BoldUlysses.com

Register tape poetry and half-hearted price changes at work are beginning to get me down. My boss loves me because I do what he tells me to do, but there’s more. There’s just more, and I’ve known it all along. I’ve filled out my teaching application and found my references… I just need to talk to principals now. Middle school art. The prospect of teaching it scares me to death, but I know that if I did the strength and level-headedness that it takes would come from a source altogether without me. We’ll see. I want to talk to Jim Adams about being a student teacher at Jordan HS first.

There is…
are, pictures,
there, and a
breath not taken.

Snow is falling outside, or was so very recently. It’s probably changed over to freezing rain or some such thing by now. Traffic was a mess trying to get home from Cary. I have to open the store tomorrow at 10, too. Please pray for safety. I don’t want to get stuck in a ditch or wrapped over a guardrail tomorrow morning. The snowflakes were amazing on the way home, though, large enough that I felt like I could catch them in the palm of my hand before they piffed on the hood and windshield. It’s always amazing to observe snow or rain from a distance as the sheets scroll downwards in front of the dark trees… It just gives you an appreciation of the scale of the weather that’s cascading down on us. To amuse myself on the long drive home, I scootched forward in the seat, put my face underneath the edge of the windshield, and drove into the snowstorm trying not to blink at the incoming flakes. It wasn’t easy. The windshield deflects everything, of course, but my mind is programmed to blink. The best I could do were a few hesitant half-blinks in the midst of the bombardment. Otherwise, the two hour drive from Cary made from some great car singing, as I went through about three cds of music.

It’s a winter wonderland.

In the grand tradition of championship‘s journal and incidentally, Mr. Rob Gordon, I am going to number my paragraphs. This in no way implies a descending order of greatness, just a little organization.

1. Work was hard. I arrived at 7 (got up at 6) on a Saturday to do spur-of-the-moment price changes that higher management implemented last week. Eh… It wouldn’t have been so bad except that I stayed up rather later than I should have last night. But the sacrifice of energy was worth it many times over. I’m just crashing tonight.

2. Finally got Paul’s car running. The transmission swap is complete, and after some minor electrical debugging, it cranked and ran fine. Just need to take care of the fact that the driver’s door doesn’t open from the inside… It’s not too fun to climb over the center console every time I need to get out of the car. Easy fix, though (especially with an identical car sitting in the driveway to cannibalize).

3. Driving home this afternoon from work, I had an epiphany concerning how great “Drowning Man” by U2 really is.

4. Spongebob is fun, but I think the prize for greatest random cartoon of all time must still go to Animaniacs. Man, I miss that show.

5. I want a road trip. 3+ months is too long without a good road trip. Hmm. I suppose all these hours at work are going to count for something. After some judicious budgeting, I might get my road trip soon enough. I know it’s bad, though, when I crack open the atlas just for kicks and purposefully read encyclopedia entries about other states and countries, skipping the intervening entries. Wait, I do that anyway. Yeah.

“John Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Army uniform, and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he didn’t, the girl with the rose.

“His interest in her had begun thirteen months before in a Florida library. Taking a book off the shelf he found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but with the notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind. In the front of the book, he discovered the previous owner’s name, Miss Hollis Maynell. With time and effort he located her address. She lived in New York City. He wrote her a letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond. The next day he was shipped overseas for service in World War II. During the next year and one month the two grew to know each other through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A romance was budding. Blanchard requested a photograph, but she refused. She felt that if he really cared, it wouldn’t matter what she looked like.

“When the day finally came for him to return from Europe, they scheduled their first meeting ­ 7:00 p.m. at the Grand Central Station in New York. ‘You’ll recognize me,’ she wrote, ‘by the red rose I’ll be wearing on my lapel.’

“So at 7:00 he was in the station looking for a girl whose heart he loved, but whose face he’d never seen.

“I’ll let Mr. Blanchard tell you what happened:

“‘A young woman was coming toward me, her figure long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she was like springtime come alive. I started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose. As I moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips. ‘Going my way, sailor?’ she murmured. Almost uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and then I saw Hollis Maynell.

“‘She was standing almost directly behind the girl. A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under a worn hat.. She was more than plump, her thick­ ankled feet thrust into low­ heeled shoes. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away. I felt as though I was split in two, so keen was my desire to follow her, and yet so deep was my longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned me and upheld my own.

“‘And there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and kindly twinkle. I did not hesitate. My fingers gripped the small worn blue leather copy of the book that was to identify me to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even better than love, a friendship for which I had been and must ever be grateful.

