Spontaneous Girl

Hello blogosphere. Long time no talk. Or, I haven't really talked to you in awhile. You don't really talk back.

Today I would like to introduce you to 'Spontaneous girl'. Do you know her? Maybe. Does she know you? Probably. Will you feel like you know her by the end of this post? For better or for worse, I hope so.

A working definition: Spontaneous girl is a hypothetical college co-ed who is commonly characterized by fun-lovingness, flakiness, finding her identity in randomness, and causing annoyance to her immediate friend group.

(Note to my faithful readers: Spontaneous girl is an idea, not an actual person. If you begin reading this article and start thinking "OMG I totally share like 90% of Spontaneous girl's hobbies / tendencies / psychological make-up" and begin wondering "Is Jordan talking about ME???" then stop thinking and wondering such things. First of all, I'm not observant enough to write a post about one person. Second, you're not important enough to have a whole post devoted to your life.)

Spontaneous girl is, in the initial analysis, perhaps best understood by her facebook profile. After all, she's an avid social networker, and more than a little concerned about her online image. (difference between me and spontaneous girl: both are avid social networkers. But I am not exactly worried / concerned.) Common characteristics include, but are not limited to:
1) More than 65 pictures in her profile picture album.
2) TMI in her personal interests, activities, favorite movies, etc.
3) An 'About Me' section that looks something like this:
'Hey I'm ashley and I'm really fun-loving and I love trying new things!!! I love meeting new people, so if you have any other questions, just ask!!!'
(The exclamation points here are important. I hate unnecessary exclamation points. I don't necessarily hate spontaneous girl, though.)
4) Notes. No one writes notes, except spontaneous girl.

SG's calendar is comprised of numerous lunch dates, trips to the farmer's market or other exclusively organic food sources, and hours devoted to facebook stalking. Spontaneous girl loves the outdoors...or does she? SG leads her extended friend group in number of mid-week "Hey would y'all wanna go hiking this weekend?" ideas. The problem is, if the hiking trip actually happened, she probably didn't go. Secretly, she hates the outdoors as much as the random blonde actress that plays Lindsay Lohan(s) potential step-mom in the Parent Trap remake. (Score. I have now successfully related to my female followers born within 3 years of 1990.)

She's a serial dater, but never a "serious" dater. (i.e. since earning her learner's permit, she hasn't gone more than 3 months without having a boyfriend. But after each break-up: "things weren't really that serious anyways. It's just better if we're friends.") Spontaneous girl is also known to be obsessed with the thought of road trips. Every other weekend, she's "sorta talked to a few girls about just like driving to the beach for the night." If you go to Wake, think random out-of-the-blue trip to Myrtle Beach. Maybe not even spend the night. Just DRIVE THERE, SEE THE OCEAN, and DRIVE BACK. (SG, the ocean might not be there next weekend; you need to make sure it's still there.) Among other things, SG is also the queen of "It just fell through". Weren't you going to the beach this weekend? Yeah, but it fell through. Mountains? It's supposed to rain all day. Cabin? We wanted to save gas money. There's one thing you can always count on with SG: you can't count on her. It's not even necessarily a flaw; it just is. She's always one spontaneous step ahead of you, and there's nothing you can do about it.

I have detected two underlying forces for her spontaniety. The first is FOMO, the fear of missing out. Here's the thing: the grass is ALWAYS greener on the other side of spontaneous girl's social calendar. Her weekend options are filed into "potentially fun", "potentially more fun" and "potentially most fun". Multiple options are the spice of her spontaneous life. By considering all options, maybe she didn't miss out on any of them. What is more, she's sneaky...
Ask spontaneous girl on any given Wednesday what she's doing that weekend. What's that? You're intimidated by her? Okay, I'll ask her, reluctantly...

