I now want to watch Enchanted again, but Youtube is sucking.
Watched the Season 3 season finale for Lie to Me tonight. It was touching. At the very end of the episode, Cal's daughter asked him a very touching question, which got me thinking. (For those who want to see it and haven't stop reading now, and skip ahead to where it says CONTINUE ADVENTURE ON PAGE 9)
Emily, the daughter, asked Cal if he loved Foster, his close co-worker and friend. He responded easily with a yes, at which point Emily prodded with a more pressing "do you REALLY love her?" type question. He paused before saying that he did indeed love her. Emily looked confused for a moment, then asked what he was waiting for, meaning why he hadn't tried to pursue anything with her. Cal simply said he didn't know.
CONTINUE ADVENTURE ON PAGE 9
Page 9
I am in a similar point in my life. There are things that I know I want, that I know are in my power to reach for and work for, but that I continue to put off. Now I'm not saying I need to profess my love for someone, but I have been in that situation, and I was scared. To segue, when it comes to the fairer sex, I have no courage whatsoever. I have found that I can flirt shamelessly, and yet if it is a girl that I genuinely like, I lock up. I have trouble telling them anything about how I like them, and even, at times, get more bullying than usual in an attempt to cover up my true feelings. (bullying in the sense that I like to point out something that I actually like, insult it, and then apologize emphatically while giving them an actual compliment to it)
In other aspects of my life, I have yet to reach out to the Green Bay Packers and ask for an internship in their scouting department, or quality control, or statistics scribe, whatever. I mean, I REALLY want to work for the Packers, in most any aspect that was available to me. But instead, I apply for things I don't want to do, because if I got turned down for something I wanted, it would hurt too much. If I didn't accomplish what I didn't really want to do, meh. Whatever.
I guess, Lightman and I have something in common: neither of us want to lose the thing we care most about. But if I don't go for that job, I know I will never get it. So why not go for it? I have a good chance... Right?
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
The other night, I fell asleep to rain on m roof, and this morning I woke up to it. There is a steady, cold drizzle falling on Sheboygan, and I generally love these days. In the hot summer, a rainy day was a wonderful day for a run, and an amazing day for a game of ultimate frisbee. My best game ever was this past summer during a pouring rain. I dove for 6 scores and slid a combined 80 feet after the catch. Great day. Two of my most memorable practices from high school cross country involved rain. One, a Wednesday freshman year, was cancelled because we had enough wind and rain to lean at a 45 degree angle into the wind without falling down... until the wind cut out quickly. Then you had better catch yourself, or your face would. The other was my junior year, and Woody Hanson came back for a practice. We did a rabbit run through Evergreen. It was the only time I had not caught someone in a rabbit.
Days like this bring an element of peace to me. The sound of rain is comforting, and reminds me of my Scottish heritage. And these days, I begin to think about where I will serve my mission. With over 350 missions in 162 countries, I am really in a guessing game as to where I will be from early 2012 through the same time 2014. When I start thinking, I start drifting off into what it could be like, and where I would like to go. Disclaimer: I do not know the exact limits of certain missions, but these are the broad and/or specific places I would like to be... which probably means I won't go to any of these places.
#1 Alaska: A land of incredible natural beauty with mountains, snow, and very little sunlight, I have wanted to go to Alaska ever since my friend Mark Palenske told me he would take me if I set a school running record.
#2 New Zealand: Another area with rolling hills and mountains, swathes of seemingly untouched wilderness. It doesn't hurt that they play rugby and filmed Lord of the Rings here.
#3 Scotland: I have wanted to run the highlands since first seeing Braveheart in 1996. The land is a rugged and wondrous place, and I have wanted to see if I could blend my phoney Scottish accent successfully with the real guys. Wearing a kilt on my mission would be a huge bonus.
#4 Ireland or England: Countries that I have either had an innate connection with (The Isle), or have simply immersed myself in the history of (England) to the point where I want to visit both. Living there for two years and hearing the history from the people themselves would appeal to the historian in me.
#5 Italy or France: I count myself a romantic, and being able to travel to the two countries I consider the root of romanticism and learn a language that I have wanted to learn for years would appeal greatly to my softer side.
