Put Simply.

In honor of Dan Cathy's... let's say "strong"...statements, this is what I have to say to people against gay marriage:

Not even the chocolate kind

This summer I'm interning for the Corporate Communications team at Turner Broadcasting. It's very neat. I get to work in the CNN Center and do the behind-the-scenes work for the internal and external Turner websites.

So I'm learning a ton of new things. Mostly how to master all things Adobe (Dreamweaver, Photoshop, Illustrator), but also some life lessons.

As a precursor, I really like this internship. Mostly because they let me learn whatever I want in my free time and they encourage me to seek out anything I'm interested in. But in an effort to translate the general experience of this internship, I offer you this metaphor that I have come to quote painfully often:

There was a guy who wanted to be a master chef. So he went to apprentice in some great kitchen where he could practice his wonderful chef skills. The head chef told him that he had to thinly slice hundreds of potatoes into very skinny wafers. The man spent days and days slicing the potatoes just so, and when the head chef saw that he had finished, he threw all the potato slices in the trash.

The apprentice asked why he would do that when he had spent days slicing them perfectly. And the head chef said, "Because you'll actually be slicing these," presenting him with truffles (you know, the really expensive ones that pigs dig up).

And so, if you're catching my drift, I've been slicing potatoes. But hey, I'm learning how to slice correctly, and I intend to be the best slicer ever by the time I'm handed truffles.

Marshmallow Bob Day

In honor of Father's Day, I've been thinking of lessons that I've learned from my own Bob. Here is a small sample:

Fifteen minutes early is on time. On time is late.

Rude birthday/father's day/sympathy cards are acceptable, and even encouraged.

Prioritize your spending. Just because someone LOOKS like they have more money than you, doesn't mean they do.

Knowledge is like a river, the deeper is runs the quieter it gets.

Passing gas/burping doesn't necessarily have to be blamed on the dog, but it does have to be followed up by stating, "Mommy taught me."

An 85 is good if the class average was a 70.

If someone has a higher position than you or more authority than you, it still doesn't make them right.

"Because I said so" is not an acceptable answer. For anything, from anyone.

Get a degree.

If you want some food, get ready to throw some elbows for it.

You don't have to grow up.

Being able to sit on the beach in a chair reading a good book all day is worth the terrible tan lines.

Travel and see for yourself.

If you're old enough to shave your legs, you're old enough to mow the lawn.


Happy Father's day to the best Bob around!

Love Lotion #9

I have the mother of all papers due on Friday.

As I sit here, pouring over New York Times articles and deciphering my own notes from interviews, I realize that I have been neglecting the most important journalistic endeavor of all time.

Duffluff.

Last year around this time I wrote about a great quote from a great woman.

"Being in love is being late to work."

Said by my much loved, three time religion/women studies professor, mentor, and grad school recommender, Wanda Wilcox.

This follow up post will be two fold.

One: a story about this wonderful professor.

It is my last semester in college and quite naturally my advisor misadvised me, so that while I thought I was done with all religion classes last May, I actually have to take three this semester to fulfill the major.

It is rare in this major that the majority of a class is the seminary-bound, Christian type. May seem contradictory, but it's just not how religion majors are.

The typical religion major can be found with unwashed, longer hair, worn jeans with one leg rolled up (cause he rode his bike to class...obvi), thick rimmed glasses, and a cigarette outside of Peabody Hall. Most likely chatting up and challenging one of his professors, who is also indulging in a cigarette.

I, on the other hand, wear sorority t-shirts, a long pony tail, and the Nike shorts that solidify my position as a white girl from Alpharetta. This is neither here nor there.

Point of that was- I'm in TWO classes this semester that are majority Christians. This is rare, people. Very rare. The classes happened to be titled "Gospel of John" and "Modern Christian Theology." Interesting that they wouldn't want to learn about other religions to expand their knowledge and open their minds, but I digress.

My other class, with my favorite teacher? "Feminist Spirituality."

Can you guess what people are like in that class?