"SG, how ya doing?"
"HEY JORDAN! (She's overly excited to see me. She can't be THAT excited.) Not much! I just got done getting my hair cut (TMI) and now I'm just meeting some people for lunch." (Is she really meeting people? She didn't mention names. Do I care what she's doing? I asked how she's doing.)
Trying to act interested. "Sounds like fun. Where are y'all going?"
"Oh, we haven't really decided yet." I should have known.
"I gotcha."
"Yeah." Spontaenous girl pauses, waiting for the "weekend" question. I can't help but ask.
"So what are you up to this weekend?"
SG shows a facial expression resembling a child on Christmas morning who acts excited about opening a present she had secretly opened on December 22. She acts like she hasn't even thought about the weekend, that she never thought you'd ask. She has thought about the weekend; she was hoping you would ask.
"You know, I really haven't thought about it! I've talked to some people about going to Zach's cabin, but I'll probably decide something last minute."
What does this even mean? Don't these statements contradict one another? Is it possible to "not think" about a weekend, but "talk to people" about it? Does SG even know Zach? Let us dissect.
SG has been throwing out her lines since Monday morning, in preparation for this weekend. Whatever, whomever, lands the biggest bite / sounds like the "most fun" alternative, she will do this weekend. She has probably already decided her Friday night, and your fate. But SG wants you to think she doesn't care that much about the weekend, that she's secure in "whatver ends up happening", that she'll "hang out with whoever". To plan, but appear not to have planned--that is her formula. She is a living contradiction, a mystery that has haunted my conscience for...minutes.

For whatever reason, SG thrives off of appearing to be random and spontaneous. Why? You tell me.

Other characteristics / FAQs:
'What kind of ice cream does SG order?' Rainbow cream, or rocky road with gummy worms.
'Is she a vegetarian?' Yes.
'Is she obsessed with being a vegetarian?' Yes.
'How many times has she told you about it?' 5-6
'Is she really a vegetarian?' No. She eats at Taco Bell when under the influence.
'What kind of music does she listen to?' Check her facebook. "ALL KINDS!!!" In reality, she listens to 'Chicken fried', Usher, and way too much Justin Beiber.
'Has she read the Twilight series?' She skimmed them, and then saw the movies.
'Physical exercise?' 30 minute run with mini Ipod, followed by swimming.
(Speaking of iPods, she has lost more than two ipods in the last 5 years. Or she has broken them. Her parents continue to buy her new ones. This fuels her spontaneity.)
'Did spontaneous girl exist before today's technology?' Does batman exist without his cape?
'How long has it taken you to come up with spontaneous girl?' Next question.
'Would you date spontaneous girl?' Give me a 6-digit annual salary, and we'll talk.

In closing, I will give a (key word) hypothetical situation that altogether summarizes SG's life:
You are having a party next weekend. I don't care what kind of party it is; use your imagination. You make a facebook event page, to make sure everyone is invited. Most people ignore the event page; they've heard about the party already. Some people RSVP, but this only serves as a rough estimate as to who will actually show up. Spontaneous girl regretfully clicks "not attending". What is more, she is the only one of the 157 people you invited to write on the 'event wall'. She has to make sure everyone knows WHY she won't be there. "Wish I could be there!! Have to pick my brother up from the airport. Ugghh have so much fun though!!" I will not speculate as to whether the other guests are relieved to see that SG will not be attending. What is certain, however, is what ends up happening the night of the party. 45 minutes in, after most of the guests have arrived, Spontaneous girl miraculously shows up. "Oh my gosh Ashley I thought you weren't coming!!" "Yeah I wasn't gonna be able to, but my brother's flight got cancelled!" Likely story. "I'm so glad I could come!" We are to. Spontaneous girl lives to randomly float through another day.

Observations from the Pit...

(If you don't go to Wake Forest, you may want to discontinue reading...or you will be severely confused and bored)

