Posts from — October 2006

“Hey, you, there’s music in the air. You can be all you ever wanted in a dream” -theme song for Thumbsucker. A great movie. Song is stuck in my head.

In my dream, I am a highly published freelance writer who owns a home with her working husband and three children that we delivered via Stork, and there are 48 hours in a day and little need for sleep. I have a personal fitness trainer, holistic doctor, gourmet chef, massage therapist, and house cleaner. And lots of coffee, snow, and lavender. And no XBOX. Oh, and I can sing like Nicole Nordeman.

Dream on!

So please comment: what are you in your dreams?

Trailer for Thumbsucker, if your interested.

Tonight I’m all about black coffee, as I awoke about 12:30 in the afternoon today and our AC is frozen up. So at the moment I am hot and sleepy and my left eye won’t stop twitching.

On a different note, reflect on this: the Greek root of “to believe” means “to give one’s heart to”. That sure puts a different connotation in the mind with regards to words like “belief”, “religion” and “faith”. To believe is not like joining a political party or taking a pledge, its about the heart, and more specifically, the giving of the heart over to what it is, or WHO, the belief is in.

The tricky thing is that I give my heart over to all sorts of things. In the last week I have given my heart to: money (or lack thereof), my home, the idea of acceptance, new clothes, my son, my husband, my writing, my TV shows, and the list continues. See, just because I wasn’t giving my heart to Jesus doesn’t mean my heart wasn’t being given. That’s impossible. Even if you aren’t giving your heart outwardly to others or to God, you are in reality just devoting your heart to yourself – your career, your car, your looks, whatever it might be.

So how do I give my heart to God? How do I continue to place my desires, my devotion, my fears and limitations, and my genuine belief in His hands? It could quite possibly be as simple as talking to Him about it. Novel idea, huh?

So with that, I need to say farewell, because this mama needs some time to give her heart away to the right Thing before getting to “work” for the night, black coffee in tow.

Um. Second confession.

Notice the time this is posted. Yeah, its like an all time record. I’m a writing junkie. Check me into rehab.

Who wants to place bets on whether or not I’ll be in church in 5 hours!

Must I remind you that LOST season premiere airs Wed. 9 eastern on ABC. Countdown: 3 days, 20 hours, 20 minutes.

Who you callin’ fanatic?

I’ve been on a movie binge, in particular an independent, artsy fartsy movie binge. Highly recommend: Everything is Illuminated and Thumbsucker. Oh my gosh -a lot.

Also, I think that every week it would be healthy for all involved, (you, me, and everyone we know- ewwww, an allusion to another movie I’ve heard is goooood), if I were to confess something which most of you do not know.

Today, it is that I sit, (my workspace cramped -lovingly- along the wall at the foot of my bed, on an old writers desk where I do the bulk of my freelancing and blogging), on a broken chair.

I’ve given it some thought and I don’t know why I don’t just go get another chair, except that the only other chairs in the house small like this one are on the porch with the kitties and have lots of mildew. The one that currently holds my tush is a small wooden chair, faded red paint, wicker seat.The problem is that you never know when it will give out on you, as many of the horizontal spokes are displaced. Three or four times a night I fall over, and occassionally I take the time to hammer all the pieces back together with my palms as a temporary fix.

But please do not buy me another chair, because a little teetering chair suits me right now. Yeah, it might be inconvenient, reek of poverty, a little mildewy, and of course, broken.

But I can live with that.