“‘I squared my shoulders and saluted and held out the book to the woman, even though while I spoke I felt choked by the bitterness of my disappointment. ‘I’m Lieutenant John Blanchard, and you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me; may I take you to dinner?’ The woman’s face broadened into a tolerant smile. ‘I don’t know what this is about, son,’ she answered, ‘but the young lady in the green suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test!’ It’s not difficult to admire Miss Maynell’s wisdom.’

“The true nature of a heart is seen in its response to the unattractive. ‘Tell me whom you love,’ Houssaye wrote, ‘And I will tell you who you are.'”

I really should be writing my Ephesians paper… It’s due tomorrow at 9 p.m. I have a few ideas, but nothing concrete yet. *sigh* Car group this morning was great… A bunch of guys showed, albeit late, and we worked on Tim and Matt’s car for a little bit. The four-barrel Holley carb is having issues with random fuel gushers all over the hot intake manifold, so we thought it best to just leave it alone and let them tinker with it at home. They have extra parts and theories as to why it was doing what it was doing, so, yeah… I taught about clutches and explained how the carburetors on the Datsun work. I just had to share those little marvels of engineering.

David’s play was last night. He was great. It’s a one-act that kind of chronicles a day in the life of a high school girl and the frustrations she goes through… Her desperation deteriorates to the point where she’s considering taking her life, but her grandmother talks her out of it by sharing her own experiences and sharing what it is that we do have to live for–Jesus Christ. It was poignant and powerful. David had a bit part as one of the “villains”–the jerk boyfriend who takes advantage of her. I’ll admit, it was a bit of jolt to my system to see him acting in that sort of role, but that in itself speaks of how well he did. He’s a talented kid.

Took the elevator to the top story of DH Hill library earlier tonight… I was looking for members of my church’s college group, but they were elusive. I was determined to revisit the ninth floor again, though, before I left. Stepping off the elevator onto the sterile floor, only my steps resonated through the silence tended by books all around. I could hear the hum of the air conditioners on the floor above me, and their monotony lent the experience a feeling not unlike that of being on an airplane. I walked up to the tall window and cupped my hands around my face to shut out the glare of the overhead lights. My nose touched the cold pane. The gloom of the dark rain gave the scene a glossy contrast, and I could see scattered windows glowing in the night and distant lights blinking through the mist. There was a street corner far below, illuminated by a single street light. Intermittently, cars would curl lazily around the edge of the corner, skishing around the curb, wipers giving a casual flap or two… They emerged from the night into the presence of the light and passed out into forgetfulness just as quickly. I thought about the street corner’s eternal present, destined to pour light into a lonely moment in the rain while many episodes of unknown life drove through unawares. But what could they have done? From their perspective the light was a momentary blessing; it would do neither them nor anything else good to stop, step out into the night, and praise the light, or even to stop at the corner and ponder the blessing in a thankful manner. It’s a trivial thing, really, but sometimes the off moments of life are brought into the light, those moments even the artists overlook and fail to magnify, and in that instant, the profoundly ordinary assumes worlds of hidden depth, and those times we consciously treasure are in turn lifted up even higher…

The get-together went great… We had such a good time. Donald, Leslie, and Pam came, and Paul hung out with us too. Pam even made an apple pie with special type of frosting for us as well. I had a piece, believe it or not, though I think the mass of it is lost among the throes of cookies that are residing in my stomach too. Leslie brought her pictures from Europe, where she was for the six months prior to a couple of weeks ago. She showed us photographs from Belfast, and from Scotland, as well as all over Scandinavia.

We’ll have to get together again, making more of an event of it this time. ‘Twas a fun evening.

Got to run the chipper/shredder today… Despite the fact that it was a mild testosterone rush to feed it leaves and yard waste and have it chew them up and spit their remains out quite unceremoniously, it was hard work. The machine won’t just accept the brush any old way, and the commotion it transmitted to my hands would have absolutely torn them up had I not been wearing gloves. I had a huge pile of mulch when all was said and done.

I’m enjoying life, all things considered. I have no romantic interests, just friends, and wonderful ones at that. The freedom that I feel is of equal relish to the sense of responsibility I feel when I’m in a relationship, that is to say, just because I feel unattached and slightly liberated doesn’t make the prospect of having someone else in my life unattractive; it’s just where I am now, and I’m living in it. In a lot of ways, with my newfound motivation, I feel the same sense of possibilities opening up before me as I did at the end of school a year ago, and with the coming of the Christmas season, the months ahead look very bright indeed. Good things are coming my way. God wants to do great things in and through me.

Sleep well, everyone.

Beth Orton’s “Don’t Need a Reason” is beautiful.

I love my friends. It was great to see Leslie again after her having been away for six months in Ireland. We’ll have to catch up this week sometime now that she’s likely de-jetlagged.

I want to room with Donald and Joe. I need to get out of the house. It’s not a frustration with my family–on the contrary, they’ve been more than wonderful. On my own, though, I would have much more motivation to be self-disciplined and really seek out opportunities. I want to find something cheap, and with Christian guys, however. Yes, those are prerequisites. I’ll call Donald about it tomorrow. I haven’t hung out with him in a while. I should–we get along famously when we do.

My car group went great yesterday in spite of the fact that only two guys showed, brothers. Everyone else was on a retreat or was grounded or at a football game or some such thing, so their excuses are legitimate, not that they just don’t like me :o) Tim and Matt came at 10 and I drove with them back to their house, where they have a pair of late-seventies Chevy Monte Carlos. Visualize a pimp car, and you will have the proper perspective. One of them, actually, is a convertible, painted a sparkly purple, and has the interior completely upholstered in a cushy blue fabric. Matt has said that everywhere he parks it Mexican guys just fall over each other making him offers for the car, in spite of its ratty condition… I can definitely see that happening. We had a great time getting the other one running, though. I’ll spare you the fascinating technical details, suffice it to say Tim was elated when it finally started and ran, even if it was dripping fuel on the intake manifold and exhaust was only coming out of one tailpipe and it blew a geyser of a backfire when we finally shut it off. It ran, and that was the point… He was hooting and hollering, and I could completely identify with him. For all you psychology majors out there, it was a classic male bonding moment :o) It was a good day.

Installment Two

Movie quote of the day:

“Now they will tremble again–at the sound of our silence.”

Name that movie!

The first installment, in no particular order

Reeeally tired. Loads to tell you all about this weekend, though. I attended an “Explore Workshop” in Chicago presented by a missionary sending agency called TEAM. The general theme of the attendees was that they were contemplating overseas missions in some way, and the point of the workshop was to give information on the whole scope of missionary life, but in an interactive way. I had the best time. God is amazing and awesome and, well… read Romans 8:28 :o)

I will tell all you wonderful people about it tomorrow. For now, goodnight.

Movie quote of the day:

“What can we do, Barnes? Put a man at the airport?”

Name that movie!

What a thoroughly gray day… I’ve almost got my trip to Chicago this weekend squared away. I just need to get this pastoral reference to someone, then I’ll be set. I’m really looking forward to it. I know it’s going to be helpful.

David came over earlier today so that we could tinker with our respective cars a bit. He’s the only other person I know who is as fanatically obsessive about car noises as I am. When they occur in my car, I’m like a man possessed. I have to hunt down the noise and put an end to it. It was good to hang out with him a bit and just chat.

My toe is turning colors from yesterday. Fortunately it’s my “ring toe” so it doesn’t affect movement too much, and I can still move it, so it’s not broken. It’s just a rather dark shade of violet and quite tender. I should probably ice it some.

Jammed my toe playing ultimate today at the church picnic… Otherwise it was great fun, even if I didn’t get to eat the first-place chili. I was full anyhow from a big lunch.

I’ve become re-addicted to Star Trek: TNG after discovering that TNN has Trek marathons pretty much every weeknight. I’ve even cracked open my Star Trek Encyclopedia again and thumb through it during commercial breaks and such. I knew cable TV would be our downfall. I’ve got to snap out of it… But at least it’s reasonably worthwhile programming, right?

To bed with me.

It’s late.

Someone else got the Sanford job I interviewed for a couple of weeks ago. They hired somebody that knew the interviewer, and someone who had Caterpillar experience. It’s all about who you know… *sigh*

I’m not as bummed out as I could be, though. David’s senior night soccer game was earlier this evening, and I made posters for both coaches composed of a collage of photos of all the seniors (“action shots”). It went over really well, which I was happy to see, something that only reaffirmed the sneaky suspicion that I may have a gift for this graphic design stuff. Maybe my standards aren’t high enough, or maybe they’re just right? I’ve never drawn a sketch in an industrial design setting that I’ve been really satisfied with, and neither am I totally secure in these 2D designs I put together, but I’m a lot more pleased with the way the graphic stuff turns out, which gives me confidence, which in turn leads to better designs and a motivation to press forward in my acquisition of knowledge. I can make stuff look good.

The song came and went
Like the times that we spent
Hiding out from the rain under the carnival tent
I laughed and she’d smile
It would last for awhile
You don’t know what you got till you lose it all again

Listen to the mandolin rain
Listen to the music on the lake
Listen to my heart break every time she runs away
Listen to the banjo wind
A sad song drifting low
Listen to the tears roll
Down my face as she turns to go

Bruce Hornsby — Mandolin Rain

We traveled quite a bit while we were in Europe. Living near Nice puts one close to many countries with architectural relics, works of art, and generally many areas very appealing for parents with an affinity for travel and a mind to expose their children to things they would only otherwise read about in books.