"And here we have the Wake Forest cafeteria, affectionately known as 'the Pit'. And no, it's not called that because the food is bad (jia jia jia)...It's because it's under Reynolda Hall. Our students love the Pit; they really do."
If I had a dollar for every time I've heard a Wake tour guide say this (walking backwards, big purse over shoulder, sunglasses and dress even though it's cloudy and 59...) I'd have enough money to build a rival cafeteria with fast omelet stations and desserts all in one place.
Okay, you caught me, I'm 100 words in and I'm already complaining about the cafeteria. Actually, I did it to prove a point before I get in to the dynamics and logistics of the Pit. Here's the point: students LOVE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT THE PIT. It's probably number 2 most-complained-about thing at Wake Forest, right between how many tests you have this week and how terrible you look in that picture Dean Shore tagged you in from the football game.
But let's get real here...the Pit is to other college cafeterias as America is to all other countries (kidding...sort of).
Without further ado, the observations...
1) The Loser Tables.
There is really only once place where you can consistently go and eat lunch or dinner by yourself on a regular basis and still be cool enough to get a bid from a fraternity or sorority...and that is the loser corner. You already know where it is, but I'll explain anyways. It is dark, it is crowded, and it is in the back corner between the not-so-"Southern Kitchen" and the soft drink station. It is a mecca for those who want to fly solo, but not get Pit take-out. It is a safe haven for those who need a quick meal before they "failll theirrr organniccc chemmmistryyy testttt." Finally, it is a refuge for those who want to check their emails for half an hour and look really busy.
2) Breakfast-
Notice how I said in the last observation that the loser tables only apply to lunch and dinner...breakfast is a whole different ballgame. For breakfast, anything goes. I can go into the pit by myself in the morning, and no one will say a word. Heck, I could fly solo at a high table and no one would notice. Everyone is in their own world for breakfast. They know what they're in the pit to accomplish before their 9 o'clock class, and they do it. Maybe it's a bagel with peanut butter, maybe it's lucky charms, maybe it's "I Can't Believe Those are Eggs!" Whatever it is, it's 8:30, and unless I texted you about meeting me here, don't talk to me and let me be a zombie for 30 minutes before I walk to Greene.
2a.) 8:52 a.m.
This is the most depressing time one can ever experience in the pit. Sometimes, you can become so infatuated with your Smart Start or your breakfast date that you forget that you have class. Then, everyone starts looking at the clock and stampedes to the dish-washing line like the gazelles in the Lion King. From a high table, you can witness the event like you're on top of Pride Rock. It's fascinating, but equally depressing, because the reality of another day of class starts to hit...hard.

3)Table heirarchy (you and I both know it exists)
a) High tables (Okay, sorry I forgot to wear my Tri-Delt jersey...PLEASE let me still sit with you guys! We're still sisters...right??)
b) Booths (not including the booth by the emergency exit door between the months of November-March)
c) Seats next to vegetarian station ("Yeah! I've been a vegetarian for like...ever!" "No way, you NEVER told me.")
d)Long tables by TV / Athlete tables
("Okay, don't look now, but Al-Farouq Aminu just sat 3 seats down from you...He's gonna play in the NBA next year!!! Stop, put your camera phone away, I told you not to look...)
e) Circle tables next to Southern Kitchen- I don't have any clever parenthetical statement for these, maybe because I don't know why they're there.
f) The one table near the front entrance all by itself (Yeah, I mean...I guess we'll sit here. At least we get to talk to everyone that walks in / hope they tell us how tan we look after spring break)
g) Loser Tables- no explanation needed.

4) How to avoid an awkward pit date
Alright, so say some guy (ewww he writes blogs! so weird...) asks you to go to lunch at the pit. You freeze, and don't know what to say. After pulling out your planner, seeing you don't have a good excuse, and suffering a moral dilemma, you reluctantly say yes. But don't worry, the world is not coming to an end...There are numerous ways to say "I'm just not that into you" over a pit meal.
a) Go to the pasta line. This is guaranteed to take 15 minutes, and if you place a special order, you could make it 20 or 25. Leave blogger boy hanging out in the booth, and come back half an hour later and say "Oh my goodness...the pasta line was so long. Sorry."
b) Order an omelet. This is just like pasta, but for when it's a breakfast date...
c) Go to the sandwich line at lunch (10 minutes, 11 if you get it toasted), fix a salad (5 minutes, 7 if it's the best you've ever made), set your food down, and then get back up to fix a drink (2 minutes). At this point, you've already wasted 20 minutes. You can do this. In five minutes, just "remember that you accidentally forgot that you have to meet with a professor like 15 minutes before class starts", and you're golden. Sigh of relief, back to the dorm room, quick text to your girlfriend: "That was SO AWKWARD".
(Disclaimer: I've never heard of this happening, of course.)

5) Employee meetings
These happen around 9-10 am, usually on Friday mornings. Quarterback of the Fresh Food Co. Freshies huddles the team together, giving them the game plan for goodness knows what.
"Mike, showing up 45 minutes late is not acceptable."
"The ginger ale is always out of order. Monica, get on that."
"Guys, I know you don't wanna wash the cups out...but this is getting ridiculous."
"I know it's really easy/tempting to swipe the kids' cards like 9 times...but it's not really fair to their parents--I mean, them."
If you've never witnessed one of these meetings, they're almost as entertaining as puppies on the quad.

