More Like Falling in Love

The Possimpible

It's possible that all the snow could melt before it (really) snows again. Possible, but I'm not holding onto the hope. I saw the sun yesterday for the first time in a week. It lasted all of ten seconds. The street in front of my house flashed bright and warm, almost yellow; I glimpsed it from the living room before the clouds pulled back together to close us in the gloom. No lingering. Just there and gone, like the sun had never been.

I'm now in week two of P90X. If you ask me why I'm doing it, I won't have a good reason. I don't know. Maybe I'm doing it because I wanted something to do, and so why not? Maybe it feels ambitious, and I could use some ambition in my life. Maybe I don't believe it's possible for me to get ripped, but I want to, so I'm seeing if I can prove myself wrong.

I feel energized...and sore. I can feel every muscle in my body working, when I stand up, or sit down, or raise my leg, or anything. Apparently I used to take all of these simple movements for granted. Never more.

Last week in review: Sunday was great; pull-ups and push-ups are awesome. Monday plyometrics nearly killed me. I was ruined the rest of the week from all the jumping and squatting. Tuesday I was exhausted and sore all day until the workout, then I was energized and in such a good mood. I don't remember Wednesday. Thursday I nearly threw up afterward. Friday I didn't have time to do the whole DVD. Overall, my appetite has increased tremendously. I've stopped eating desserts. I didn't really decide to, it kind of just happened, but I'm not craving them as much, so that's helping. (I had only one cookie all week, and that was a treat on Sabbath. I also gave up my favorite granola bars, the kind with all the corn syrup.) I'm noticing more tone in my chest and abs. I'm sleeping better. Enough reasons for me to stick with this program, even though it's been hard and a huge time commitment. Who has time for an hour to an hour-and-a-half of exercise every day?

I had breakfast an hour ago, but I'm already famished.

It's a sure sign I'm taking the reality of television too seriously when I go to The Week to check the latest headlines half expecting to see news of Kitty McAllister running for congress in California's 54th.

Speaking of TV, do you watch Modern Family? Ben and Ashley got me hooked.

And I'm already counting down the days till spring break...(because winter break will be here and gone before you know it...)

Fat Cats

“Would you like a cat treat?”

“Why do you have those?”

“Alicia gave me them for when she brings her cat to visit.”

“Oh. Has she brought him by recently?”

“No. Have you seen him? He’s so much bigger.”

“Like teenager cat or fat cat? When they get older they get fat.”

“He’s not fat. He’s lean. Just bigger, all over.”

“I like fat cats. Not too fat, not like the Jordans' cat.”

“It shouldn't look pregnant if it’s not pregnant.”

“That should also be the rule with people.”

Year in Review

In 2008, I published 105 posts here. In 2009, I published 33. I don't know why I don't write as much as I used to. I want to write more, and I want to follow through. Today I found 9 posts from 2009 that I started but never finished, and today I'm in the mood for finishing things. So consider these finished as we sojourn into the first week of 2010.

3/23/2009
I haven't written lately because I've been tired and grouchy, and just the same as no one wants to be that person, seldom few want to read about it either. Myself included. How's that for honesty?

5/9/2009
This afternoon I ran full-force into a drinking fountain at Pioneers Park while trying to catch a Frisbee. My hip is bruised, tender and aching.

6/4/2009
I realized yesterday that I've been especially blessed by my distant friends this summer. In the last two months, I've spent time with nearly all of them. Which might explain for the lack of posting here.

7/2/2009
Today I'm overwhelmed with apathy.

8/4/2009
Every year Union offers a free blood chemistry test for all its employees. This morning while I was having my blood drawn, I overhead another man asking about the optional prostate and thyroid tests. "What are PSA and TSH?" he asked. The woman drawing my blood must've noticed that I was listening in; she leaned closer and whispered in my ear, "You don't need any of those hon'. You're still just a baby."