One such excursion took us south down the Italian peninsula to the little town of Sorrento, across the bay from the city of Naples, and very close to the Isle of Capri. Naples has a low shore, but as the coast curves around the bay, the edge of the land rises up into sheer cliffs dozens of feet off the surface of the water and rocky, the breaking edge of the earth covered by windswept trees and grasses farther up the hill from the water. Sorrento is perched on the edge of a cliff, a town assailed by tourists, to be sure, but effective in holding off most of the shameless pandering that other towns have succumbed to.

We stayed in a hotel situated on the edge, in other words, one of the faces of the building melded into the cliff, and from a distance on the water only balconies and windows distinguished the hotel from the surface of cliff below it. Quays and docks floated below, just behind a breakwater to keep the waves from overturning the small population of dinghies and assorted craft. We were on the second or third floor in the hotel, with two rooms, one facing inland, towards the town, and one with the most unabashedly beautiful of all views over the bay, towards Naples on the right, mount Vesuvius peering above the layer of smog that blanketed the city across the bay, and the Mediterranean on the left, the coastline winding away and out of sight. From the balcony one could see around the edge of the hotel, up the hill above the town.

During the day the view was of a nature that would make every beautiful chord of music well up within you and you approached the window, but at night, at night… The rest of my family was occupied in the other hotel room; I was alone, reading by the lamplight. I felt the breeze on my bare feet, and turned around to see the long white curtains, hung from the high doors, brush outward from the base, from the wind’s breath. I bookmarked my novel and stepped through the white sheets onto the balcony, and my hands curled around the painted wrought iron of the railing as I looked. The lights from Naples, across the bay, quivered through the invisible smog and lingering heat of the day, and the moon above shone an insubstantial path on the water far below. I could smell the faint salt, and hear the broken waves lapping against the hulls moored to the networks of quays. The breeze brushed through my hair again and again as I stood, my fingers working their way through the intricacies of the railing. I turned around to look up the hill, and though the bright moon illuminated branches here and there, small lights dotted the land as it curved both ways, south out of sight to my left, and around towards the city on my right.

The spectacle was complete, a momentary condensation, a portrait of the ancient world we lived in for many years. I admire natural beauty as well, but that time was unique, with the air, and the fabric of the curtains, and the sensations playing around the fingertips of my mind. I guard memories like that and nurture them with care, because they become me, and are all I really have from then, “Moments in time, like tears in the rain.”

Am I the only one who thinks the PFR song “Last Breath” absolutely rocks? The succession of chords at the end of the song is just great, solid rock, then the song dissolves and crashes into feedback and apocalyptic guitar wails, underscoring the message of the song. On the album, it melts into “Life Goes On,” no slouch of a song in itself. They’re just a great pair of overlooked songs.

The job rigamarole continues. While waiting to hear back from my original interviewer, I’ll be interviewing for another position in the same plant… If you look at the situation in just the right light, it’s almost like they’re fighting over me. Heh. Me and my delusions of grandeur… They’re “determined to put me to work somewhere,” (their words) though, so it’s nice to be appreciated.

Nannying is done. The kids’ mom and dad arrived safely last night after a 5-hour delay. They were exhausted. I was happy to make most of the conversation driving them home, as they appeared to be in that glazed-over-with-tiredness mood. Praise Him that they got in safely, though, with no mishaps other than the delay.

Good morning all. *hears echo from the multitudes (okay, four. maybe): “Good morning, Matt!”* The weekend was a lot of fun. Friday evening I attended a get-together for the college group from my church, a cookout by the pool of the leaders’ apartment complex. Donald’s really starting to become a good friend. He’s into bikes, whereas I’m into cars, but we share enough common mechanical knowledge to have great conversations. We went to a movie night at Luis’ apartment last night and commented on Tombstone the whole time. I think you know that your sense of humor lines up with someone else’s when you can rip on a movie in progress (not too often, mind you) and they actually laugh. In any case, the party on Friday night was great; even the mosquitoes enjoyed themselves.

Afterwards I drove two guys from my Saturday morning car group to a monthy meeting of the Mazda Sports Car Club of NC, whose name sounds more lofty and official than the actual turnout at the meeting would indicate. Nevertheless, Nick and Mike, after being slightly confused and thoroughly debunked in all their Fast and the Furious-related aspirations concerning cars, achieved a state of automotive nirvana when given rides in a member’s immaculate 3rd-generation RX-7. It was actually quite amusing to witness their transformation from smug Vin Diesels-in-training to knock-kneed, slack-jawed puddles of automotive ecstasy, overcome with the smooth brutality of the most desirable Mazda’s accelerative prowess. I had fun talking to the guys, too.

