Monday, May 2, 2011

Happy - part 6

Happy happy happy!  Unprecedented happiness.  I'm not high, I'm not in love, I'm just happy.  It happened again today.  It's almost like when I crossed the threshold saying the Jesus Prayer those two times.  I've wondered and wondered about this, why it's been happening, and I think it's because I've been in Communion.  It's like being in love, or high on the best opiate.  Is this what it feels like to ride the coattails of God?

It's not consistent, but neither have I been with Communion.  But this is happening, I think, as a direct result of prayer and Communion, and involvement with the Church.  I have no excuse to ever be sad or self pitying or angry again.  It can be like this all the time, not just at work.  I've wondered why it's just at work that I feel like this... and I think it's because of all the people I see every day.  Fr. Justin said to be a ministry at work.  I think God is helping me to do that.  When I'm happy at work, everybody around me is happy.  I see the positive effect on people.  They smile, they talk to me, they laugh, they say I'm silly and funny.  It's just the best thing in the world.  I could be in prison, or on the street, or sick in bed with terminal cancer and I would only feel pure joy.

I hope I become worthy one day so that I can share this with someone; a wife, and a family.  And if I don't ever find anyone, I'll share it with everybody.

I'm so happy.  There's nothing like the sight of a gaggle of foonting turlingdromes, corkscrewing a swath of decimation through their natural habitat, the sublimating butter gardens of the Cydonian Bubble Flats.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Stained glass sketches by Roger McIntosh

My friend Julie gave me some original stained glass art that has been in her family for a long time.  Roger McIntosh is the artist, and his stained glass appears in lots of churches throughout Texas.  One of his pieces decorates a window at the SMU.  I didn't know how valuable these sketches are until just a few minutes ago.  Apparently they're worth hundreds of dollars each.  I'm stunned by her generosity.  These compositions are nearly a hundred years old.  One is signed R D McIntosh, designer, 1919.  And she just gave them to me.  Just gave them to me.  I had it in my mind to give one to someone close to me, and now it makes it mean even more that I should give one of these away as a gift, knowing how... just singularly unique and valuable they are.  I'm just bowled over and wow'd and kind of feel a little bit as if I've been poleaxed.

It's funny how you never know what's going to happen next in life... the next day, or the next week, or the next year.  There's always something interesting in store, some little thing or big thing that happens.  Events which transpire that come right out of the blue.  Sometimes they're ugly things, and sometimes they're surprising things... but sometimes they are little wondrous things.  And they all spill out at me constantly, and I can count on nothing to be what I expected. 

Cake Wrecks

My new favorite blog:

Cake Wrecks

And is it a coincidence that my dad forwarded  me this picture of a cake that a friend of his got for her birthday?

Now, granted, this is supposed to be the Millenium Falcon from Star Wars, and I have to admit, it does sort of resemble it.  However, this looks more like clunky robot version.  The forward nacelles look sort of kind of like legs, the cockpit resembles a giant fist, and that part between the 'nacelles'... the safest thing I can come up with to compare that to is mechanical underoos.

How much harder would have been, what with all of the work and detail that obviously went into this cake, to make it look like the actual ship instead of some kind of Hasbro/Kenner mutation?

I hammered out this Photoshop edit in about 5 minutes.  It's sloppy, but heck, it still looks more like the Millenium Falcon than that cake.


Pick-up lines

Yesterday at the Jazz Fest I had decided to do something I've never done before... try some pick-up lines on women.  Here are the ones I decided on, in order of their deployment:

"Hey, I'm writing a telephone book... may I have your number please?"
"This isn't a beer belly, it's a high performance fuel tank."
"You should be someone's wife." 
"I once knew a squirrel named Marvin.  Man oh man are you hot.  Marvin is in Africa now."
"Hi. Are you cute?"
"What the hell are you looking at?"

I realize now, after the fact, that somehow I got less and less witty the more beer I drank.  I thought it was supposed to be the other way around?