8/16/2009
Tomorrow marks the official start of the fall semester at Union, and I'm pretty bummed. Sometimes, when I'm in this kind of mood, it helps to do all my laundry. Everything's clean and hanging neatly in my closet, organized in color order. But tonight it doesn't seem to be helping. So I turn to Deb Talan. Together we sing of loneliness and longing and love and how sometimes we could see how cutting an ear off might be the most productive and satisfying thing to do. I'm tired of feeling misunderstood. It took me most of the night just to come up with that word—"misunderstood"—and strangely, it makes me feel a bit better just having labeled it, this heavy feeling growing inside me. It's hard to fall asleep. I have too much energy; my mind is too active this kind of night. Leslie and I have decided that she and I are very much opposites. She's the ultimate morning person. I clearly am not. Ben at 7 a.m. is a mean, grumpy mess. Ask Leslie. Leslie knows. Ben at 11 p.m. is alert and good to go. Which really sucks. So I lay under my covers in my dark room, and I try to sleep, but instead all I can do is think and worry, worry and think. About tomorrow and the future, of jobs and relationships, old dreams that I lost hold of somewhere along the way and new hopes still young and tender and fresh. I will dream, simple dreams. I will play my guitar and sing. I will hug the ones I love. I will not let myself lose sight of all that I've been given.

8/28/2009
So let's be honest. This hasn't been my most prolific blogging year. Maybe I'm in a rut. Maybe I've used up my allotment of creativity. Or maybe I've lost site of my hopes and aspirations.

10/14/2009
My boss got everyone in our office a big bright red exercise ball. We're supposed to sit on them instead of our desk chairs. At first I was not a fan of this because I thought it looked silly. Now I'm not a fan because my back is aching. Apparently I don't have good posture. I wonder how long I will have to sit on this stupid ball before my body corrects itself.

11/4/2009
Day to day, there's not much of worth for me to share. The little things that fill my 9 to 5 aren't very interesting. Who needs to know that I finally gave in and bought two boxes of shiny new paperclips for the office last week? Who cares if I don't like eating seaweed? I've listened to The Weepies' "All That I Want" about a dozen times this morning, but it doesn't matter.

Classic Conversations

[A pot of cold, cooked beets is sitting on the stove.]

Leslie: "Should I put the beets in something?"

Ben: "They look like drowned rats."

Leslie: "Drowned rats have heads and tails."

[She peers into the pot and sees the fuzzy tail-like stems of the beets.]

Leslie: "Oh."

______

Ben: "Did you notice my fly was open?"

Leslie: "I try not to look at your crotch. I would appreciate if you would extend me the same courtesy."

This October

Two Thursday nights ago I helped Emily Carlson lead music for "9 o'clock"—Union's new all-music worship. Just guitars and vocals, no mics, no lights, very low-key. Emily and I lingered in the Rees Hall chapel afterward, and she taught me Starfield's "Cry in My Heart."

As we made our way out I noticed in my peripheral some students gathered around a table in the lobby playing a very loud game of cards. My heart ached.

Years ago I would've been at that table. Those would've been my friends, and if they saw me walk by, they would've called me to join them. But everything passes, and time goes away. I turned and continued walking out of the lobby.

"Ben!"

Kenny and Taleah called after me, waving from the table for me to come join them. Surprised and glad, I turned and walked back, pulled up a chair, and we played "Ghetto UNO" for the next hour. Everyone agreed it was the best game night ever, and we made plans to do it again.

The next night I got to vespers ten minutes late, walked all the way up to the second row from the front, and stood awkwardly in the aisle while Pastor Rich talked about the Sabbath candle and the already full row of friends shifted to make room for me in the middle between Taleah and Emily. "I wanted to sit by you for your iPhone," said Taleah.

And as I sat there in vespers happily squeezed into that row with my friends, it occurred to me that five years ago I didn't know any of them. Five years ago I didn't think I would ever make any new dear friends again.

But I have.

It's like my life at Union has been a TV show, and I'm the lead character, but all the regulars from season one have left the show. These newbies are all a bit younger. They're my support now. I'm invested in them. Still part of me hopes the writers will bring back an old character for a special guest appearance, or maybe have a flashback or some kind of reunion so we can pretend, just for one night, that things are the way they used to be and nothing's changed.

For a few months now Ben Barber and I have been getting together once a week for Music Night. We sit in the Barber's living room till late, playing guitar, singing old songs, learning new ones. Sometimes other friends and family join in; sometimes it's just us. It feels like finding something I forgot I lost.

Last Tuesday my college roommate Justin and I talked on the phone for over an hour. I hadn't heard his voice since May. We're not very good at keeping in touch. There's so much distance, we're both busy, but we still care. So we scheduled a time to connect. It's good to schedule the time.

Friendships evolve; they are not static. We either adapt, or we're left behind. Five years ago I didn't know what that meant. Now I've made and lost enough to understand.

Your Love Is Strong