A dream - demon hoard

I was at church, and it was Christmas.  I was supposed to be singing in the choir, but I was in bed sick.  I was so tired.  I was lying on my right side, and I saw Fr. Justin reading Gospels.  The church was very brightly lit, all white inside, and beautiful.  I almost cried.  I turned onto my left side and saw the choir, singing.  I felt ashamed that I wasn't able to get out of bed and help, and I closed my eyes and listened.

After that we were all sitting and eating like we do after the liturgy.  I stood up and declared loudly, "I have to go home!"  I made to leave, and several people urged me to stay.  "It's Christmas," I said, "and I haven't even seen my family.  I have to go."  I departed reluctantly.

On the way home I cut across a parking lot.  A marching band was marching through, part of a Christmas parade.  I ran quickly between the ranks and almost knocked down a trombone player.  I had to get home.  I came to a steep ravine that I had to climb.  I climbed it with difficulty, and finally reached the top, only to find that I was at the bottom again.  I climbed up again, and the same thing happened... I wound up at the bottom.  I started climbing again, and I was suddenly lifted up by a kindly, generic looking young man.  I was alarmed and struggled a bit, and he said, "It's ok, I just want to help you."  He put me down halfway up the ravine, and I started to climb again.  When I was almost to the top, I couldn't climb the rest of the way, and he lifted me again.  The very top of the ravine was the roof of a house, and he started to deposit me onto it.  I protested and struggled again.  I was terrified of being set down on the roof.  He set me down on the ground and I was finally at the top of the ravine.  I started running again.

It had gotten dark.  I had to get home quickly, because I knew that a demon was waiting out in the field.  It's name was the Starflyer, and the name filled me with terror.  I had three blue candles... I had to get home and light them, they were the only thing that could stop it.  Something about the ritual, some holy quality to it, would stop the Starflyer.  I got home and set up the candles on the back porch.  Through the screen I could see far away, across the field, three red glowing eyes, arranged like a pyramid, staring at me, surrounded by blackness.  I quickly set up the candles... they were wet.  I tried to light them, and they were difficult to get going.  I finally got all of them lit, and I shouted, "There, I did it!  Go away!  Leave, you can't be here!"  The glowing red eyes didn't leave, and structure began to form around them in the blackness.  More red eyes appeared, hundreds, smaller and dimmer, all around the first three.  Silver webs connected them, which shined and seemed to flicker in and out of existence.  Then I saw a hoard approaching, running, coming forward.  Running towards the house.  Demons dressed in plate mail with square iron masks with no eye holes that covered the entire head.  Thousands of them, coming for me.  I didn't understand.  I heard them outside and ran to the back door and locked it.  Their voices were a quiet constant babble that didn't make any sense.  The door knob rattled and the lock began to turn.  I held the knob and the lock tightly.  I could see through the windows that the hoard was everywhere, streaming around the house like a flood of water, everywhere, millions and billions of them, covering the Earth.  I ran to the front door and bolted outside.  I was caught up in the stream of them and carried along.

Later everything was gray and there was no color in the world, and I was walking through desolate and deserted city streets.  I didn't see any demons, but I knew they were still here somewhere.  Someone was walking with me.  He was dressed in rags and bandages, and he said to me, "If you want to live through this, you'll have to wait it out in a cell, with the others."

Tomorrow

It's funny how things change.  A little over a year ago, I was unemployed, confined to my room or the living room couch, spending all of my time either watching movies on my computer or sleeping.  My brother was the definition of purposeful activity... he was in grad school, had a job at the university teaching; always busy, providing.  He would come home to me either tucked away in my room or curled up on the couch, and he would fume.  A few times he exploded at me out of frustration.  It was a bad time.

Now the roles are reversed.  Matt is in his room 24/7.  He's not working, he dropped out of grad school, and I'm the busy one, the provider.  I paid all of the rent this month, barely.  I'll have to pay it again.  I know I won't have enough.  It'll get paid though.  We're lucky to have lenient landlords. 

I don't mind.  His not working or doing anything doesn't bother me like it did him.  We may have to go without electricity in the dead heat of the summer though.  Still... what's so bad about that?  Suffering is good for humility.

Right now we both have shelter, electricity, internet, and food.  Tomorrow will worry about itself.

The only thing I really ever worry about is... I don't know.  The day after tomorrow I guess.