#7 Middle East: I'm not sure where I would want to be specifically, but probably Israel, or Saudi Arabia. Israel because of the great amount of religious history, and also the locations of such political strife from the Egyptians invading, the Babylonians, the Greeks, Romans, and eventually the armies of Europe, Mongolian hordes on the doorstep, Ottaman Turks, etc. Saudi Arabia because I would love to learn to learn to speak Arabic, a seemingly beautiful and flowing verbal and written language.
#8 Eastern Europe: The entire region is littered with mountains and a people as tough as the land. Also, my former boss, and friend, wants me to go there and meet a mutual friends sister and marry her. Not exactly in my plans, but I would be remiss to omit this.
#9 West Virginia: Sorry Brando, but the countryside is all rolling hills and mountains, good weather from what I saw, and close to so much history that I studied in my civil war immersion.
#10 Utah: I know, but I haven't ever been to Utah, so I figure a two year stint there could do me well. Plus, it is a GORGEOUS state, voted the most beautiful area of the US by my former Middle Eastern History professor.
Well, that rolls up my top 10 (12 if you split 4 and 5 into two each, and about 25 depending on how many Eastern European and Middle Eastern countries you count), and I honestly do not know where I am going. All I can do is prepare myself to be ready when m name is called.
Where do YOU think I will be going?
Days like this bring an element of peace to me. The sound of rain is comforting, and reminds me of my Scottish heritage. And these days, I begin to think about where I will serve my mission. With over 350 missions in 162 countries, I am really in a guessing game as to where I will be from early 2012 through the same time 2014. When I start thinking, I start drifting off into what it could be like, and where I would like to go. Disclaimer: I do not know the exact limits of certain missions, but these are the broad and/or specific places I would like to be... which probably means I won't go to any of these places.
#1 Alaska: A land of incredible natural beauty with mountains, snow, and very little sunlight, I have wanted to go to Alaska ever since my friend Mark Palenske told me he would take me if I set a school running record.
#2 New Zealand: Another area with rolling hills and mountains, swathes of seemingly untouched wilderness. It doesn't hurt that they play rugby and filmed Lord of the Rings here.
#3 Scotland: I have wanted to run the highlands since first seeing Braveheart in 1996. The land is a rugged and wondrous place, and I have wanted to see if I could blend my phoney Scottish accent successfully with the real guys. Wearing a kilt on my mission would be a huge bonus.
#4 Ireland or England: Countries that I have either had an innate connection with (The Isle), or have simply immersed myself in the history of (England) to the point where I want to visit both. Living there for two years and hearing the history from the people themselves would appeal to the historian in me.
#5 Italy or France: I count myself a romantic, and being able to travel to the two countries I consider the root of romanticism and learn a language that I have wanted to learn for years would appeal greatly to my softer side.
#7 Middle East: I'm not sure where I would want to be specifically, but probably Israel, or Saudi Arabia. Israel because of the great amount of religious history, and also the locations of such political strife from the Egyptians invading, the Babylonians, the Greeks, Romans, and eventually the armies of Europe, Mongolian hordes on the doorstep, Ottaman Turks, etc. Saudi Arabia because I would love to learn to learn to speak Arabic, a seemingly beautiful and flowing verbal and written language.
#8 Eastern Europe: The entire region is littered with mountains and a people as tough as the land. Also, my former boss, and friend, wants me to go there and meet a mutual friends sister and marry her. Not exactly in my plans, but I would be remiss to omit this.
#9 West Virginia: Sorry Brando, but the countryside is all rolling hills and mountains, good weather from what I saw, and close to so much history that I studied in my civil war immersion.
#10 Utah: I know, but I haven't ever been to Utah, so I figure a two year stint there could do me well. Plus, it is a GORGEOUS state, voted the most beautiful area of the US by my former Middle Eastern History professor.
Well, that rolls up my top 10 (12 if you split 4 and 5 into two each, and about 25 depending on how many Eastern European and Middle Eastern countries you count), and I honestly do not know where I am going. All I can do is prepare myself to be ready when m name is called.
Where do YOU think I will be going?
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
There is no I in team... but winning team has TWO i's... just like your face!
I witnessed a great offensive performance by the Lutheran High School Girl's Volleyball team tonight. They easily outplayed Green Lake, winning handily in two games. Well done.
