’ve been doing it together. Sing to the music. Watch the road. Calm. Quiet. No worries. We are known to each other. Settling into the mundane.

Categories Reflections

The things I’ll miss

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Life barrels along, and I’m down to just a few days before I leave for Jacksonville. Z-360 gave me a bit of a surprise going away party tonight. At least I managed to avoid all out, nose snotting tears. Instead I had just enough that the girls warned me that my mascara was running. Thank goodness I didn’t try to mascara my under-eyelashes. What is it about going aways that are so sweet and so melancholy? It wasn’t so much the gift of a beach bag–although that is much appreciated. But that my girls should recognize me. There are only so many times that a woman is allowed to rejoice over things accomplished, but I think tonight was one of those nights. It’s so gratifying to have so many tell me that I’ll be missed, or just give me hugs that tell me silently. The hugs and the kind wishes tell me that I haven’t wasted the past umpteen years of service. God has blessed me with my girls, and even if I don’t always feel like anything has accomplished, somehow these girls have seen just the tiniest bit of Christ in me. And that’s what I really care about.

I’ll miss so many things while I’m gone–Jeremy and Erin’s new baby, Ashley’s potty-training, the Z-360 summer trip, the search for a new youth pastor, the youth softball team’s games. My brother got his announcement that he’s a delegate to the Lancaster County Republican Convention. I’ve missed my chance to be a delegate for this cycle. And I’ll miss two sweet months of Justin and Brandon’s baseball lives, and Brandon might forget where we’re at in the Chronicles of Narnia. And Kaitlin will grow on without me, and Amanda will finish her Lord of the Rings figurines and improve her batting. All without me. Danielle and Jeremy will get married, and I won’t be there to see. So much will happen, and I’ll be gone.

But as Daniel prayed even tonight, “Lord, let her rest.” I take such joy in the busyness of loving the children and enjoying the youth and delighting in the elderly within our body. I spend so much time serving and doing and doing. And like Martha, so many times I am “distracted by much service.” I need to get away from it all so that I can rest. And I have the opportunity to spend two months seeking the face of God. And I can’t wait.

I said that one of my goals for this summer was to see more of what God’s plan for the church is. I think I’ve learned my first lesson. Because the church isn’t something esoteric that can only be tangled through by the most complex of thoughts. No, the church is Erin, who offered her encouragement and prayers and reminded me that the baby would still be here when I got back. The church is Casandra, who hugged me and told me I would be missed, who begged me to keep in touch. The church is Cheryl, who lets me borrow her kids to love and then sends me home with a new beach towel (from the kids) and flowers and cupcakes. The church is Jason, who reminds me, if he doesn’t see me again before I leave, to have a great trip. The church is Kaitlin who offers a hug and always says hi. The church is Carolyn who learns of my upcoming nose job, and not knowing yet that it isn’t cosmetic, just tells the Lord that that’s all right, she’d like for God to bless the surgery. The church is Hazel, who doesn’t really travel that well–but still plenty often. The church is the many who have told me they got my letter and they’re praying, excited about me going. The church is Dora, who offered me her best tips for not peeling when you sunburn. The church is Paula, who offered me my pick of Beach towels, even when I lost her letter in the midst of my paperwork. The church is Starla, who cleaned up lunch for me, even when she didn’t have to. The church is these people, and so many more believers, who choose to lay down their lives, to reflect Christ, to love others.

And now that my mascara’s completely gone, I should probably end my emotional writing. Tomorrow’s a new day, full of frantic rushing and crazy last minute details. I never really imagined how much could be included in leaving my life for two months. But I also see the grace of God in so many ways. Details fall into place, great friends support me, and the hand of God continues to sustain me. Blessed be His name forever!

Categories Reflections

Reflections of a old woman

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What is it that makes me so melancholy when my life is so full? Do I miss the sweetness of my life for longing for the one thing that it lacks? Do I forget the pleasures of today pining for the treasures of tomorrow?

I have spent too many years in tomorrow, I know not if I can regain the todays I have. Years of longing dreaming, making dates and never keeping them. I was to have a house by 25, I knew it inside. But my todays never matched my dream of tomorrow, and now that is only a false hope. And the todays I lived got lost in the plans for tomorrow so that I do not know whether I have succeeded or failed. I can list my activities but cannot list my accomplishments, for everything I have done has fallen short of its intention. How can I regain today with pure hope for tomorrow?