Saturday night was a hoot, but not on account of Elyse’s wonderful pasta dinner. A group of us watched a Chinese vampire movie, which, if you haven’t seen one, is enlightening in terms of the peculiar idiosycrasies the Chinese assign vampires, such as, they may only hop, feet together, in order to move, and placing a small piece of paper containing Chinese characters on their forhead will “deactivate” them (but of course some of them will still twitch). If this sounds messed up to you, you’re on track. In its favor, though, the movie did contain a good deal more than its more elemental American counterparts, namely some decent suspense, the obligatory martial arts, humor, a smattering of romance, and even some touching scenes playing up the virtues of family values, even among bloodthirsty vampires. ‘Twas fun. Thank you Elyse.

Yesterday Jake (6) and I had a Lego war, something I’ve not done in eons. After showing Jake our stash of boxes upon boxes of Legos, I became more engrossed than I had intended in the process of creating a worthy spacecraft. It had to be perfect, you see, bristling with weaponry while still maintaining the fragile aesthetic balance warships often have. Jake just slapped some Legos together, and I think got a little impatient with my singlemindedness. In any event, he won the war due to a brilliant sortie by his largest spacecraft, armed to the teeth with (what else?) 19 lightsaber-wielding Jedi knights perched on the wings, which (obviously) deflected any incoming laser bolts I fired, trying to stave off the imminent destruction of my base. It was a bit of a pyrrhic victory for him, though, as I had already destroyed his main base and was on my merry way to vanquish his “secret” one when the unfortunate encounter with his ship occurred. Next time, next time…

The bugs aren’t gone yet. I’m still waiting in fervent anticipation for that nice cold front that will decimate their population while daylight hours are still somewhat condusive to spending time outside or working on the car in the evening. Every once in a while I have to stop and take my seasonal bearings, usually in writing, since that’s when these things come out. The state fair is nearly upon us, too. Just a week or two before Philly cheese-steak and funnel cake bliss. And those big pumpkins, too, with the big blue ribbons on them. Yeah. Not to eat, though… Heavens no.

Jamin, Jordan, and Jake have gone to bed. Jake had a ride to soccer practice this evening, so my responsibilities as chauffeur were waived, and my evening was free. Nobody was at Strong’s, though, when I came, and I couldn’t for the life of me remember where the “discussion group” was meeting, so I just had a nice drive and trip to Lowes and Borders, Lowes to pick up some fasteners (I usually lose at least one during my big car projects), and Borders just to relax a bit. It didn’t work too well, so I returned and finished my book (Carry On, Mr. Bowditch). I’m going to sleep shortly.

Somewhere, the leaves are turning. Somewhere the plane of the sunrise is melted by the fire of the dawn. Sometimes, I…

My interview on Monday went great. Thank you all for your prayers… I’ll be hearing back probably within the next couple of days whether I got the job.

In the meantime, I’m nannying (au-pair-ing) for the children of a family in church whose parents are on a trip. The kids are very indepedent, and the house practically runs itself, but none of them have drivers licenses, so I’m there to provide rides, assist should a crisis arise, and to be there at night. Jake, who is 6, has been keeping me busy… We play “Guess Who” a lot.

The brownies on Sunday turned out great. I’m feeling keyed up and jittery for some reason today. It’s rather annoying, and not at all comfortable. At least the car has been reassembled (for the fiftieth time since I’ve owned it… *sigh* Maybe I should just leave it alone). It runs great… Just need to replace that funky alternator. This entry sucks. I’ll write more later.

Does this happen to any of you? You’re making brownies (or some other dessert of the chocolate and/or sticky variety) and you’re trying, say, to get the batter out of the mixing bowl into the pan, and there isn’t a clean spatula. So what do you do? You get a dinner knife and do the best you can to scrape the batter out. That doesn’t work too well, so you ditch the knife in favor of a small spoon. Of course, the spoon doesn’t have the required edge area necessary for proper batter scrapage, so you move to a bigger spoon. That works okay, but what you really needed what the darn spatula, and now you’ve dirtied three utensils when all you really needed to do the job was the one right one.

This happened to me with alarming frequency when I was living in Florida. Making an easy Mexican dinner or lunch, I’d sully a good three quarters of my flatware for no good reason other than I was just flailing about, trying things without thinking them through. I guess if you have enough utensils and a dishwasher, everything’s fine, right?