While watching this game, I focused intently on the gameplay, partly in an effort to ignore the lack of pants that volleyball players wear now. After the game, I realized that I was so impressed with how well they played that I didn't have to try to watch the game. After the first point, I was locked in. I noticed how easily, and quickly, and uniformly the teammates swarmed to, and from, the ball on a number of plays. They seemed to know each other well enough that much of the time they did not even appear to use verbal communication. They worked together with devastating efficiency.
Now I love watching many sports, and I have seen LeBron dominate a court, Pujols smash wins for the Cards, Barry Sanders carry the Lions for years (no wonder he retired early. Have you ever tried carrying a whole football team on your back?), track athletes win state school titles by themselves, swimmers breaking records to make up for teammates less than glamorous relay splits, etc. But I have never seen a single person dominate a volleyball court (excluding sand, here). Tonight I witnessed a truly team oriented sport. Now I know Wilt Chamberlain wouldn't have scored 100 without four other guys on the wood, and CJ2K needed somebody in front of him, but for the most part, they are very replaceable guys around true Stars (note the capitalization).
Two years ago, I watched the national title game for NCAA DIV I Women's Volleyball. It was sweet to watch them fluidly move around the net, surround the ball while moving key teammates to the corners and net, mixing feints with spikes, and moving up blockers while keeping the open spots covered... two years later, I still remember watching that in the Horse and Plow.
In everything we do with others, there is an element of trust with everyone else involved. I trust my sister to be compelled in most things that she does, except for eating, doing dance/kickboxing aerobics, and drawing. I trust my friends to not push me to drink, smoke, or any unclean thing when we go out, and they trust me to help keep them safe if they do decided to engage in aforementioned activities. My mom trusts my dad to clean the kitchen if he didn't do his other responsibilities, and to attempt to clean the garage every year for her b-day. But The QB trusts the tackles to block, pitcher trusts the outfielders, who trust the pitcher, and the professional bowler trusts his bowling ball.
These girls seem to trust each other whole heartedly on that court. I fully expect a state championship, and maybe even a repeat performance next year. Thank you for showing me how perfectly people can operate when they are in tune, and good luck Thursday night!!
While watching this game, I focused intently on the gameplay, partly in an effort to ignore the lack of pants that volleyball players wear now. After the game, I realized that I was so impressed with how well they played that I didn't have to try to watch the game. After the first point, I was locked in. I noticed how easily, and quickly, and uniformly the teammates swarmed to, and from, the ball on a number of plays. They seemed to know each other well enough that much of the time they did not even appear to use verbal communication. They worked together with devastating efficiency.
Now I love watching many sports, and I have seen LeBron dominate a court, Pujols smash wins for the Cards, Barry Sanders carry the Lions for years (no wonder he retired early. Have you ever tried carrying a whole football team on your back?), track athletes win state school titles by themselves, swimmers breaking records to make up for teammates less than glamorous relay splits, etc. But I have never seen a single person dominate a volleyball court (excluding sand, here). Tonight I witnessed a truly team oriented sport. Now I know Wilt Chamberlain wouldn't have scored 100 without four other guys on the wood, and CJ2K needed somebody in front of him, but for the most part, they are very replaceable guys around true Stars (note the capitalization).
Two years ago, I watched the national title game for NCAA DIV I Women's Volleyball. It was sweet to watch them fluidly move around the net, surround the ball while moving key teammates to the corners and net, mixing feints with spikes, and moving up blockers while keeping the open spots covered... two years later, I still remember watching that in the Horse and Plow.
In everything we do with others, there is an element of trust with everyone else involved. I trust my sister to be compelled in most things that she does, except for eating, doing dance/kickboxing aerobics, and drawing. I trust my friends to not push me to drink, smoke, or any unclean thing when we go out, and they trust me to help keep them safe if they do decided to engage in aforementioned activities. My mom trusts my dad to clean the kitchen if he didn't do his other responsibilities, and to attempt to clean the garage every year for her b-day. But The QB trusts the tackles to block, pitcher trusts the outfielders, who trust the pitcher, and the professional bowler trusts his bowling ball.
These girls seem to trust each other whole heartedly on that court. I fully expect a state championship, and maybe even a repeat performance next year. Thank you for showing me how perfectly people can operate when they are in tune, and good luck Thursday night!!