Honorable mention (or things I may discuss later, when my follower count actually reaches double digits): to-go boxes, the side entrance, monday night pit (pre- and post- chapter), Saturday morning pit, B.O.B., pit burgers, and "let's see how many middle schoolers we can invite to the pit" day.

Houses Are Biblical Too

As I sit in Bottletree Bakery this morning, at this time of year, I am often reminded of the following quote by C.H. Spurgeon, “"Winter in the soul is by no means a comfortable season, and if it be upon thee just now it will be very painful to thee; but there is comfort, namely, that the Lord makes it. He sends the sharp blasts of adversity to nip the buds of expectations: He scatterth the hoar-frost like ashes over the once verdant meadows of our joy. He casteth forth his ice like morsels freezing the streams of our delight. He does it all; he is the great Winter King, and rules in the realms of frost, and therefore thou canst not murmur. Losses, crosses, heaviness, sickness, poverty, and a thousand other ills, are of the Lord's creating, and come to us with wise design."

I feel that when the weather provides little warmth to the world, the world provides little warmth to our own lives. It is far too easy to fall into a depression, being unproductive and wasting time during these winter months. I am from Mississippi, so I know that those further North know this far better than I. When I fall into these lulls, these depressing times where the hope of good things to come in my life is equivalent to the hope that I won’t have to wear a jacket to class, there are few things that I truly begin to long for that all happen to be rooted in one thing.

If it happens that those thoughts don’t resonate with you, the following will. At the beginning of this year I had a bad a feeling, a pit in the bottom of my stomach. Without fail, every few years there is tragedy that strikes in the lives of those we love. Deaths, sickness, the loss of a job, divorce, or inner turmoil are just a few overarching examples of this tragedy I speak of. There are those times where you can do nothing more than stop and say to yourself, “That is just not right.” When these things happen, there are many emotional remedies we conjure up, but again I would argue they are rooted in one thing.

When winter in the soul and tragedy storm into our lives there is only one thing we want, only one thing we long for. We want to go home.

There is no better feeling than pulling into your driveway after a long trip, a semester at college, or just a rough day. When you walk through those doors, have the smell of your home hit you, and drop your bags to the floor, you can’t help but relax your shoulders and have this peace about you that, “You know, everything is going to be okay.” There are home cooked meals that we long for, not because they are gourmet, five-star meals (though some of us may be so fortunate), but because you break bread with your family and it was produced from ‘your’ kitchen. Nobody makes a better supper than their own mom. There is a sense of love, a sense of vulnerability that comes with being home, and is not present during the tough times mentioned above.

The sense we get when we pull into our driveway is a small, minute feeling of what it will be like when the trump resounds and the Lord descends. And yes, it will be well with our souls. That feeling is Biblical. We all have a longing to go home when times are tough, and even when times are pleasant. Even so, we are hard-wired as Christians to have that same longing, though far greater, for an ultimate home, a heavenly home.

Just as your mother cleans your room for you, does your laundry, and may even have a happy waiting on you when you come home, Jesus is presently preparing our room in heaven for us, waiting for us to join him. Though this is not just a room. It is a mansion in our Father’s house. No that is not a typo: a mansion within a house. I think this is also why we all love it when somebody plans something for us, we don’t know what it is, and they toy with our sanity by saying, “I promise you will like it, I just can’t tell you.” Once that happens, our thoughts are consumed with what it could be, what it might be, and if this person might be. This sense of wonder produced by somebody else’s preparation of something for us is fascinating enough to think about for a long time, and let’s press on.

Often times I fantasize over my ‘dream home’. I know exactly what I want it to look like. Tall ceilings, hardwood floors, wraparound porch, back patio, and a lofted study are just a few of these things that I dub as ‘essentials’ or things that are ‘perfect’, in my mind, for my house (I know I am speaking vaguely, but am practicing Proverbs 4:23 by doing so). Houses are Biblical because I believe that God is preparing a perfect house for us all, a place for us to dwell and worship him. I love thinking about my ‘dream home’. For one, I am selfish like that, and two because I know that when I get to heaven that there will be something even more perfect there, and I will be like “Gah, that is right, that's perfect.” The creator who created me, knows me perfectly, is preparing a place, a ‘dream home’ of sorts, for me in heaven. That is exciting.