Fallen, dismayed, dashed, diseased. And I become an old maid, not out of age but out of loss. For an old maid is only a woman who feels only the losses of yesterday and none of the future of today. I mourn the setting aside of my little girl dresses, but instead of taking up the gay young woman’s garb, I settle down to widow’s weeds. I act as if I had lost my life, when I have only just begun. If life is beads upon a chain, my first twenty have been forgotten while dreaming of the ones that would come.

But I will not remain in this state. I will only beg my Lord that He restore the years of the locust, that my life might not be unfruitful. I will only petition my Savior that He redeem my dreams. I will hold fast to my Beloved. But still my heart will ask, in peace and anguish both–I beg You, my Lord, a letter. A letter I might open with “Dearest friend” and close “Ever, affectionately yours.”

Categories Reflections

Listless

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I know that it’s the end of the school year because I’m listless. I’m not interested in watching a movie, in reading a book, in cleaning, in surfing the web, in cooking, in researching. I don’t want to do anything but I don’t want to be doing nothing. So I flit from thing to thing–reading a chapter of a book here, watching the beginning of a movie there, downloading a journal article and never reading it. I draw a picture just to see if I can and I’m discontent with the outcome but unwilling to change it. We’ve had too much rain to go outside, and none of my normal time wasters–spider solitaire or sudoku–seem interesting. I have cabin fever at the end of April and it’s driving me crazy.

I remind myself of Sunny in Lori Wick’s The Hawk and the Jewel. She runs from one escapade to another, never satisfied unless she’s doing something crazy. And as soon as she is discovered or she has been at her escapade for more than a week, she loses interest and is at a loss for what to do or how to handle herself. Her niece confronts her, telling her that she must stop running from thing to thing. She must find rest in God.

Is that my problem? Of course it is. It always has been. It is my always struggle. I must learn to rely on God, to rest in Him, to not have to have something else filling my time.

Lord, help me not to seek a “quick fix” in busyness. May I instead choose to enjoy each season of my life–the busy seasons and the boring ones. Instead of this restless energy, may I find rest in the midst of the times of not doing things. And may I find refuge in You in the times of overwhelming busyness. Teach me each day to rely more and more on You.

Categories Following Christ, Reflections

Scared if I do

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I’m scared if I do and I’m scared if I don’t. Last November, I knew exactly what to do this summer. I was going to Jacksonville. There was no doubt in my mind that that was the right thing to do. And then I got back to work at home and everything became muddled. I went back to thinking that the church needed me–I couldn’t leave. (Hello, Rebekah! Even our Pastor has gone on sabbatical! Why can’t you?) And I started to think that since my scholarship is on the way out the door, I can’t afford to give my summer to God. (Hello, Rebekah! Didn’t God promise to provide for you if you put Him first? He always has in the past.) And I started to think that if I went to Jacksonville, I’d have to grow. And I wondered if that was really what I wanted.

I’d convinced myself that I couldn’t do STP during the month of December. And then came January. I realized with startling awareness that all those excuses were the same excuses I’d been telling God before November–when everything became so clear. God had already roundly refuted those excuses. So why was I going back to them again? And so I knew that I must go to STP. I flirted with the application, thought about putting filling it out on my to-do list. I wavered, then my resolution grew. It was God’s plan. Just as I’d known in November, I knew now. I was supposed to apply for STP.

I hadn’t yet filled out the application when Jackie approached me tonight. She asked me to think about being a team leader. And all the questions that filled my mind threatened to make me rip up the application and say to heck with it. Can I really lead? Can I lead my peers? I don’t think they know what they’re asking. I’m not really that spiritual. I’m not sure that I’m really that good of a Christian. Can I really do it? Or have I just been really good at faking in the past? And what about leading anyway? I’ve never actually led anything at Navs before. Ever. Not really. I mean, I’ve given my testimony, served. I talk to people and participate in discussion and stuff. But I’m not a leader here. How do they even know that I have any potential–if I have any potential?

And what about getting away from a performance mentality? Would this put me right back into it? would this destroy my chances of taking time to spend with the Lord and with fellow believers instead of trying to be super-Christian and hold the church on my shoulders? And what about only being able to work a part time job? Lord, do You really provide? But I want to do it so much. Do you know how I’ve longed to lead? How frustrated I have been at having so many opportunities to serve–which I love–but never having the opportunity to truly lead. I want so badly to be able to live life with another person and help them to grow. I want so badly to learn to lead others into the Word. I want so badly to learn to empathize
for others–to weep when they’re weeping and laugh when they’re laughing. I want to be a leader. I want to learn it. I want to teach and be trained to do so. I want to lead and be trained to do so. I want to disciple and be trained to do so. But I’m scared to death to even try.