Monday, October 17, 2011
"He was a pimp'' ''I was a pimp" -The Other Guys
That was a revelation for Allen Gamble. Terry Hoitz had been telling him since Allen's past had been uncovered that he was a pimp, not running a simple dating service. He was a pimp, and a very successful one, I gather.
Have you ever realized that you weren't who you thought you were? Maybe somebody broke the glass on the fact that you have an affinity for using like in every sentence, chewing with you mouth open, making snide comments about the people who walk past, or not passing the ball in a pick up game of 3-on-3. Maybe you have a tendency to forget to clean the bathroom when it is your turn in the rotation, don't put in an equal effort on a group project, or talk during movies, telling everyone who hasn't watched the movie to 'Watch this.'
I think I may talk football too much. Sorry if you don't like it. I also talk Ryan Reynolds, clothes, musicals, and Ryan Reynolds, if that is your fancy. I also have a condition where I fall asleep if I am comfortable, so if you see my eyes fluttering in a conversation, it's not you, it's me. I tell stories of other people, cause I have few about myself that I find entertaining, so my stories almost always start with "I have a friend who..." Additionally, I never come up with original plans, and never make a certain decision. You will here a lot of 'sure,' 'I can do that,' and 'I don't know' from me if we are making plans. I also have trouble giving an honest opinion.
I have my faults, and recognize many of them. Now, I haven't voiced (keyboarded?) all of them here, but I do try and work on these shortcomings. I know that I will never be perfect, but I know I want to be, so I try and work on it every day. Please help me. Politely point things out to me that I can work on, especially if you are willing to help me with it if I ask.
Have you ever realized that you weren't who you thought you were? Maybe somebody broke the glass on the fact that you have an affinity for using like in every sentence, chewing with you mouth open, making snide comments about the people who walk past, or not passing the ball in a pick up game of 3-on-3. Maybe you have a tendency to forget to clean the bathroom when it is your turn in the rotation, don't put in an equal effort on a group project, or talk during movies, telling everyone who hasn't watched the movie to 'Watch this.'
I think I may talk football too much. Sorry if you don't like it. I also talk Ryan Reynolds, clothes, musicals, and Ryan Reynolds, if that is your fancy. I also have a condition where I fall asleep if I am comfortable, so if you see my eyes fluttering in a conversation, it's not you, it's me. I tell stories of other people, cause I have few about myself that I find entertaining, so my stories almost always start with "I have a friend who..." Additionally, I never come up with original plans, and never make a certain decision. You will here a lot of 'sure,' 'I can do that,' and 'I don't know' from me if we are making plans. I also have trouble giving an honest opinion.
I have my faults, and recognize many of them. Now, I haven't voiced (keyboarded?) all of them here, but I do try and work on these shortcomings. I know that I will never be perfect, but I know I want to be, so I try and work on it every day. Please help me. Politely point things out to me that I can work on, especially if you are willing to help me with it if I ask.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
may the force be with you. always.
Time to reference another show I have been streaming via netflix: Psych.
It is funny, entertaining, rather immature, and has a wonderful, cute, and quirky love story. Last night, I watched the episode with the high school reunion with Rachel Leigh Cook. Gus had been voted most likely to succeed in high school, and his former classmates looked down on him for being less than what they projected him to be, and he got down on himself because of their opinions.
I have never really had any goals for myself. There have been things I wanted to do; write a book, climb a mountain, track down a deer through the woods and a run, break 4.7 in the 40 yard dash, learn how to dance (both ballroom and break), sing a song without going off key. I never had any real expectations when it came to my professional future, though.
Part of my job with Associated Bank is demoing samples for Festival Foods. A former teacher came by and we chatted for a little bit while she sample the potato salad, and a few days later, she came by again, this time while I was in the bank itself. She looked surprised, then relieved. She told me that she had expected more from me than handing out free samples for a living.
Oh really? Is that so? You judging me?!?!? I have hardly ever pushed myself, never actually planned ahead, and the closest I have come to real five-year plan is "I think I will be alive at that point... not sure what i'll be doing, though!"
I think this is typical of many people. Feel free to tell me if you have, but I know very few people who go all the way through college without once changing their major (even if they revert back to their original major) and then never change careers after that. During freshman orientation at SNC, I was told the average person changing careers, not jobs, 6 times. What good is a five-year plan if you are going to be changing careers every five years, and jobs at an even more rapid rate? Why plan ahead if the best laid plans are going to be changed by outside forces?
