Ennui.

Watch. Laugh. Repeat.

 

I first time I watched poor Henri contemplate his existential angst, I laughed so hard I cried.

My new toy

My birthday present came early today.

No, it's not a pony. (Although that'd be awesome.)
No, it's not a monkey. (Although last year I did research if I could rent one for my 30th birthday. Verdict: They're too expensive.)
And no, it's not (another) puppy. (I promised my mother that four-legged animals wouldn't outnumber the two-legged ones in my house, so I have to get a live-in boyfriend before I can get another canine friend. I expect to be waiting a while.)

So what is this birthday bit of awesomeness?

Behold!

For the record, my birthday is still five weeks away. But the birthday fairy (ie: the parental units), thought it'd be nice to have this fancy-pants gadget when I run the Country Music Half Marathon in holy shit less than three weeks. This means that once I can can figure the damn thing out, I'll be able to use it during my runs this weekend, including my last/further training run of the season on Sunday. (11 miles. Oh, sweet Christ.)

As a run-walker who does 4/2 intervals, I've spent the past year+ using a patchwork of iPhone apps on my runs. One app gives me my intervals, another plays music and then I use Nike+ to track my distances and read me my pace every mile or so. The system has worked OK for now, but it also means I have to carry my phone in my fuel belt, which gets crowded on long runs with the accompanying ShotBloks, chapstick, inhaler, snot sock (in the winter), Body Glide (in the summer), water bottle, and emergency cash I sometimes remember to carry. Once I feel comfortable enough with the gadget, I can swap out the iPhone for my iPod nano and I should (knock on wood) be good to go.

Somebody I used to know

Holy shit, this song is gorgeous. The lyrics almost make me wish I was nursing a break up. (Yes, I typed that.)



Enjoy.

Easter inspiration and an in-process theology

From today's Easter Sunday sermon, which quoted theologian Clarence Jordan:

“The proof that God raised Jesus from the dead is not the empty tomb, but the full hearts of his transformed disciples. The crowning evidence that he lives is not a vacant grave, but a spirit-filled fellowship; not a rolled-away stone, but a carried-away church.”

I'm an ordained deacon at my church, but I'll be the first to tell people that there are days when I'm more agnostic than not. My faith journey is something I usually struggle to articulate -- and I admit I have far more questions than answers about my own beliefs and spirituality. But sometimes there are those great eureka moments where you feel like something you read or hear or think about ... just clicks. I love those moments (fleeting and rare as they are) and I felt fortunate to have one this morning when I listened to Jordan's quote. 

I know there are a lot people who believe that the Bible is inerrant. I respect those who do, but I'm not one of them. I believe the Bible is a living, breathing document and its pages have been compiled, rewritten, debated, translated, mistranslated, retold, argued, compressed, omitted and transcribed. (And that's just part of it.) I believe it's a book of metaphor, poetry, symbolism, tradition, story, history, mystery, frustration, inspiration ... well, you get the point. (I should stop before I sound too much like Rob Bell.)

What I love about this quote is that it shows that it's not really a question about whether you literally believe the Easter story as a verbatim, factual account of a series of events that happened roughly 1,980-something years ago. Instead, Easter is about everything that happened in the days, weeks, months and years after. And it's about everything that's still happening today. 

Believe what you want. Create your own theology. Find your own metaphor in the texts of a pretty magnificent story. See it as allegory, fiction or fact. But as I celebrate Easter, I find it hard to argue that a pretty powerful seed was planted in our history, and it's still bearing fruit today. 

P.S. Fun fact about Jordan... he's considered the spiritual founder of Habitat for Humanity. The more you know.

New header

Apropos of nothing, I decided to play around with a new header for the blog. I'm torn on whether it's perfectly me or perfectly a 15-year-old. There's an above-average chance that it's somehow both. (Reader users, click over to check it out.)