Gorgeous day. I have an interview tomorrow afternoon with a branch of Caterpillar, the construction company. They need a 3D computer modeler for the location which designs and builds the small “bobcat” front-end loaders. It’s a local job, and good money, which would enable me to see everyone around here on a fairly regular basis, pay off debts, save money, and take courses in preparation for missionary pilot school in 2003 or 2004. It’s a great opportunity, and I didn’t even have to seek it out. They contacted me, and have repeatedly taken the initiative to call me and keep me abreast of new developments in the hiring process, which I think is a good sign. Glory to Him for working everything out so far.

I’ll let you know how the brownies turn out :o)

I haven’t much to write in here, lately, much the same situation as a few months ago. Life continues, new possibilities open up, some doors close, and God is good. My muse is gone, though. It takes a lot for it to completely disappear, even from casual writing and journal entries and such. Inspiriation for poetry comes and goes with the inconstancy of a leaf’s shadow, but I can usually just sit and write prose. Je ne sais pas ce qui se passe…

What’s everyone listening to these days?

Juggling job possibilities at the moment… I have a secure, but interim job at GNC with the greatest boss in the world, Ed, another job that I’ve been hired for but haven’t started yet at a Mazda dealership working in the service department (i.e. mechanic), and the reason I haven’t started there yet: The third job possibility, a well-paying job at Caterpillar down in Sanford doing computer modeling. I’ve had to be as diplomatic as possible to all three parties, and it’s been difficult at times, but glory to Him that He’s holding it all together. The coolest part came earlier this evening, as I learned that my best friend is working with the very same Caterpillar plant in Sanford on his senior design project, so he knows many of the guys who work there. It would be amazing to be there and spend time with him more frequently, an antidote to the six months or so that I was in Florida, for sure. We’ll see what happens.

The second meeting of my car group is coming up this Saturday. I know guys will show up this time, as opposed to last weekend when my garage was woefully empty of activity. For some reason I’m more psyched about this time around than I was last week. It might just be my mood at the moment, or maybe last week I went through the preparations, kind of a rehersal, so this time I have less to worry about. I’m not sure.

I am surfing on the throw rug on the living room floor to the energetically hummed accompaniment of “Wipeout,” swaying wildly to the waves skittering across the hardwood floor, hanging ten as the occasion arises. Well, I’m not any more, but I was. I feel energetic tonight–don’t know why. Maybe because my younger brother won his HS soccer game 3-0 against probably their biggest conference foe? Maybe because my car group is starting up this Saturday? I’m not sure.

At least my cold has cleared up. I was able to yell a good bit at the soccer game and not simply pace around the bleachers like I did last game…

I feel good tonight. It might just be the bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream I had, but I’ll enjoy the moment regardless of the source.

Interview with a Mazda dealership tomorrow for a possible position in the service department. It’s at 9:30. Your prayers would be greatly appreciated :o)

Yes, yes, I need a nap. I know this. I’ve been ailing for several days, so this won’t be a pretty post.

Yesterday was incredibly busy in spite of the state of my immune system… I slept some in the morning, otherwise I’m sure I wouldn’t have made it through the rest of the day. I puttered around online, looking for job openings ’til just before lunch, then fixed the center brake light in our minivan, after which I ate lunch, made copious numbers of phone calls trying to get a bowling event organized and other matters straightened out, reinstalled the belt-driven fan on my car amidst much knuckle-scraping (those plastic fan blade edges are sharp), fought traffic over to Raleigh, where I met Paul, and reassembled the upper half of his car’s engine after investigating some valvetrain noise admist the mosquitoes, the sun, sweat, and my nose running like it does when I take a test, after which I drove to the dorm to pick up his stuff, then dropped him off in north Raleigh, fought traffic the rest of the way home, collapsed/ate dinner for 15 minutes (grilled catfish–yum), took a shower, then went bowling with some friends until late.

It takes a lot of hard work to get to the fun stuff, and when you get there, sometimes you realize that the fun stuff is just as much work as anything else. This is as insightful as this post is going to get this morning, so relish it. We had an eclectic group of people, but it was a lot of fun, especially during our second game when they turned on the blacklights and cranked the music. We’ll have to do it, or something like it, again.

New friends, new possibilities… Even in the midst of a momentary disappointment they rise again, undulating with the tenuous cloth of the present. The trials and upliftings of life interweave their coarse threads between the sleepy Tuesday afternoons and the radiant Friday mornings. My prophecy on Sunday pinpointed my situation and was of immense encouragement. God is so wonderful. I’m so thankful for His promises and His constancy.

I’ve decided I still like that car. I get frustrated at it when it’s not running right, kind of like one would get frustrated at their room for not being clean… There are different approaches to each end, of course, but I think the emotions resident as a result of them are related, at least. Even in spite of the alternator problems I’ve been having recently, I still really, really enjoy driving it. It is so effortless in everything that it does, turbine-smooth in the engine note, and absolutely serene on the highway, even in a downpour. The driver’s area is starting to look more and more like mission control for NASA, which I like, what with the re-addition of the air/fuel ratio gauge.