I have learned to simply try and control my life in a way that is in accord with Alcoholic Anonymous; One Day At A Time. I have an AA coin in my wallet, and repeat the serenity prayer at times when I am feeling weak or unimportant. I have acquired a list of the 12 steps and have worked to follow them. I make plans with a long term goal (for me that is a month), but work to get through each 24 hour span to make it a victory. I have to make conscious efforts to accomplish my goals each day, whether it be homework, school work, work work, scripture study, working out, or blogging. I am not the type of person who makes a goal, and then follows it through to the end. I don't have the drive and determination. I don;t have that willpower.
Because of THAT, I am scared. I am about to put myself in a position where I will be dedicating myself to two years of missionary work. I know for a fact that the Gavin Strawn that has walked the sidewalks of St. Norbert College and run CC at North High and played Ultimate Frisbee at Field of Dreams cannot accomplish this daunting task. That guy just doesn't have it in him to do this. But I know that guy will be helped.
The Holy Ghost has been given to me that I might be able to draw strength from the Lord when I ask in faith and with righteous desires. I know that with help from Heavenly Father, I can be successful in anything that I set out to do. When I turn myself over to the work, and put forth the effort to humble myself, to make myself a vessel for the Spirit, then I will be able to do things that I never dreamed possible.
It is in humility that I can find strength, and it is in the Lord that I will find peace. I just have to make each day a goal, and live one day at a time.
It is funny, entertaining, rather immature, and has a wonderful, cute, and quirky love story. Last night, I watched the episode with the high school reunion with Rachel Leigh Cook. Gus had been voted most likely to succeed in high school, and his former classmates looked down on him for being less than what they projected him to be, and he got down on himself because of their opinions.
I have never really had any goals for myself. There have been things I wanted to do; write a book, climb a mountain, track down a deer through the woods and a run, break 4.7 in the 40 yard dash, learn how to dance (both ballroom and break), sing a song without going off key. I never had any real expectations when it came to my professional future, though.
Part of my job with Associated Bank is demoing samples for Festival Foods. A former teacher came by and we chatted for a little bit while she sample the potato salad, and a few days later, she came by again, this time while I was in the bank itself. She looked surprised, then relieved. She told me that she had expected more from me than handing out free samples for a living.
Oh really? Is that so? You judging me?!?!? I have hardly ever pushed myself, never actually planned ahead, and the closest I have come to real five-year plan is "I think I will be alive at that point... not sure what i'll be doing, though!"
I think this is typical of many people. Feel free to tell me if you have, but I know very few people who go all the way through college without once changing their major (even if they revert back to their original major) and then never change careers after that. During freshman orientation at SNC, I was told the average person changing careers, not jobs, 6 times. What good is a five-year plan if you are going to be changing careers every five years, and jobs at an even more rapid rate? Why plan ahead if the best laid plans are going to be changed by outside forces?
I have learned to simply try and control my life in a way that is in accord with Alcoholic Anonymous; One Day At A Time. I have an AA coin in my wallet, and repeat the serenity prayer at times when I am feeling weak or unimportant. I have acquired a list of the 12 steps and have worked to follow them. I make plans with a long term goal (for me that is a month), but work to get through each 24 hour span to make it a victory. I have to make conscious efforts to accomplish my goals each day, whether it be homework, school work, work work, scripture study, working out, or blogging. I am not the type of person who makes a goal, and then follows it through to the end. I don't have the drive and determination. I don;t have that willpower.
Because of THAT, I am scared. I am about to put myself in a position where I will be dedicating myself to two years of missionary work. I know for a fact that the Gavin Strawn that has walked the sidewalks of St. Norbert College and run CC at North High and played Ultimate Frisbee at Field of Dreams cannot accomplish this daunting task. That guy just doesn't have it in him to do this. But I know that guy will be helped.
The Holy Ghost has been given to me that I might be able to draw strength from the Lord when I ask in faith and with righteous desires. I know that with help from Heavenly Father, I can be successful in anything that I set out to do. When I turn myself over to the work, and put forth the effort to humble myself, to make myself a vessel for the Spirit, then I will be able to do things that I never dreamed possible.