Different rooms in houses are simply different experiences in our lives that we get to explore, enjoy, rearrange, and dwell in. The rooms contribute to the house at large, add character, add smaller stories contributing to the larger story, and each have their respective function. This is applicable to our lives in so many ways.

I could go on forever, and I have details about why I think all of this is the case, and how it applies to our lives. I feel like I could write a book about this. I have only shared all the details of this with a number of people that I can count on one hand. There is a method to the madness of my mind. I have more, much more. If you were to put a cup of coffee in front of me and ask me about it sometime, you might regret doing so; I think about this a lot. The Bible is filled to the brim with images and themes surrounding and built upon houses.

I say all this in encouragement. It is okay to want to go home; in fact it is Biblical. The places in this world that we go to and know that everything is going to be all right, the places where we can let our guard down, the places we have this euphoric emotion about us when we are in route to them, are our homes, our earthly homes, our homes away from home (Alpine, Oxford, Chattanooga, 2206 North Cheryl Drive). The funny thing is, that one day they just may be our heavenly homes as well, once Christ comes and perfects his creation. There is something great about that, and something to take heart in.

Why Breakfast is Biblical

There is something biblical about breakfast.

All throughout the Bible, people are getting up early. And I assume they were eventually eating.

No, the scriptures do not say that "In the morning, Jesus went up on a mountain to Waffle House" or that the apostle Paul--despite his interest in athletics--enjoyed a Denny's Grand Slam. But the fact remains, they were getting up early, they were praying and starting the day, and at some point, they got hungry (even Christ, because he was fully human) and they had breakfast.

On Sundays, I go to church at 5 o'clock. This is not ideal; I would rather go at 9:30. But it is what is is, and I must deal with the unconventionality. Thus, the productivity, restfulness, and set-apart-ness of my Sundays largely depends on whether I get up for breakfast. On days that I do not, I don't wake up until 10 or 11. Sunday is restful, but in the wrong way. My day becomes unstructured, and somewhat stressful. Because there is no routine, my mind is constantly fixed on what I would like to do, and my Sundays quickly become personal days.

On those Sundays that I get up for breakfast, things become more 'right'. My day starts off with that simple discipline that is waking up on time, and the rest of my day falls into rest and routine. The more 'routined' it becomes, the less I am mindful of myself, and the more I am reminded of what the Sabbath is all about.

How does breakfast make our lives so full? What makes it so biblical?

First of all, it is so very simple. Think about the things we eat for breakfast.... We eat eggs, we eat bacon; we eat sausage, we eat cereal. While the preparation of breakfast may vary slightly, the items of breakfast do not. It is constant; you know what you are getting. You do not send the bacon back to the kitchen to be cooked longer. You accept it as it is. It gives us predictability in an unpredictable world, and it reflects the constancy of Christ.

Furthermore, meals in general are biblical. Over the last year, I have been struck with how many meals Jesus has in the scriptures-- how much the gospel writers emphasize Christ sharing the table with sinners. There is something beautiful about sharing a meal with another human before you both go out into a messed-up world, to be able to share quietude and coffee before the day and its business begin.

This last thing may just be me--perhaps some of you out there in the blogosphere can relate-- but breakfast lets me know that everything will be okay. Have you ever awoke in the morning, post-alarm and pre-shower, and felt very cold and very alone? Days where the sole goal quickly becomes the pillow that night? I have many of those days, especially this time of year. The shower helps somewhat, but breakfast returns things to normalcy. It makes me recall the night and the days before, and it reminds me of where I am going. The Bible helps more, but breakfast points me in the right direction.

People, especially my age, love spontaneity. College, best four years of my life, yada yada. And I love it too. But I also love normalcy, and I crave routine. Maybe it is my own insecurity; I'll be the first to admit that that could be the case.

I also admit that my days often pass by wastefully. I do not do as T.S. Eliot wrote, when he said we are to "Redeem the time". Eliot got that catchy line from the apostle Paul. Paul had breakfast. I need breakfast too.

Perspective, small things, and the Lord of the Rings

"Do you remember the Shire, Mr. Frodo? It'll be spring soon. And the orchards will be in blossom. And the birds will be nesting in the hazel thicket. And they'll be sowing the summer barley in the lower fields... and eating the first of the strawberries with cream. Do you remember the taste of strawberries?"

