Wikipedia offered this definition for a “merry-go-round” that made my day, particularly because I worked with Kindergartners today [emphasis mine]:
“In a playground, a merry-go-round is usually a simple, child-powered rotating platform with bars or handles to which children can cling while riding.”
I recently bought Sufjan Steven’s Christmas Album and just laughed out loud when I noticed the title of the thirty-third song on the album:
“Get Behind Me, Santa”
HAHAHAHAHAHA! And a good song to boot!
A couple of days ago I finished the the last book of the Bean Series that all began with Ender’s Game. The highlights for me were Ender’s Game, Speaker For the Dead, and Ender’s Shadow, the first three I read of the eight book complete set. They were wonderful. Even Xenocide was pretty good, but some of the dialogue in the later books was nearly unbearable, trite. I have read and finished worse books, but like The Matrix, my expectations were set high. Still, I had invested in these characters and I wanted to know. So I finished (apparently there will be more, and I will, undoubtedly, read them) and one of the main things I gleaned from the last few month’s reading, a theme repeated in most of the Bean series, which I learned from Ender’s Game, is this: Love your enemy, so that you may destroy him completely.
…That’s in the Bible, isn’t it?
William R. Newell wrote these words of truth:
Grace, once bestowed, is not withdrawn: for God knew all the human exigencies beforehand: His action was independent of them, not dependent upon them.
To believe, and to consent to be loved while unworthy, is the great secret.
To refuse to make resolutions and vows; for that is to trust in the flesh.
To expect to be blessed, though realizing more and more lack of worth.
To rely on Gods chastening (child training) hand as a mark of His kindness.
To hope to be better (hence acceptable) is to fail to see yourself in Christ only.
To be disappointed with yourself is to have believed in yourself.
To be discouraged is unbelief — as to Gods purpose and plan of blessing for you.
To be proud, is to be blind! For we have no standing before God, in ourselves.
The lack of Divine blessing, therefore, comes from unbelief, and not from failure of devotion.
To preach devotion first, and blessing second, is to reverse Gods order, and preach law, not grace. The Law made mans blessing depend on devotion; Grace confers undeserved, unconditional blessing: our devotion may follow, but does not always do so — in proper measure.
A trick question on my lips,
give me five bucks and I’ll take the loss.
Thirty’ll get the tail to bite the head.
So when I lie I don’t care if it doesn’t make sense;
it’s not for her anyway.
Tits got more per gurney sway!
She’s old. I know.
One hundred and twenty.
Ninety-seven.
And I am imposing, never played a record.
That’s a lie, I played “My Ding-a-ling,”
I played happy meal prizes.
I’ve folded around dogs.
Her secret message scared me.
I’m a scaredy-cat.
I get scared.
I’m feeling very well scared right now.
I’m too shallow for her dives.
But I want to tie her hair to mine,
to make a rainbow with our vapour.
To swing her son and read the paper.
Eins twine! I’m no genius,
only yellow-turn-brown.
Fly my kite!
Bake my pie!
Turn me ’round and
tell me what not!
I not
that
man,
man.
By request, I will be posting upcoming local performances with a little blurb on my role in the show and where and when it is. Here’s the next:
Choreographer’s Evening: November 25th 7 PM & 9:30 PM at the Walker Arts Center
– I have an eight minute piece I made this summer in this show where I explored the Trinity and the idea of perichoresis.
I responded to a Craigslist personal ad last night. The girl had written something that I have felt like writing: a list of repulsive traits. It was fun and sardonic. I responded in kind:
Hi, I am really nice! You found me!!!
I live with my mom AND her latest boyfriend AND her farm of gerbils.
I drool… and not just when I sleep.
My cat’s tongue is my alarm clock and my shower.
I have long, wiry black hair; none on my head. My four-year-old daughter braids it.
I’m missing an eyetooth, but I eat so much cheese nobody ever notices.
I don’t poop. Weekly enema .
I channel the ancient god, Zaranthrachumwamza. On Fridays, after my ritual television karaoke performances of “Saved By The Bell”, we usually wind up at the KFC dinner buffet.
I *heart* S.C.U.B.A..
Most people think I’m a woman.
I am a woman….er…. was a woman. Scars. Still. Healing.
I really, really like cakes! My dream is to someday find a file, or chisel, in one of them and escape from this godforsaken hellhole!
I knit to redirect my chronic rage.
I’m a protestant Catholic with Islamic sympathies, but I attend Wiccan services every full moon.
I touched Hulk Hogan once.
I bake.
I am a pyromaniac.
I love to sit in my car outside local high schools.
I don’t drive. My mom takes me to my appointments.
I know what your thinking? No, really! Because I’m psychic!
You should hear my rhythm and rhymes! Confession: beat-box fanatic!
Phobias: mirrors, chihuahuas, and blind people.
I have LOTS and LOTS of girlfriends!
I love you,
Bruno
She did respond. Not going to work, but it fulfilled an urge I’ve had for a while.
…and how do I commemorate/christen the event? I walk to the Ace Hardware store down the street to buy a roll of Scott tissue paper, bring it home (yes, a word with new meaning for me), and, with gusto and a twinkle in my eye, mark my territory. I own this square footage.
Five- hundred and fifty. It sounds bigger when I write it out. It is small, but when you’re not a giant you need not a giant’s space. More efficient. I think short people will be the way of the future.
Anyway, here are some photos from the MLS site. Some are not of my specific unit, but you’ll get the idea.
So, new address:
1821 1st Avenue South #306
Minneapolis, MN 55403
The second thing I did to celebrate my new home was the laundry. Goodbye laundromats! Yippy-kai-yay!