Random Insight

I cried out to God tonight.

I asked why I never did anything for Him, why I lived my day by a to-do list and not His agenda, only coming out at night to thank Him for the fun I had, for my productivity, for the things my parents bought me. And moreover I asked why this scarcely bothered me.

It bugged me that I always knew what to say about politics, writing, art -- that I was bold enough to say it -- while I never knew where to begin standing up for my faith. Then God said, "If you thought you knew what to say about Me, you wouldn't consult Me." And I immediately knew it was true. I would spend my days pretending I could do it all alone, squeezing in some "God-time" in my busy schedule, but actually leaving Him out of it.

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding" -- Proverbs 3:5.

But I was finally ready to let go. I asked where to begin, and in that sweet voice, seemingly incapable of verbalizing the terms of modern technology, He said,

"How about that blog of yours?"

Monster Purse Complete!

Scene -- lunch

Me: There are videos on the Internet of Sadaam Hussein's execution.

Mom: Oh, there aren't either!

Dad: They wouldn't allow cameras in for that. There weren't even any reporters there.

Scene -- dinner

Mom: There are videos on the Internet of Sadaam Hussein's execution!!!

Dad: I know. I told you that.

Me: *sigh*

Mythical Creatures

It's now officially Christmas, which has got me thinking about holiday-related mythical creatures.

Take Santa Clause, for example: a common theme in Christmas movies involves kids who believe in Santa versus adults who do not. In the end, the kids are always proven correct (obviously, because how lame would a Christmas movie be if it debunked magic and furthermore caused kids to stop believing?) . . . but if Santa is real, how can the parents not know about it? If they don't put those presents under the tree and in the stockings, who do they think does? And when do the kids from families which open presents on Christmas Eve night think Santa comes -- the middle of the afternoon?

And speaking of strange magical happenings in broad daylight, you gotta wonder about that Easter Bunny. Why do kids not find it strange that the Easter Bunny is the same size as a human being, while all other bunnies are about six inches tall? Wouldn't some kid have seen this so-called six-foot-tall, pastel bunny hopping around? And why would a bunny lay eggs? Wouldn't it make more sense to tell your kids of an Easter Chicken?

Feel free to add your silly or cynical thoughts on holiday myths. I'm sensing a Christmas version of Scary Movie / Not Another Teen Movie / Epic Movie in the making . . .

I've been in a weird mood tonight. I think it's a manifestation of a midday nap, which leaves me tired but not sleepy at 2:12 AM.

I just spent an hour surfing the websites of various Ivy Leagues. Don't ask me why; I don't know. I have no desire to go to one (well, except to visit -- I do want to see those flippin' sweet Gothic buildings in person). I think it may have started with the realization that Rory Gilmore is an English, not a journalism, major, and the need to know if she could have majored in journalism if she'd gone to, say, Harvard.

For the record, neither Harvard nor Yale offers a journalism major.

I've nearly exhausted all my laptop's charge in the midst of my roaming. But I did extract one useful tidbit from my obsession with my newly-reinstated wireless connection . . .

The seventh book is entitled Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows!