i feel like some mean bully has shoved playdough into my brain when i was asleep, and now my brain is overheating and it is melting out through my nose. i hate cold season. hate. i am really quite bad with saying 'hate' (which is quite a strong word) when i really mean dislike, but i think it's justified in this instance. ugh. sickness.

i wish that you could fight sickness in some physical way. overdosing on vitamin c is not enough. i wish the cold virus would manifest itself in the form of one of those blowup clowns that you punch to the ground and then bounce back at you. then i could beat the living daylights out of the stupid cold virus. no - i could beat the snot out of it. that would it least give you some pleasure. though, i guess, it would be kind of gross if the blowup clown looked sickly and was covered in mucus like the cold virus.

feeling sick robs you of all the small pleasures you take for granted. like breathing through your nose. who really notices breathing through your nose? that nose breathing goes highly unnoticed is a scientific fact. very few people notice nose breathing until it is no longer a viable option for them.

your not even special when you get a cold. i mean, for goodness sake, it's called the common cold. so people don't even feel sorry for you. unlike, if you were to have, say, a 3 alpha methylcrotonyl-Coa carboxylase 1 deficiency.

ranting about how much i hate being sick is not helping nearly as much as i was hoping. i am going to sleep.

also, speaking of viruses, if you feel like losing a few hours of your life to a flash game, try flow.

the foundation of my childhood was built of lego. read the story. see the pictures. so cool. i wonder if pam's dad can teach me to make legos (he makes industrial molds of some sort). here's hoping.

(in the words of the one and only cheryl ames).

today, a song to listen to. Indestructable Sam. if only i had that work ethic (!).

my favourite place to go in charlottetown is victoria park. it is a park (surprise) by the water. i especially like to visit it on a rainy day. i drive my car there to this one particular parking lot that is very close to the water. then i shut off the engine and listen to the rain. or read or think or write letters. when it rains hard (like today) water droplets take over the windshield and it turns the view from the drivers seat into a sort of impressionist's cinemascope. it's like looking at a monet except that the painting's in motion, with the waves thrashing about in frothy whiteness but filtering out the sharp lines of the troughs and crests, or observing the brief glint of the light from the lighthouses across the bay spread dimly over the surrounding grey day. i am not particularly afraid, lonely, or unhappy, but this quote i just read in chasing francis seems quite fitting:

"The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature." - Anne Frank.

I have been listening to bill bryson's "a walk in the woods" audio tape
for the last few days while driving around. It's hilarious. It is his
recounting of a journey walking the appalachian trial in the north
eastern united states. so, you should check it out.

other recent good books include velvet elvis by rob bell and the
irresistible revolution by shane claiborne.

danC

last night i had a dream.

it is very rare that i remember my dreams.

i was hanging out with my grandma C, and then, for some reason we were in an arena filled with balloons. we bought a few fat ones. my grandma then decided she wanted to travel into space with the balloons. i found this peculiar, but how can you say no to your grandma? so, i held on to the balloons and she held on to me and we started going up. it was, truth be told, pretty rad. we passed through this weird balloon-o-sphere layer where balloons were suspended, fluttering around but not really going any place. i started to get nervous because i knew we were going to run out of air when we we reached space. my grandmother remained unconcerned. i started to chicken out, and let go of some of the balloons to slow our ascent but i let go of too many and we started to fall really fast. then we fell through the balloon-o-sphere and i managed to grab enough to slow our descent. we fell into the ocean, but were close to land so we survived. we even made the television news.

what does it all mean?

oh william, you slay me. seriously, you need to make your way to your
nearest public library and pick up some bill bryson. audiobook,
large-print, whatever they have. i finished listening to the walk in
the woods book, and now i'm reading his book about his travels in
europe. reminds me of good times and fatty belgian foods. ah.

on the island there are many stop signs where there should be yield
signs. instead of petitioning their city councillors to right these
traffic wrongs islanders simply choose to treat them like yield signs
(a prime example: where st.peter's road hits the bypass). i have chosen
to follow suit - it's a great time friends.