Are You really sufficient
When my cup can’t hold any more?
Are You really enough
When I’m empty?
When I sin
Are You still the One
Who ransoms?
When I’m lost
Are You still
the Good Shepherd?
And when I long
for a husband
Are you still my bridegroom?
Jesus are you?
Are you really enough?
How can I do this?
I’m dying inside?
Are you still my life?
I don’t feel it
Are you still interceding?
How I need it
Jesus, my Saviour
Jesus, my Lord
Jesus, my Lover
Jesus, my Life
I need it, I need You
Help!

Categories Rants, Reflections

A little bit of this, a little bit of that

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I have serious issues with people whose blogs don’t have any method to their madness. I abhor blogs that are little more than “I did this and then I did this.” It’s like, “That’s wonderful, but do you really not have anything better to say?” And then there are the people who jump from topic to topic. I want to scream, “Focus! If you’d stay on topic maybe I could actually think about what you’re trying to say. As it is, you’re giving me a headache.” Consider this an apology. I’m going to do what I’ve always hated. This post will be disjointed and unfocused. You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to.

My favorite kind of guy is the kind who’s obviously in a relationship with someone–who doesn’t happen to be currently present. Everyone knows that he’s dating someone and he knows that everyone knows that he’s dating someone. It makes things so much less awkward. It’s clear that he’s dating someone else, so no one needs to conjecture that you’re interested in him because you hang around him. And she’s not there to act jealous and clingy.

I think I must be really flirty–or that maybe I give off “I like you” vibes even when I don’t necessarily “like” someone. I like eye contact. I enjoy talking to people. I like to hear people’s stories. I like to laugh. My eyebrows do weird things when I’m conversing. I’m not necessarily flirting or “in like” with someone. I just do that.

It always cracks me up when in the middle of a perfectly good conversation, a guy breaks off with a worried crease in his forehead and starts telling me about his girlfriend. And I think, “That’s wonderful, but what does she have to do with this conversation? I’m really not trying to hit on you. Seriously.” And then there are those that I can have good times with for awhile and then suddenly they’re gone and don’t talk to me and avoid eye contact forever afterward. And I think, “You’re okay. Believe it or not, looking at me will not somehow make you susceptible to my wiles. I don’t like you like that.”

So that’s why attached guys whose girlfriends aren’t around are my favorite. I can ask them to dance without fearing that they’ll think I’m interested. I can make eye contact and laugh when they say something that amuses me without feeling like I’m being considered a flirt. I can treat them like brothers without feeling that my actions will be misconstrued as thinking of them as something more than brothers.

I have a bag of onions in my car. They’ve been there for almost a month. Maybe someday I’ll clean them out. Maybe. It’s amazing the sorts of things I can accumulate. I have the case an AOL trial CD came in sitting on my desk. I threw the trial CD away promptly. But I kept the case. Why? I don’t know. I never really thought about it.

I can’t get warm. Barn Dance was marvelous but it froze me through. I’ve been home at least an hour and my thermostat is set to 76 degrees. And my feet are still frozen, my arms have goosebumps, and my legs are a ghastly shade of purple. Or maybe that’s just because of the dust. My snot was black. Disgusting. I should shower, get all the dust off of me. But I’m too tired. I’m weighing it in my mind. Maybe. Maybe Not. Can’t decide. Never can. I will by tomorrow morning.

Josh read one of my favorite quotes in his testimony today. “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.” C.S. Lewis. Mere Christianity is seriously one of the best books in the world. I should review it here sometime soon. Why is it that as much as we have seen that no experience in this world can satisfy our longing, we still think that it’s just because we haven’t done the right thing yet? Solomon said it was all meaningless, chasing after the wind, but we say, “I haven’t tried everything yet. Give me a while to try everything before I admit that You’re the answer to my longing.”

I cut myself twice yesterday while trying to cut out cards to use for Scripture memory. My medieval herb cutting scissors from Sweden are great, but probably not the best for cutting five layers of cardstock. My little wounds got dust in them and they hurt now. When will I stop hurting myself? I’m always burning myself while cooking, cutting myself instead of the croissant, and accidentally banging myself against objects I knew were present all along. Maybe I have a subconscious death wish or self-mutilation fantasy. I think that’s a bunch of baloney. I think it has more to do with my being scatterbrained and a bit clumsy.