Introductions

They like me, they think I'm cute
Those little girlies, those little girlies.
They came into the store today,
And they said to me, "What's your name?"
To which I said, "My name is Elias,"
Then they introduced themselves to me.
One was Kelly, the other Tracy,
Those little cuties, those little cuties.
Then they said, "We see you walking, all the time, all the time."
I said "Yeah, I walk a lot, I like to read, I like to read."
Then they said that they talk about me,
All the time, all the time.
"But don't worry, nothing bad.  Always good, always good!"
They said the next time they saw me walking,
"We'll scream your name, yeah, we'll scream your name!"
I said the next time that I'm out walking,
"I'll scream right back, yeah I'll scream right back!"

A fairy tale

Once upon a time a guy and a girl met, and they became connected with love.  However, neither of them really knew what to do with the wonderful thing they had, and so they made mistakes.  Over time the connection began to knot and fray... it eventually manifested as disinterested apathy for one, and selfish obsession for the other.  Instead of providing a passage for understanding and truth to flow between the two, the connection had become a conduit for pain and selfishness which flowed back and forth between them.  Eventually the connection began to twist, and the twisting hurt.  When they each tried to pull away from the pain, the connection which had began as love started to stretch.  Finally, the stress was too much and it broke in two.  After it broke and they weren't connected anymore, they both kind of just faded away from each others view. 

However, what had broken wasn't the original love which had connected the two.  It was an ugly, frayed and knotted rope which could only bind, restrict, and tighten.  But it couldn't do that anymore, not ever again.  When the big bad broke, it turned to dust and blew away.  Just like in a fairy tale.

And somebody, somewhere, lived happily ever after.



THE END.

Come on, Steve.

There is no heaven; it is a fairy story.

I'm baffled.  Stephen, how could you?

Hi-jinks and shenanigans at church this morning

This morning I got up early and went to church for the 7:00 am liturgy.  There were only three people there besides myself and Ben, so it was a small affair.  I read the Hours, Ben read the Epistles, and we both sang the liturgy together.  I, of course, started the service off with a nice, big SPLAT as I began to read the Hours before Fr. Justin had said the first prayer.  Intent on yammering my fool head off, I got about as far as "Holy God, Holy -" when I heard Fr. Justin go "TSSST TSSST TSSST!" from the altar... oops.  Hey, I'm still an infant when it comes to churchly and spiritual matters, mmmk?  Anywho.

After that, Ben and I sang the liturgy, with Fr. Justin starting us off and guiding us every now and then when we bumbled and flubbled.  Actually, I was surprised and pleased at how smoothly everything went... right up until communion, that is.  Ben went to assist Fr. Justin when we began the communion hymn, and as I stood there singing 'Receive the BOOOOOOODY of CHRIIIIIIST...", all by myself and in my own little world, I suddenly saw Fr. Justin gesticulating in my direction.  It took about three seconds for my brain to engage the clutch and to switch gears, at which point I realized that he wanted me to hop up there onto the uh... manoualia?  Is that the right word?  ...that little raised platform in front of the altar, to help Ben hold the communion cloth.  So, hoppeth up there I did, and while Dave and Sam and Louise took communion, I took one end of the communion cloth and stood there, holding it.  I didn't do anything else with it until Fr. Justin indicated that I should actually hold it up close to the communicant so that it would catch any stray drops that tried to escape.  At one point I almost pulled it out of Ben's hands, I think.

Anywho, after a very short while, it was my turn to receive communion.  Being at an odd angle, and trying to hold the cloth under my chin while taking a big bite of Mystery at the same time, I promptly knocked the Body of Christ off of the spoon and onto the communion cloth as I was trying to slurp it into my mouth.  Oops, again.  It seemed to me that Fr. Justin exhaled slowly as he dug around with the spoon in the folds of the cloth for the wayward Bread.  As he was trying to retreive it, I thought to myself... "Self, Fr. Justin is gonna have to burn that cloth now, all because you have clumsy lips."  After what seemed like an interminably long period, but which was probably just a few seconds, Fr. Justin retreived the Bread and we finally got the thing down my gullet without further incident.

Tidbits

Before work:

I scheduled a confession with my priest this afternoon before work.  All through it, thunder was booming and lightning was flashing, accentuating the sins which I uttered, as if I were receiving admonishment from God.  Afterward I walked back home in torrential rain.

