Forget deer, I'v started for the squirles.

The hunt continues. You know what I don't understand? How a young man with a tie, 90 percent of a degree, and a smile can't get a job in this town. Now if you know me, you know I can be picky. I gave up on picky a week and a half ago!

I have put in resumes at malls, stores, restaurants, temp agencies, gas stations (I told you I stopped being picky) I know there's got to be something semi-respectable I can do to make money from now until September.

I realized in this area (notice the shift from town to area) unless you have someone on the inside its difficult. Being gone for 2 years doesn't help, I don't even know people, who know people on the inside.

Lord help me.
j.

Who Knew?...

...I didn't know it all
A few years have come and gone since I made my way into the north country for the first time as a prospective student. in the spring of 2002 I came a prospective student. I thought I knew a lot about a lot; and one thing I "knew" was that people who spoke in tongues were "of the devil" as my denominational history dictated.

Until, one day in a practice room at crane school of music, I heard it. For the first time that thing which I had been told for so long was demonic was coming out of the mouth a bubbly girl with tight red curls. She certainly didn't look demonic, or even sound it. Now don't get me wrong it was all I could to do not to leave, or cover her mouth with my ignorant hand.

Today that girl with the tight red curls left, baby in hand, for California. No more scuffing floors while trying to get the worship team to keep time. (it took a while but I figured it had something to do with the tambourine in the front row) No more melancholy quiet times in the music room (although those have been gone for some time).

Who knew that the girl I wanted to smack and tell to knock off that ridiculous jibber jabber, would teach me about worship, administration, and arrangement.

Who knew that they best lyrics when you can't or don't want to use your own come out of the Psalms. (I"m up to three or so)

Who knew that the girl with the thatchy, bamboo, hippie flip flops worn thin from "foreign soil" and walks in Ives Park would be very much a big sister and teach me I only know some about a little.

Re-"tire"-ment

So last Saturday my roommate (jamie) talks me into going hiking...at eight in the morning.
Thats when we left, I won't even tell you what time the alarm went off. We loaded up, met some other people, and headed for the Adirondacks.
At some point along the way I noticed my car was pulling more than normal to the right. Unfortunately the road to Lake Placid is "metropolosly challenged" (to be politically correct).
I ignored it and continued on my 8am way. Then, I noticed that every time I made a right turn my car sounded like a chase scene from THE FAST and THE FURIOUS. rrrrrrrrrrrrt skeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech etc.
Finally I hear the gentle tick tick tap tap outside the window. I turn down my radio which is on NPR (yes lore' NPR) for a closer listen. "YEP its definitely low" jamie says as he stretches his neck out the window.

"Wait" he says, "the ticking stopped"
"really' I reply, "maybe it fixed it sel__...Pssssssssssssssssssha...never mind"

Let me just say this was no little hole, you could fit a baby in there. And just a mile outside of the next town to. So, one donut, 2 hours, and a decent some of money later all was well and we were on our way up the mountain.
Maybe I should hang up my hiking boots, It's more expensive than I remember.

j.