In other car news, I found out the cool techno song on the Mitsubishi Eclipse commercial is “Days Go By” by Dirty Vegas.

Drippy afternoon, at last. The rain falls like a mist sometimes, filtering the midday light like a gauzy film of droplets…

BT’s “Satellite” is a perfect soundtrack to such days.

I’m quite tired. Enough for a good, solid tired sigh, to be sure. *sigh* There we go.

Got up today at 6 to pray; didn’t go back to sleep this time, but went running with Erin, albeit for a short distance. We’re both getting back into our little fitness routines, though, so it’s perfectly understandable. I got home and had breakfast, and read the Word some, only to promptly conk out, and be woken by Mr. Cureton (Mike), my new mentor, call me on his cell phone and tell me he was waiting outside the house in his car… He runs a janitorial service to supplement the small income he receives from creating and heading up an organization in Chapel Hill to help out kids in the projects… I helped him clean an apartment today. It was great just to spend time with him. He’s an amazing man, with an incredible heart and enthusiasm… I learned a lot just by spending time with him, the main goal of the whole endeavor. He took me out to lunch afterwards and we talked theology over Hardee roast beef sandwiches. It was great. More later; we have company for dinner tonight.

More job hunting today… I have an interview at 3 with an art supply company in Raleigh which needs help doing website design and such. We’ll see how that goes.

There have been a number of subtle shifts in the framework of my outlook on life recently… Decisions that I’ve made and am carrying out, and new approaches to relationships. I’m happy, but eager for the job search to finally end. It will soon; I’m confident.

I’ve been getting up at 6 every morning to pray with my dad and see my brother David off to school. As hard as it is to pry my eyes open at that hour, it’s a blessing. And although I may feel less like I’m “on my own” than I did in Florida, I’ve met more wonderful people in the past few days than in the rest of the past six months. Relationships are great things, and I’m intent on pursuing them to the hilt.

The High Point job didn’t work out. Even though I think I wouldn’t have been as thrilled as I made out if I had gotten the job, it still hurts. I felt discouraged, and frustrated, and angry. It was especially acute this morning, but the emotion has lessened since.

I was a frustrated this morning since I got up rather late and found that every other person of driving age in the house had taken a car, leaving me with my two non-functional automobiles. I didn’t make it to church, but had a good time with God nevertheless. That’s the main reason the frustration and anxiousness has lessened. The Datsun needed some attentionn directed towards its brakes, and the Supra still needs a new alternator. Got the Datsun situation figured out this afternoon, so thank goodness that’s solved. Of course, it was just in time for the fan shroud to come loose and make the most awful racket as I was driving back from the gas station, where the price of air for the tires is now 50 cents, instead of being free, darn it. Well, there goes my patronage. Hmph.

Yeah, it’s one of those days.

“Your word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.” — Psalm 109:105

Yay for good days :o) My car is running again, thanks to the collaborative efforts of my dad and I, finding the loose battery connection. So yeah, it doesn’t need a new alternator (at least for the time being), just a new negative terminal clamp, much cheaper.

I got a call from the High Point job prospect today. I have an interview scheduled for tomorrow at 11:30… Please pray for me. My contact sounded very chipper and positive over the phone, but I think she always does. In any case, it’s a praise since the opening is still around and they’re interested in me. I’m psyched.

Also, I got a refund check today from the power company down in Florida, and it more than covers my last two bills, freeing me of at least one financial situation. There’s even enough money left over to pay for my trip to High Point tomorrow.

And I made some chicken noodle soup.

I’m back in North Carolina again. It’s so dry here. I’m amazed. I washed my car on Thursday afternoon and my dad about had a fit when he got back from work, saying that neighbors would report us, etc, etc… They take this water thing seriously, don’t they?

No job progress so far. I’ve been absolutely focused on moving this past week, and haven’t had time to really apply myself to that most pressing of tasks. I have an appointment at Piedmont Bible College on Monday, though, and I’m going to go talk to the Levolor people soon too. God is faithful, and good. Thank you all for your prayers :o)

Hey everyone, please pray for a dear friend of mine and her family. They’re going through a lot of stuff right now, so if you would lift them up in your prayers, especially the father and the mother… Thank you.