Anyway, we didn't have class last week because Wilcox was sick. Yesterday in class, there was an accident.

As Wilcox taught, she took a step towards her podium. Picture a "where I place my music while I attempt to play notes on my trumpet in 4th grade" podium, not a sturdy podium, made of wood or any other reliable substance.

In a moment of expression, Wilcox went to lean her elbows on the podium, sending the thing crashing to the ground, scattering books, binders, and pride. It remained on the ground, in two pieces, for a moment until Wilcox sighed and said, "Y'all are gonna have to excuse me, I'm high on cough syrup today. It said no heavy machinery but I guess they should have included podiums."

Thus solidifying her as STILL my favorite.


Two: rewriting the Wilcox quote.

My wonderful, beautiful, successful sisters traveled down from North Carolina this past weekend to visit with me and see where I've been living for four years.





Ashley is highly allergic to poison ivy. She is the girl who somehow got it in her eye in the 5th grade and came down the stairs the next morning with her eyes swollen shut.

Well, wouldn't you know it, she got it again. As smart as that woman is, she isn't always the quickest learner. A week after the actual contact with the ivy, Ashley rolled into Athens with arms and legs covered in welts and calamine lotion.

Luckily the lotion was clear, so it didn't look like dried Pepto Bismol, but when it dried it did look like her skin was flaking off. Unfortunately, her sisters aren't the most compassionate or medically inclined people ever, so she did all the rubbing and such while we gave disapproving looks and told her it smelled.

During the week prior that she was home, however, her husband helped. While my sister was in pain, itching and squirming, darling Hunter took care of her. Now normal "taking care" coming from me would include a pat on the back and an offer to go get ice cream together.

Hunter went above and beyond.

Truly encompassing "in sickness and in health," Hunter not only lotioned and then hairdryer-ed Ashley, he also gave her an oatmeal bath to soothe her.

And so, in honor of my favorite brother-in-law on this Valentine's Day, I am rewriting Wanda Wilcox's quote.

"Being in love is giving them an oatmeal bath."

Even this.

When I graduated high school my aunt gave me a book called "Leaves of Gold." It's a compilation of poems and quotes organized into feelings (i.e. love, tradgedy, hope). In this book I found my all-time favorite poem. It's no Shakespeare and it won't make your head spin trying to figure it out, but it's my fave. So I thought I'd share.

Even This Shall Pass Away

Once in Persia reigned a king,
Who upon his signet ring
Graved a maxim true and wise,
Which, if held before his eyes,
Gave him counsel at a glance
Fit for every change and chance.
Solemn words, and these are they,
“ Even this shall pass away.”

Trains of camels through the sand
Brought him gems from Samarcand;
Fleets of galleys through the seas
Brought him pearls to match with these;
But he counted not his gain
Treasures of the mine or main;
“ What is wealth?” the king would say;
“Even this shall pass away.”

'Mid the revels of his court,
At the zenith of his sport,
When the palms of all his guests
Burned with clapping at his jests,
He, amid his figs and wine,
Cried, “O loving friends of mine;
Pleasures come, but not to stay,
'Even this shall pass away.”

Lady, fairest ever seen,
Was the bride he crowned his queen.
Pillowed on his marriage bed,
Softly to his soul he said:
“Though no bridegroom ever pressed
Fairer bosom to his breast,
Mortal flesh must come to clay
Even this shall pass away.”

Fighting on a furious field,
Once a javelin pierced his shield;
Soldiers, with a loud lament,
Bore him bleeding to his tent.
Groaning from his tortured side,
“ Pain is hard to bear,” he cried;
“ But with patience, day by day,
Even this shall pass away.”

Towering in the public square,
Twenty cubits in the air,
Rose his statue, carved in stone.
Then the king, disguised, unknown,
Stood before his sculptured name,
Musing meekly: “What is fame?
Fame is but a slow decay,
Even this shall pass away.”