-J.R.R. Tolkien

It is cold, it is rainy, and for the last week and a half I have done little but study. It is incredible how human beings get in ruts. Have you ever gotten in your car, made a phone call the whole drive, and arrive at your destination not remembering anything you passed? The weeks leading up to the holidays are like that in college. All the days blend together; one afternoon turns into the next morning. Then, one morning, it ends, and you don't seem to know how you got there.

I think I know how we get there.

"There are two ways of getting home; and one of them is to stay there. The other is to walk round the whole world till we come back to the same place." -G.K. Chesterton

During exams, I have sporadically watched the Lord of the Rings movies to maintain my sanity. To remind myself that what I am doing is not that important...or maybe that it makes all the difference in the world. I remember someone telling me (the Bible probably told him...) that we grow in the small things-- the decision not to complain, the extra hour of studying, perhaps actually being engaged in a conversation. As a type-A, Wake Forest college student, sometimes I feel like I have to change the world. 4.0, honor roll, destroy the ring. But what strikes me about the Lord of the Rings--about Frodo and Sam--is the small things that slowly get them up the mountain. Until we realize that the journey is long, and also that we will get there, we will miss the small things.

If you get on youtube, you can watch countless videos where people have taken clips of Frodo and Sam and turned them into male lovers. It's repulsive, and it's sad. Instead of experiencing real, intimate friendship, people watch these things and laugh, because they would rather sit in their offices taking breaks to check their fantasy football leagues and laugh at videos that will not outlast this world.

"I'm glad to be with you, Sam...here at the end of all things."

Friendship is a small thing.

When we get focused on a deadline, the world ends at that point. Everything, literally everything, leads up to and is centered around the deadline. Any thought of what's on the other side, well, that can't even be comprehended. It's a shameful thought. Lazy. "Don't think about the other side, Jordan. If you do, you'll never finish the race." If I don't think about the other side I'll never even start.

"Remember the shire."

Perspective is a small thing.

In the first LOTR, representatives of every race of Middle Earth meet in Rivendell to decide the fate of the ring. The dwarf argues with the elf, the men can't put aside their differences, and the small, insignificant Frodo Baggins looks into the ring, the symbol of all that is evil and perilous in his world, and decides that he will bear it. At first, no one even pays attention. At the end of the trilogy, the race of men will bow down to him.

"4 Hobbits?"

Hobbits are small things.

Amongst the fire and ash of Mount Doom, Sam-- that beautiful, fat, redemptive hobbit that has helped carry the burden of Middle Earth--cannot stop thinking about the Shire. Strawberries, the hazel thicket, springtime, Rosie Cotton--the hobbit he would like to marry if he ever gets back. In fact, these hopes--small as they are-- are the only thing that keeps him going up the mountainside.

"Do you remember the taste of strawberries?"

Hope can be a small thing.

Before Frodo's journey ever begins, the ring stays in the Shire for over 60 years, out of the attention and sight of evil. No one would ever expect such power to be in such a small place. 3000 years after Sauron creates the ring, it will soon fall into the cracks of the earth and Frodo will say, "It is done, Sam."

"We are lucky the Shire has been overlooked."

Hobbiton was a small place. So was Nazareth.

The next time I think there is no horizon beyond my next deadline, I hope to remember these small things. My work is in some way the most important thing in the world, for through it, I will grow. But in other ways it is just another step in the journey. What is certain is that I will get there.

Sam married Rosie Cotton.

Call It a Bucket List

I am becoming more and more convinced that daydreaming is a telling thing in regard to where we are at certain points in our lives. I would go further; on second though, I will- our imagination and this idea of “things hoped for” is hard wired in our DNA. We are hope-based, unrealistic creatures. I am okay with that, and not worried; I like it. The reason I make this incoherent and borderline absurd claim is that today I had a day that most college students have semi-regularly. I was ready to pack it up and take it to the house. I am weary from the semester. It has been an incredible one with a few really fine things happening to this fortunate soul, but school might be the end of me. I sat at a window of the J.D. Williams library (Yes, Doug Williams’ Flash Rave location. I know you all were wondering about that) and stared out the window because Bon Iver and Physics don’t go well together. Bon Iver and daydreaming do. My mind wanders all the time. I have a lot of ridiculous ideas that I will never have the balls to actually pursue. I am scatter brained and discontent; my mind wanders to places to that are far from what my life entails presently in the blessed place of Oxford, MS,- especially today.