It is in humility that I can find strength, and it is in the Lord that I will find peace. I just have to make each day a goal, and live one day at a time.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
The truth is written on all our faces -Cal Lightman
Anyone who hasn't seen Lie to Me, I highly recommend it. It is a fun blend of loose science, fairly realistic office romance, and a main character whose narcissism drives him to be far more confrontational than is necessary. I absolutely love it.
Cal Lightman, played by Tim Roth (one of the more underrated actors in the world in my opinion), studies microexpressions; the brief twitches of the muscles in peoples faces that reveal the truth that only those specially trained can hide or alter. He uses his skills to read people, discover what they are lying about, and then work to uncover the truth. He is employed by politicians, the FBI, CIA, and private institutions in business, academia, etc. What Lightman does on the side, however, is screen every single boy who attempts to get close to his daughter, nose into his co-workers affairs, and terrorize local gyro stands. He reads everyone, whether he is getting paid/asked to or not. He reads every emotion that crosses their face, and judges them and criticizes them, and maybe even, if he is feeling overwhelmingly charitable, comforts them.
The reason I bring this up is because A) I have been streaming three seasons of the show for the last week with my dad, and B) because I cannot express myself in words and a times wish that I could be read like a book.
I made a trip up to school this week, compliments of my friend and her willingness to drive 68 miles (136 round) twice, and I was able to talk with a number of dear friends. In one particular conversation, I found out that one of my friends reminded me of me; she can't express herself effectively. Through a series of halting and repetitious statements, I found that her feelings on feelings matched my feelings on feelings... and if I write feelings one more time I am sure someone is going to demand my Man Card, and then offer me a Miller Lite 16oz aluminum can.
I am also streaming a series of Josh Groban songs, which does nothing to help my status as a man. I also want to watch jersey boys, hairspray, and Phantom of the Opera (starring Gerard Butler). I have insane amounts of difficulty being able to fully understand and then explain my feelings, but these things, this popular media, helps me. I know that touching, haunting, and Scots-Irish music make me shiver and tear up. I know that Romantic comedies get me. I know that if I simply try and describe the last scene of Last of the Mohicans to someone, I shrivel inside thinking of the pain, anguish, fear, and loss of a father witnessing his son's murder his son, and a women seeing her sister throw herself to her death, resigned to believing everything was lost, and I cannot stop myself from shaking with sobs, and wiping the tears from my face. I know that Miracle, Remember the Titans, and Rudy all make me want to work harder than I ever have to accomplish something amazing. I know that I have been touched by the spirit at so many keep points in my life, and I have been guided and directed by a still, small voice that displays far more patience with me than I have ever displayed for anything, and without that guidance, I would be lost. My chest tightens when I disappoint those that had expectations for me or were relying on me. I cannot put these things into words without much preparing ahead of time what I am going to say. All I know at the moment is variations of heat and color that I feel within myself.
I now know from first hand experience that I am not alone with an inability to voice how I feel. I can reference it at times, but to flat out be able to tell someone how I feel is no where near one of my qualities. I am shy, and when it comes to how I feel, I will add reserved and quiet. My smile may mask my pain, and my tears are often that of joy. I don't know how to tell you how I feel, or how to fully express it. I apologize if this shortcoming has ever affected any of you, but it's who I am, and I am trying to get better at communicating. I just hope we can all have patience for those who can't find the words, and also patience for those who seem to never run out of words... or maybe we should all train to be microexpression experts.
Cal Lightman, played by Tim Roth (one of the more underrated actors in the world in my opinion), studies microexpressions; the brief twitches of the muscles in peoples faces that reveal the truth that only those specially trained can hide or alter. He uses his skills to read people, discover what they are lying about, and then work to uncover the truth. He is employed by politicians, the FBI, CIA, and private institutions in business, academia, etc. What Lightman does on the side, however, is screen every single boy who attempts to get close to his daughter, nose into his co-workers affairs, and terrorize local gyro stands. He reads everyone, whether he is getting paid/asked to or not. He reads every emotion that crosses their face, and judges them and criticizes them, and maybe even, if he is feeling overwhelmingly charitable, comforts them.
The reason I bring this up is because A) I have been streaming three seasons of the show for the last week with my dad, and B) because I cannot express myself in words and a times wish that I could be read like a book.
