hypocritepoet

rambling

The water's running. Need to remember to turn it off so I don't flood the yard. The yard. Esh. I never did get momentum to turn it into anything other than a haven for weeds.

Headaches back this morning. Water. Need water. High quality H20.

Ants are back too. Defeated in the kitchen. Defeated in the living room. Defeated in the bathroom. Defeated in the studios.

Now... the art room. Zero chemicals... just takes time. Need to plan for the spring. Maybe borax/sugar traps outside.

Maybe move away from hell.

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Meeting last night. Eeesh. Part of it was my dark mood. But a bigger part was the teaching. I just tell myself, 'I chose this' and laugh. What's strange is, I aren't rilly wehry'd abert me. It's everyone else. My friends. Then again, maybe they're fine and i'm just insane.

Uh. don't like that word. It's almost a curse word. Unsettled? Imbalanced? Nuts?

Maybe I'm just not thinking positively enough. Getting ready for art shows is always stressful and physically demanding. Ng cut the end of her finger off yesterday trimming a print.

“Should I go get it sutured?”

I laughed. I've cut the ends or side of my own digits off a dozen times over the years. Sometimes cleanly, once or twice like a badger chewed on it. And I suppose a surgeon could sew that flap back on. But what they'd more likely do is trim off the flap and bandage it.

I never bothered with the hospital. I just bandage it up and nurse it until the wound closes or the flap breaks free.

That which does not kill you, teaches you to be more careful with an x-acto blade.

At least it was sharp.

Bad news from the mechanic on Van. Looks like I'll be replacing that fuel pump myself. No way I'm shelling out more than my parents paid for their first home for a six hour job. Sheesh.

How come everyone in the universe is quadrupling their prices while my clients are asking me to lower mine?

Money. a satanic construct to allow the powerful to manipulate the stupid.

Interesting conversation last night about Rebekah (from the Bible). Genesis 24:1-67 is her account.

I love how she introduces herself when asked “who are you?”

“I am the daughter of Bethuel the son of Milcah, whom she bore to Nahor.”

Mom and grandparents, that's who I am. Smart. For a young woman who hasn't yet made a name for herself, but also establishes 'i've got people'. So not just social, there's some security as well.

Prosaically it's nice too: sort of archaic as opposed to way we speak now, 'Oh, hi, I'm Jack.'

In the account, she's praised for her hardworking-ness, her beauty and her obedience to God.

From modern eyes, it's a weird account. She's basically sold into a marriage. Which is kind of distasteful from our western POV. Where's the romance? Where's the falling in love? The 'I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.'?

Things were different.

I'm sure good parents would love to have a say in choosing a mate for their children. Rebekah's dad, we will find out later, was a bit of a scoundrel when it came to marrying off Rebekah's younger sisters.

It was a good study of the material. but the crowd just wasn't there. There were HUGE opportunities to discuss the importance and power of cooperation and respect. But mostly, we just talked about watering camels.

Yes, yes, it's an interesting point that she hauled up a couple of hundred gallons of water. She was clearly a very hard-working young woman.

But her willingness to follow what appeared to be God's direction was way more impressive. To leave her family and comfort (well, relative comfort) and join a whole new team... impressive.

And it worked out well. But she couldn't have known that.

Except that it was God's will.

Sometimes that's easy. Do God's will and it will work out.

Sometimes... it would be easier to walk over molten glass.

Sometimes you feel like Sisyphus.

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But Rebekah. She was a swell gal. She respected others. If there's currency, real currency... it's respect and love.

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Slept well. Unsettling dreams. Someone was angry at me and someone else chased. Someone was calling me a psycho.

Don't like this format of oldest posts at the end of the blog. A lot of unnecessary clicking to get to the end of the line. I was going to abandon this and move my energy else where. But I need somehere I can just blah blah blah and then pull from this for more sanitized presentation.

Let's switch back.

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Maybe bring back the diary format. What the hell. Why not.

The world is a big place. Wherever you are, dear reader, hope your day is filled with joy and gladness. Even if the sun isn't quite as bright as it could be, you can always find happiness in your heart.

Like Joe Dirt says, “you can't have no in your heart.”

I better get to work. I could sit here all day long rambling away.

But you know? this helps. talking to you. I was pretty dour an hour ago... now? Feeling positively springy... sometimes you just got to exorcise a little.

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