Speaking of clumsy, you should have seen my group for the second set of square dancing tonight. My first group was getting along well–I was the one who made the most mistakes–and everyone else danced swimmingly (I’ve always wanted to use that word.) But that second set. We sort of threw together a group of people–coerced some into joining us, I think. And we were BAD (with all caps.) But we had a blast. And that’s what it’s about right? Not looking good or following the rules or whatever. I dance for fun. I always have. When it ceases to be fun and becomes work, I will quit dancing. Which I kind of doubt will happen in this lifetime–and as we all know, we will have glorified bodies in the next and won’t have to worry about the curse of toil–so Dance On, Baby!

Facebook is evil. My brother is on Facebook at his high school. He doesn’t have any friends yet. That’s sad. But then there are only twenty three people from his entire school on Facebook. I guess that’s justified. Facebook helps me remember names. But I have one person who I have no clue who she is or how she got on my list of Facebook friends. Mostly I know my Facebook friends okay in real life. But sometimes real life and Facebook get blurred. I sometimes wonder after adding somebody immediately after meeting them what our friendship in real time would have been like if we hadn’t been friends on Facebook. Would I even recognize them if I saw them? Or would I reintroduce myself–as I am sometimes in the habit of doing?

I like best when someone else adds me as their friend. It makes me feel special. I got invited to a party just a while ago! That made me feel really wanted. Of course, it was an invitation to the Barn Dance and was probably sent to everybody in the Navigators group, but still. Some days you just want to be wanted and even a Facebook party invitation makes you feel great.

Maybe I’m sick and that’s why I’m so cold. I definitely look flushed, but my heat is now set to 80 degrees and I’m freezing. I have a thermometer in my health aide kit, but I’m not sure if I want to use it. I can never figure out if I should list myself as a contact when I use supplies. I’m a bit of a hypochondriac (which, by the way, is particular segment of the abdomen in anatomical language.) Actually, I don’t think I’m as much a hypochondriac as I just wish I could have an excuse to get off the merry-go-round for a while and take some real rest. But I’m usually thwarted–until the day comes when I really can’t afford to break down. And then, break down is so much less comfortable than the “tune-up” kind of rest. Break down tends to be miserable, tune up is just peaceful.

I hate nasty notes. I don’t see why people can’t just go to each other nicely and fight out their disagreements like civilized folks. Choose your weapon, ten paces, and all that jazz. Instead they pick at each others’ eyes with anonymous notes of unparalleled venom. People should think before they write. If you want to hurt someone, at least let them know who their enemy is. Anonymous notes are the cowards way out–unless they say something like “I like you a lot and want to marry you someday.” Obviously, when it comes to love, cowardice is a relative term. The tendency of a lover is to foolhardiness, so any reticence is considered sense.

I should go down and write tomorrow’s menu on the board. Yogurt for breakfast. I don’t feel like cooking. I never do after Thursday. I hope that this cooking weariness will go away once I have my own home. If not, that might really stink. Even though I just prepared it despite my lethargy, I still don’t want to eat anything that I myself have cooked by the time Friday rolls around. It’s like my internal clock yells, “Friday night. Go out. Go out. You should not be eating at home. It’s a Friday night. It’s the night you go out. Go out.” And suddenly, Valentino’s across the way starts smelling awfully good–even though I just finished making my favorite egg drop soup. And I start dreaming of Lazlo’s artichoke dip even though I just finished making bread. It had better get better, or else I will be a poor, poor woman. Even with my most frugal cooking, I don’t think any budget can sustain two days of dining out per week “just because I’m tired of cooking.” No siree!

Anyway, sorry again about the rambling. No one should have to put up with that–and hopefully you haven’t–in which case you probably aren’t hearing my apology, having listened to my warning at the beginning. Just a sec. Why am I writing this apology? It’s basically pointless. So, this post wasn’t so much about anyone else. It was an entirely selfish post. It’s cathartic to not organize your thoughts. I didn’t know that until now. But hopefully I can find some other way to do it so I don’t scare my readers away.

Thing I want to put on my website eventually:
–Review of Mere Christianity
–Recipe for Egg Flower Soup
–Ephesians book study–so far, SOOOOOO super good!
–a dictionary of my own personal (marvelous) definitions like worldview: the basic framework of beliefs that defines how a person views the world. That was beautiful–even succinct. (I don’t know that that’s a word that has ever been used in reference to me before.)

Wow! I just don’t know how to shut up, do I? Here I go again. Honestly, forgive the grammar and the writing style and the everything else of this, because it seriously stinks. And if you actually read this entire post, drop me an email at my webmaster account b3master@menterz.com Then I’ll know to give you a cookie for being a true friend–who listens to even the most inane of my ventings.