Things that happened at work:

A couple walked in.  The guy said to the girl, "Why are you being so argumentative today?"  The girl replied, "Because you're always wrong."  Brittney commented, "The typical dynamic between men and women."

A customer approached my counter with an old, dusty gas can.  She asked me if I could open it for her.  I did, and a spider immediately JUMPED out and rapelled down to the floor on a string of silk, then vanished underneath the counter.  I can imagine its relief to be out of that smelly gas can.

I had eyes rolled at me by a flamboyantly gay man because I wasn't able to read his mind when he presented me with 21 dollars, declaring "I want a dollar fifty!"  In gas, apparently, after my psychic abilities kicked in.

I invented a new taquito today... the floppy tortilla flavored taquito.  Great for fast days.  I can't wait to present my new product to Chiy.

I also learned from Brittney that getting angry is ubiquitous among all human beings, and that I'm not defective.

After work:

As I said

This morning I watched The Iron Giant, a fun movie.  I've seen it several times.  This time, however, there was a long stretch of the movie that I didn't remember ever seeing before.  I thought that maybe I'd downloaded a 'directors cut' or something, but they don't just cut scenes from animated movies.  They either animate them, or they don't, because it's expensive to animate 15 minutes worth of movie and then just cut it.  It just doesn't happen like that.  Deleted scenes of animated movies consist of storyboards, not fully fleshed out animation.  And they're in the 'special features' section, not in the movie proper.

Oh well.  Maybe I've got a brain tumor.

Freestyling

Tonight Brittney played some more of her music for me.  She was rapping, and it sounded good.  I thought to myself, self, you may not be able to sing worth a damn, but I bet you could rap.  So I said to Brittney, "I bet I could rap!"  Brittney said that she was freestyling on that song, and I thought... hmmm.  Self, I bet you could could freestyle too.  So I said, "I bet I could freestyle too!"

So Brittney loaded up some Slim Shady on YouTube without the vocals, and here's what I freestyled:

"If you're bored with Star Wars, I'll bore a hole like a mole in your head till you're dead, then I'll steal your Keds and make treads so fast my shift is red, like the expanding universe, my verse will curse your purse strings, all your bling gone from being to not being, while I sing my account goes ka-ching, you feel the sting 'cause I'm king of the rhyming, double timing like a pod racer, I'll chase her with fur 'cause she's PETA, she don't like meata so I'll beat 'er with a tortilla, then I'll say 'see ya' and take off like a boss in my hyperdrive hoss, I live my life by the coin toss!"

Uh huh.  Yeah.  That's right.

My continuing descent into madness

One day, long after I'm dead of course, someone will run across this journal in some online repository and recognize it as pure genius and mourn over the fact that I never finished my astronaut novel.  This blog will be published posthumously in book form, and trillions of people across the galaxy will know the life story of the brilliant unsung hero of his time who went batshit insane.  Therefore, I feel that it is important to document these episodes, for the benefit of posterity.  

The other day I was getting ready for work and talking to Matt at the same time, all the while checking the clock on the microwave to make sure I wouldn't be late.  I even checked my arcade cab computer clock a couple of times.  The last clock I checked was my phone, right before I left... it was 1:55.  When I got to work, Brian said, "You're early!"  I thought he was kidding around with me, because I was exactly on time, and I usually show up at 2:04.  I laughed and said, "Yeah, I am."  I went to clock in and Chiy said, "Why you so early?  It only 1:00!"  I looked at my phone.  It was 1:00.  I was incredulous.  I was in a state of disbelief.  I was shocked.  I was just a tad bit unnerved.  I had looked at three different clocks several times as I was getting ready for work, and I read each of them as an hour later than the actual time, each time.

Yesterday I was perusing this comic.  When you move the cursor on top of one of the images and leave it, a little text box pops up that says 'The 98% Degree'.  Well, the first time I did this, it didn't read that.  It read, 'imaginary breaks'.  WTF are imaginary breaks?  I tried it again and again, on different panels and different places in the panels, and it never ever popped up with 'imaginary breaks' again.  Yup, I'm going insane.  

A life full of sin.

I don't have to put myself through hell every day.  It's an unconscious choice that I don't notice a lot of the time, but it's still a choice.  I just said to myself, out loud, "A life full of sin is what I -" and I meant to say 'lead'.  What came out was 'leave'.  I didn't mean to say that.  I guess it wasn't a conscious choice, but it was still a choice.

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.

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?