emotions and feelings are so weird. really. how they can grip your psyche and move you at the slightest remembrance of something that was once important to you. the worst, i think, is how the past is so clever at influencing the now. sometimes when i am in a reflective mood and i think that i am alone with my thoughts i will discover that i am instead alone with thoughts that i had quite some time ago. regurgitated like the past meal of some animal with multiple stomachs (cow, camel, goat? all ugly animals). good or bad thoughts or feelings or premonitions, it makes no difference. i just want to have todays instead.

how do you live in the now? how do you completely erase the might-have-beens and the did-not-really-ever-happens from the dusty (or not so dusty) archives of your memory? how do you focus instead on what could be or should be or even what might be done with the innumerable hours and minutes and seconds that seem to be approaching at an
ever-increasing rate.

there are days when i wish that i had the plans for what my life is supposed to be. detailed ones, with a dull blue background and sharp white lines and lots of superfluous notes put on for show by an overzealous architect. instead i can't even figure out what is inside me, never mind pretending to have some idea of how i fit into the world. just vague wants and goals and (worst of all) feelings. some days i would trade in the adventure for the answer book. and on those days it seems that simply breathing in and out and in and out and ... is all that can be done. at least that isn't so bad.

the worst journal entries are the ones that are filled with questions. better to write them and get them organized and out than to think them over and over when i should be doing dishes, though. : - ). to the dishes.

thus spoke cap'n hook to his young nemesis peter pan. captian hook is not the sort of pirate that i would wish to be like. far too many frills, like his mother had made his costume for him. how lame. that's about as cool as your mom decorating your skateboard. or getting your home ec teacher to stitch the anarchy symbol on your canvas backpack. and c'mon, making enemies with the boy who never gets old? that's just foolish. well, to be fair, i guess i understand how he could see some brat flying around in green tights and talking in a squeaky voice as annoying. hrm. hard to say. i guess it's one of those things that can only be decided when you're in the situation.

anyhow. i brought up the dying thing only to talk about where i went yesterday. yesterday i went with my very kinesiologically astute friend pam j and her younger siblings to body worlds 2 (dum dum dum). essentially it is naked dead people. however, the vast majority of them don't have skin, which makes it somewhat easier to take. it was fascinating. the human body is incredible. i used to doubt that lever2000 commercial (a type of soap) about washing your body's two thousand parts... but now i believe.

it is so amazing the way that the different systems in our body are packed so compactly and function so well together. there were definitely parts that were sort of creepy, though - bodies and muscles in unnatural postures to show a particular organ or body part better. i was sort of shocked at the little kids that some people were bringing. right near the end of the exhibit i was sitting down and these two little boys (7ish?) were asking their mom if they could finally leave (in a way that made it obvious that they were incredibly grossed out). then one kid says to the other, 'you don't have to look at them anymore,' and he proceeds to try and make his way out of the exhibit with his hands over his eyes. funny.

so, torontonians. you have like 2 days to see it before it leaves. though, i guess if you miss it you could always drive to philidelphia, though, or, fly to germany. gunther, who discovered the method (plastination) is german. weird that you would call it plastination. that makes me think of playdough. definitely not in the same realm. my discovery of the night? your colon and your large intestine are really the same thing. aren't you glad? one less bodypart to worry about. i wonder if they factored that in in the soap commercial calculations.

are you aware that some people have blogs (i don't like that word when i have to type it and yet i cannot think of anything else that can replace it. argh.) that are only about revealing their deepest darkest secrets to the internet? it is true. this has not really been one of them. not until this very moment. i am only revealing this personal ugliness to you because i don't know what else to do. i have no one else to go to. only you, internet friends. i am not going to beat around the bush any longerm here goes:

the more that i watch 'everybody loves raymond' the more i want to watch. there are two seasons on dvd here, and it is on every channel at least twice every day. ARGH. his insipid suburban comedy is so mindnumbingly addictive. its like those valentines candies. what do they put in those?!? what?!? whatever it is, i am CERTAIN that it is a banned substance. bet you can't eat just fifty. they're so small and red. everytime i eat one i think 'blech, i hate these'. and yet, the next time i go near the little bowl i find myself reaching out again. and again. and again. is it the manageably tasty size? the shape? (is my subconscious telling me something?). they (those evil red candy makers / marketers / resellers) must be paying somebody (or somebodies) off big time to keep them on the market every year. back to raymond. why why why do i like them so much. i laugh out loud at least four times every single episode. that robert is so foolish to leave amy, why didn't deborah hold out for someone smarter than ray? how much needling can the old lady take before she poisons here obnoxious husband? (and why didn't she do it fifteen years ago?!?!). these are the questions that keep me awake at night. i love it, and i hate myself for loving it. sigh. prime time.

the t******s are gone for the week. they left us 18 cans of old south orange juice. the blood that is coursing through my veins is probably more orange than blue now.

it has been quite some time since i wrote anything substantive on this thing (in this thing? to this thing? after doing this on and off for three years i am still not really sure how you are supposed to talk about blog interaction). and it is not that i haven't tried. i've started at least four different ones that weren't really fit to finish. incomplete thoughts seem to be more the rule than the exception lately.

as i type this i am watching 'the matrix' with becky. it is hard to watch this neo-gothic [grin] cinematic marvel without wishing that i had a long black leather trench coat and the ability to bend and stretch physical reality at whim - maybe some day (though i'm not terribly attached to the trench coat). it has been quite some time since i watched it. this movie is brilliant - the story so well formed, the imagery so well crafted. i love the themes it explores, the real world beneath the world we're in, the faith needed to understand, see, experience this new world, hope embodied in a prophesied individual. a complicated parable, but one that i appreciate, for sure.

i have read a few books that do the same thing, make it easy to imagine fantastic things. but lately i have been reading a collection of sermons by francis buechner called 'telling the truth: the gospel as tragedy, comedy, and fairy-tale'. i love the way buechner puts things, explains how he sees what it means. i think he may be my new favourite. n.t. is giving him a run for his money, though, we'll see.

i am glad to be here, to have this time to let my thoughts percolate. i will try to write something worthwhile next time. : - ).

watch the superbowl commercials. (especially the beer ads and the ones with the monkeys).