If I would just man up and “honor my wild” (Carver Morgan I hope you are reading this. And hell no that is not a John Eldridge reference) these are the places that I would go not just in the future, but right now.

Welcome to my world

1. “Cowboy Up”

If I were half the man Peter Hurt is and had half the girls drooling in a line for me, I would be pretty content, I’d say. I would love to head to Colorado, work on a ranch. Maybe do some farming, maybe hog tie a goat or two (no, not a camper), or maybe just live out there and look like I did all the above. There is something refreshing, manly, and straight up American about working on a dude ranch and appropriately wearing denim and not showering twice a day. Yeah…I would love to be a cowboy/farmer.

2. “I’m on a Boat”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f3iFovzaDzg

While the above experience with T-Pain would be comical, I was thinking of a more isolated setting. Virgin Islands, live off the water, have a tan to the point to wear my skin is like leather, do a deck a day, and be by myself. I would take a journal, a record player, some divinely inspired book that fundamentalists read, and probably my chacos. I think it would be awesome to sail solo and enjoy the peace and quiet of that part of the world for several months. I might just disappear.

3. “This is not Outback Steakhouse”

Can we at least all agree on something? I am not clever or witty or indie- all the above I wish I was. Glad we got that straight. I want to have an Australian accent, dreads would be cool for a few months, I would love a pet kangaroo, I would love to be able to throw a boomerang, and the Australian Outback is near the top of my bucket list. Yeah, Australia. I would head over to New Zealand and have my own version of “Where the Wild Things Are” and “Lord of the Rings”. I gave that a trial run this past summer and I think some people referred to it as Sumner Camp? I guess it’s just one of those things.

4. “Sigur Ros”

Top 3 most religious experiences of my life is sitting through and being captivated by Sigur Ros’ documentary “Heima”. It is unreal. I have never seen such, and it is worth every second you put into it. I want to go to Iceland. Maybe I just want to get away into the mountains. That is what it is sounding like. I love everything about every type and kind of transition….

5. “The Mountain”

The ‘Pine is the greatest place on earth. When I think of Heaven, I think of Little River running through a piece of property that has three neighborhoods nestled in it, and is overrun by mini me’s in the summertime. It was the best thing that has ever happened to me. I want to go back. I wanted to go back badly this afternoon. I want to go back right now. I need Old Row. I need the dangle do. I need cross fit. I need porch time. I need community. I need the Alpine political and social gossip. I need a challenge. I need to be humbled. I need Jesus.

Daydreaming is powerful. Hoping for things is refreshing. The imagination is one of the best things that our creator gave to us. Maybe there is a purpose in school- to bring these things to the forefront of our minds. Hebrews 11:1. Frat. Herbody. See you all on the other side.

vinyl tickles my fancy, music tickles my soul

Little ridges are the music. a needle bobs up and down, plodding methodically along the grooves like a desert man riding his camel. camels have humps like a record. they also have ears, like me, the listener.

As I sit here in my burgundy, second-hand armchair I contemplate the invention of this record-playing technology. who was the first to hone in on this method of recording sound? Wikipedia would tell me that Thomas Edison was the first man to develop a sound device that could record and playback the music. it was called the phonograph. he patented the mechanism in 1878.

A lightbulb just popped up above my head. Edison invented the light bulb. the light bulb above the head is also a common illustration of a blooming idea. the idea is this:

Edison may have invented the phonograph, but he did not invent the music.

Why are we as humans (I will speak for myself, why am I) so fascinated, drawn toward, moved by music? sound waves tickle the tiny hairs of our inner ears and we feel an emotion. what a profound experience.

The title of this little rumination addresses my bias: vinyl kicks digital music in the rear end, hard. not only do the notes seem that much crisper, but the music has life to it, as though the Fleet Foxes are actually performing inside my speakers; little people harmonizing inside a wooden box. all of these melodies fill my 8x6 dorm room with the force of a tsunami and a speeding bullet train multiplied together. ok I exaggerated a bit, the room is 8x7.

Regardless, music makes me happy. it makes me sad. the fact that sounds so intricately formed together make me do anything is remarkable. music is the sign of something bigger than man and his fundamental limitations. of this, I am convinced