Struck with palsy, sore and old,
Waiting at the Gates of Gold,
Said he with his dying breath,
“ Life is done, but what is Death?”
Then, in answer to the king,
Fell a sunbeam on his ring,
Showing by a heavenly ray,
“ Even this shall pass away.”

- Theodore Tilton

Have a little faith

My aunt forwarded this to me today and I thought it was worthy of the blog. Remember to count your blessings especially when things get really sucky.

God is a Rule-breaker

Over the past few years my cousin has had two beautiful baby boys and is soon expecting a little girl. The oldest boy is 3 and is definitely in the stage where he wants to know everything. So my cousin, Betsy, sends out emails to our family to let us know what her little boy is curious about. Now I'm pretty much just going to copy and paste the email. I usually wouldn't try to steal her thunder but this is just too good not to post. So here are the words, directly from Betsy's keyboard, for your amusement:

JH's Theology Question of the Day:

JH: Mommy, did God die?
Me: No, JH, God's always alive.
JH: Then why did go to Heaven?
Me: Well, that's just one of the places God is and lives. (We've previously discussed how God is everywhere.)
JH: But, you have to die to go to Heaven.
Me: That's true, unless you're God.

Another conversation:

JH: Does God have one arm or two?
Me: We don't really know, but I like to think of God as having two arms.
JH: Does God have one leg or two legs?
Me: I guess he might have two. (Me thinking - how many one-legged things have you seen, child?)
JH: Well, I think God just has wings because he has to fly all over Heaven.

Good call, kiddo. You might just have something there.

JH also thinks it's great that everything poops. It's great that he poops and it's great that everything else poops: anything from dragonflies to wombats (and this literally keeps him awake at night). And, no, I'm not at all sure how God poops - but John would like to know.

Those who look for beauty, find it.

I’m opening an article at work with a quote about beauty and it got me thinking about beauty. Yea, I know it’s cliché, but it’s fun to ponder things like truth and love and beauty when you have a second. So what is it? What makes things beautiful or not? And to whom? Everyone’s seen those couples where you think “guess there’s someone out there for everyone.” And most people who have ever witnessed modern art wonder who wasted so much wall space on something so ridiculous/ strange/ simple/ obnoxious/ WEIRD.

I don't know the answers to any of these questions, by the way. But rhetorical questions are a writers best friend, right? Anyways, in my search for quotes on beauty I found these. And since everyone loves a good uplifting quote or two I thought I’d share.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
-Maryanne Williamson

Beauty is not caused. It is.
-Emily Dickinson

Beauty is the shadow of God on the universe.
-Gabriela Mistral

Keep your faith in all beautiful things; in the sun when it is hidden, in the Spring when it is gone.
-Roy R. Gilson


And on a lighter note (so this isn’t ALL super transcendentalist):

I'm tired of all this nonsense about beauty being only skin-deep. That's deep enough. What do you want - an adorable pancreas?
-Jean Kerr

Kids Say the Darndest Things

I'm sure alot of people have seen this before but I just rediscovered it and still think it's one of the greatest quote compilations ever.

http://www.1funny.com/kidslove.shtml

It's a list of quotes about love and marriage taken from kids ages 4-10.
Here are some of my favorites if you don't feel like reading them all:


"Once I'm done with kindergarten, I'm going to find me a wife!" -Bert, 5

"Love is the most important thing in the world, but baseball is pretty goodtoo." -Greg, age 8

"Tell your wife that she looks pretty even if she looks like a truck." Ricky, age 10

My Debbie Side

So every once in a while things just seem to fall out from under you and it's hard to grasp on to anything. Boyfriend joins the National Guard, UGA professor goes on a killing spree, still have no idea what I'm doing with my life, CEOs are committing suicide, finals are next week, economy sucks hardcore. So here are some of my favorite quotes that are fun to ponder and help get me through:

"Find the joy in your life." - The Bucket List

"Even this shall pass away." - Leaves of Gold

"For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope." -Jeremiah 29:11

"When you remember who you are and whose you are you can stand against anything." -Dr.Shelnutt



Stick in there, yall.