I made a trip up to school this week, compliments of my friend and her willingness to drive 68 miles (136 round) twice, and I was able to talk with a number of dear friends. In one particular conversation, I found out that one of my friends reminded me of me; she can't express herself effectively. Through a series of halting and repetitious statements, I found that her feelings on feelings matched my feelings on feelings... and if I write feelings one more time I am sure someone is going to demand my Man Card, and then offer me a Miller Lite 16oz aluminum can.
I am also streaming a series of Josh Groban songs, which does nothing to help my status as a man. I also want to watch jersey boys, hairspray, and Phantom of the Opera (starring Gerard Butler). I have insane amounts of difficulty being able to fully understand and then explain my feelings, but these things, this popular media, helps me. I know that touching, haunting, and Scots-Irish music make me shiver and tear up. I know that Romantic comedies get me. I know that if I simply try and describe the last scene of Last of the Mohicans to someone, I shrivel inside thinking of the pain, anguish, fear, and loss of a father witnessing his son's murder his son, and a women seeing her sister throw herself to her death, resigned to believing everything was lost, and I cannot stop myself from shaking with sobs, and wiping the tears from my face. I know that Miracle, Remember the Titans, and Rudy all make me want to work harder than I ever have to accomplish something amazing. I know that I have been touched by the spirit at so many keep points in my life, and I have been guided and directed by a still, small voice that displays far more patience with me than I have ever displayed for anything, and without that guidance, I would be lost. My chest tightens when I disappoint those that had expectations for me or were relying on me. I cannot put these things into words without much preparing ahead of time what I am going to say. All I know at the moment is variations of heat and color that I feel within myself.
I now know from first hand experience that I am not alone with an inability to voice how I feel. I can reference it at times, but to flat out be able to tell someone how I feel is no where near one of my qualities. I am shy, and when it comes to how I feel, I will add reserved and quiet. My smile may mask my pain, and my tears are often that of joy. I don't know how to tell you how I feel, or how to fully express it. I apologize if this shortcoming has ever affected any of you, but it's who I am, and I am trying to get better at communicating. I just hope we can all have patience for those who can't find the words, and also patience for those who seem to never run out of words... or maybe we should all train to be microexpression experts.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Pork, mother. PORK!
Keeping to my word, I will tell you all about my mother's cooking.
The other night, I had traded hours with someone so instead of working the morning shift until afternoon, I worked the morning shift until close. I had a number of plans for that evening that included making hummus, cooking chicken, making dinner... well, a lot with food. So when my mom texted me asking if I wanted a ride home or if I wanted to run, I accepted the ride. I was tired and a little annoyed when my mom got to festival, but we did a quick walk through of the store looking for good sales (89 cents for shampoo and conditioner, and buy 2 ice cream sandwich boxes and save $7), and then we went home. I walked in, and a beautiful wafted over me. As it turns out, mom used the extra hours that I was away at work to cook up last weeks sale items (pork chops and squash). I looked at the chops, and my mouth started to water, and I was even craving the squash a little bit (but refused to admit that). We piled it all up on wild rice, and I took my first bite.
Now anyone who has cooked pork understands the difficulty of finding a balance between dry and pink. You don't want it either. My mom had nailed it. It was actually JUICY, and the meat was all white. That first bite sent heaven seeping into my taste buds. The rim of fat had a slight burn to it, just enough to give it a firm texture, and it was soaked with flavor. I ate a pound and a half of pork that night.
Between moans reminiscent of "What about Bob," I was able to ask my mom what in the world she had done to make a dinner that would make Thor sit back and bellow out his appreciation, and if I could have the recipe. She blushed a little, and said she just made it up as she went along. Needing the recipe, I quickly questioned her so that she would be able to remember what she had done. We pieced together that she had made a vinaigrette marinade, and had soaked the pork chops for a little bit, then pan seared them in a white wine (with the vinaigrette) just enough to tough the outside a little, then thrown the whole pan in the oven to cook for a bit.
Good enough. We would be able to has out the details later, but I had a rough idea on how to make the greatest meal I have ever tasted. I don't think I have ever eaten out, and not preferred my mother's variation of the dish. She is spectacular. Shrimp and chicken jambalaya, pineapple and red onion foccacia, three cheese frittata, bacon spaghetti carbonara, chicken and dumplings, soft biscuits with a sausage saw mill gravy, juicy chicken teriyaki, Polish meat balls, and her deserts and even sandwiches just knock every thing else out of the park. The only thing I have ever had that is close to it is Il Ritrovo, and eating at Big Sal's house when visiting in-laws. He makes the best parmesen chicken.