also, i have been reading a book called Chasing Francis today. very
good.

dan out

this job is really nice in that it allows me to have a lot of
flexibility. i have been volunteering at a dropin two days a week here
in charlottetown. it is a very interesting place and i think it is
really helping me get a better understanding of the world. there are
some people who look so broken and lonely. or whose lives seem to
repeat like a broken record. or who hold onto secret hurts for long
periods of time. it can be very sad.

every morning that i'm there we do a bible reading. have a discussion
and read a short passage. those are among the most hopeful and hallowed
times of my week. people who need God crying out to him and wrestling
with what it means to follow him in the midst of a tempting and
tortuous world. i really appreciate the fellow who leads it as well -
for his ability to connect with them, really truly encourage them - and
his ability to make the words on the page of the bible so alive in that
context. so alive.

i like the people too. there is this one really big guy. i have not
really met him yet. but there is something about him, i don't know what
it is. but i can't help thinking this thought every time i see him - he
looks like a muppet. a particular muppet, one that i can't remember.
and he has this sort of gruff look on his face. it's impossible not to
grin inwardly every time he walks in or i see him. i also have some
good talks with some of the people there. today i watched a sleeping
baby for his dad for a little while, washed a few dishes, stood
outside in the cold and talked about sudbury, and learned how to play
crib (i suck. i was completely destroyed. the fellow i was playing felt
sorry for beating me so bad and decided to donate most of the points on
his last hand to me so that i'd get past the 'skunked' line).

dc out

the sermon went ok. the part that i really wanted to say well, the part
about not loving the world, i felt that i jumbled. other than that i
was happy about how things went. i need to learn to stop stuttering.

now - a nap.

my car fixed itself as i drove home. now it just has that low rumbly sound. i don't mind that one at all. it just makes it sound hungry. hungry - good. old and sickly - bad.

(terrible, horrible, no good, very bad). well, that is probably an overstatement. but i feel pretty stressed out. or tossed up or jumbled or what have you. i like giving sermons when i have prepared for them well. i like to share the things that excite me about God's message of freedom and love and the kingdom of his rule intersecting our lives in the here and now. i have to (get to?) speak in church tomorrow and i have to do youth group tonight, and sunday school tomorrow morning, and college & careers tomorrow night. and i feel as though i do not have very much to say at any of those places.

and now my car sounds like it is gasping for air. it sounds like it would if you took a wheezy old man and tapped quickly on his windpipe as he was breathing. maybe it is gasping for air, trying desperately to hold to its existence. you can do it german hatchback - hold on!! i wish that i knew more about cars.

it sucks trying to write a sermon when you don't feel like you are doing a good job at life. like, when you don't feel close to the Almighty, and feel like you should be doing everything you are doing better than you are doing it. help. i am glad that i don't serve the "send money and i'll think about it" god of the televangelists but the forgiving god of muderous adulterous kings who waits to listen for our cries for help. i used to think that i wasn't a feeler, used to fashion myself as a cool-hearted considerer of the cosmic balance. but it is a lie i am a feeler. my seemingly (seemingly to my former self, that is) detatched sarcastic outward demeanor is really tethered to an emotional sack of gooey feelingness adrift on the tumultuous sea of daily experience. hah.

rambling over and out.

i don't know if the churches you have been to were like this. i have been to a few that had this very strange operating principle. at the end of the talk or message, or whaddeveryacallit, oftentimes the minister or pastor or speaker or whomeveryoucallthem prays. and what i find disturbing is that often during this prayer the members of the 'worship team' will sneak up to the front and pick up their instruments silently, preparing to strike up a song within the tenth-of-a-second window between the moment the prayer is ended and the moment people's longing looks towards the door translate into physical movement. what gets me, though, is how they do it so silently. are they training to be ninjas? it's just creepy. maybe i'm thinking about this too much.

-dC