I would love to be a food and mattress critic. It would be the perfect job for me, except for one small thing. The review would read "Bard's pork would make you go 'mmmmmm. OH!!!' and the squash would bring a 'wow!' to your lips.' I don't think that is what they are looking for. But I absolutely love food, and I am not overly picky. There are definitely things I don't want to eat, but I have grown a taste for previously shoved aside foods such as spinach and bell peppers. But buffets, all day breakfasts, old style burger joints, Italian restaurants, and my mom's cooking all make me happy. Culvers, McDonalds, and Wendy's make me happy, even though I know the food probably (understatement) isn't good for me, but it tastes good, because it is how McDonalds is SUPPOSED to taste.
I can't cook like my mother, but I want to learn how. If I could serve up dishes half as well as my mom, I will have a happy household... and I would probably become the most popular missionary in my district.
The other night, I had traded hours with someone so instead of working the morning shift until afternoon, I worked the morning shift until close. I had a number of plans for that evening that included making hummus, cooking chicken, making dinner... well, a lot with food. So when my mom texted me asking if I wanted a ride home or if I wanted to run, I accepted the ride. I was tired and a little annoyed when my mom got to festival, but we did a quick walk through of the store looking for good sales (89 cents for shampoo and conditioner, and buy 2 ice cream sandwich boxes and save $7), and then we went home. I walked in, and a beautiful wafted over me. As it turns out, mom used the extra hours that I was away at work to cook up last weeks sale items (pork chops and squash). I looked at the chops, and my mouth started to water, and I was even craving the squash a little bit (but refused to admit that). We piled it all up on wild rice, and I took my first bite.
Now anyone who has cooked pork understands the difficulty of finding a balance between dry and pink. You don't want it either. My mom had nailed it. It was actually JUICY, and the meat was all white. That first bite sent heaven seeping into my taste buds. The rim of fat had a slight burn to it, just enough to give it a firm texture, and it was soaked with flavor. I ate a pound and a half of pork that night.
Between moans reminiscent of "What about Bob," I was able to ask my mom what in the world she had done to make a dinner that would make Thor sit back and bellow out his appreciation, and if I could have the recipe. She blushed a little, and said she just made it up as she went along. Needing the recipe, I quickly questioned her so that she would be able to remember what she had done. We pieced together that she had made a vinaigrette marinade, and had soaked the pork chops for a little bit, then pan seared them in a white wine (with the vinaigrette) just enough to tough the outside a little, then thrown the whole pan in the oven to cook for a bit.
Good enough. We would be able to has out the details later, but I had a rough idea on how to make the greatest meal I have ever tasted. I don't think I have ever eaten out, and not preferred my mother's variation of the dish. She is spectacular. Shrimp and chicken jambalaya, pineapple and red onion foccacia, three cheese frittata, bacon spaghetti carbonara, chicken and dumplings, soft biscuits with a sausage saw mill gravy, juicy chicken teriyaki, Polish meat balls, and her deserts and even sandwiches just knock every thing else out of the park. The only thing I have ever had that is close to it is Il Ritrovo, and eating at Big Sal's house when visiting in-laws. He makes the best parmesen chicken.
I would love to be a food and mattress critic. It would be the perfect job for me, except for one small thing. The review would read "Bard's pork would make you go 'mmmmmm. OH!!!' and the squash would bring a 'wow!' to your lips.' I don't think that is what they are looking for. But I absolutely love food, and I am not overly picky. There are definitely things I don't want to eat, but I have grown a taste for previously shoved aside foods such as spinach and bell peppers. But buffets, all day breakfasts, old style burger joints, Italian restaurants, and my mom's cooking all make me happy. Culvers, McDonalds, and Wendy's make me happy, even though I know the food probably (understatement) isn't good for me, but it tastes good, because it is how McDonalds is SUPPOSED to taste.
I can't cook like my mother, but I want to learn how. If I could serve up dishes half as well as my mom, I will have a happy household... and I would probably become the most popular missionary in my district.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)