She’s right. Here I am, sitting in my room with the debris of the past six months around me. The past four and half years seem like such a waste, but I know they weren’t. God will pull things from those experiences that I’ll be able to use later on, and minister to other people. I can’t believe myself sometimes. I haven’t been able to see past the next month for as long as I can remember, and I even had myself convinced that I saw things far and wide. Well, reality check for Matt. I was about to be a window blind designer. *insert stream of expletives here*

I have talents, and skills, and abilities. I can take initiative; I have an analytical mind, and a decent amount of intelligence. And my God is bigger than this pathetic computer screen and apartment. He can accomplish miracles. I know what the desire of my heart is, and I’m going for it. Whatever it takes. Heh. I’m never going to have enough money anyway, but here I go.

This is it. This really is it.

Placid day (placiday?). At least the sun’s out again. No more downpours like yesterday’s, at least for a while. Perhaps the frogs will let me sleep tonight. Goodness knows my own mind deters sleep enough without their help. New record last night–a whopping two hours before I finally conked out. I don’t think my body likes my attempts to skew it back onto a reasonably normal sleep schedule. I will prevail in this matter. Discipline is the key. Well, that and being so tired after the day is through that you can’t help falling asleep in fifteen minutes. That helps too. So, no naps for me.

Many, many dreams last night. I was sleeping on the dream couch, so it was bound to happen. Automotive dreams, which I haven’t had in a while. There was one were I was very grateful to someone for someone for letting me have all the valve adjusting shims in his car’s engine’s cylinder head (something I need in real life, coincidentally). I just remember putting them all in a bag with some quarters (which they ressemble, being little metal disks), and then dropping the bag, and having to separate the shims from the quarters. In another part of the dream, I was at a concert of sorts… Oprah was hosting or something, and there was a tall, built gentleman (who looked not unlike Tim Robbins from a distance) guest perfoming. He wore a suit for the introduction, then put on a sort of 70’s glam-rock outfit for the performance. The stage props and scenery consisted of a giant fabric wind tunnel, all white, which was held up I don’t know how, but moved and swayed in the wind. Everyone at the concert was wearing a derivative of this wind tunnel prop by this point… White, billowy fabric… I acquired a hat fashioned out of the material, a sort of vertical tube that expanded to fit my head and made it look like I was wearing a nuclear power plant condensation tower… And my mom was at the door as we all left the concert, handing out Skittles to everyone. Yeah.

I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.
To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend
I woke up with a headache like my head against a board
Twice as cloudy as I’d been the night before
And I went in seeking clarity

No calls today. I feel like a hamster in an exercise wheel. Throw me something, people… Yay, nay… And I shouldn’t be like that. I am a talented professional. I have something that would add value to their company and their product line, whatever that may happen to be.

I wonder sometimes if I should just go back to school. I could work at GNC until I found another, more design-oriented job to pay the tuition bills. I want to work for another year, though, at least. Just work. My aunt Lucy was so encouraging over the phone, in spite of her obsession with my becoming a furniture designer. Maybe I should drive up and visit them for a little while. If nothing else it would make a nice road trip, and a good change of scenery. We’ll see. My brother Paul and some friends are coming down on Sunday or Monday to help me move. That will be good, both to have them down here and to move. See, right now I might as well be doing all my job hunting from a bunker in South Dakota. When I’m back up in NC, I can actually drive to places, present myself and my portfolio, and interact with people in person. And not that I won’t have a real sense of urgency and diligence about things, but I won’t have the move hanging over my head like I did here. That will help too. I still covet your prayers.

Well darkness has a hunger that’s insatiable
And lightness has a call that’s hard to hear…

It’s been taking me at least an hour to fall asleep lately. I really, really don’t like it. I start thinking about anything and everything, and for some reason, things that I can dismiss emotionally when I’m up and about play havoc with my feelings when I’m trying to fall asleep. I toss and I turn… Sometimes I really wish that I didn’t have to situate myself diagonally on the bed in order to really stretch out, but I do. And of course there’s a car alarm going off literally every five minutes all through the night (causing some of my neighbors to use a few colorful metaphors in its direction this morning), and either a weedwacker or a leafblower picked up where the car alarm left off (something with a high-pitched, two-stroke engine; that much is certain). I think I need to be really, seriously tired before I get in bed. That would help, I think.

I was getting really frustrated with the job hunt last night, but my patience is renewed this morning. I called my aunt Lucy in Boston yesterday evening, at least, and had a good long chat about lots of things, not least of which were job possibilities. She really wants me to go into furniture design for some reason, and seems to think that I can secure a job in that corner of industrial design without a single article of furniture in my portfolio and no significant woodworking projects as an undergrad. Granted, I did take a woodworking class, and I know my way around the shop fairly well, but still… One thing is certain, though–I need to start embellishing my portfolio. I can redo so many of the drawings, and make the general presentation so much more slick. And learn HTML, too… I do have that book. Today’s going to be a busy day; I can tell.

Wonderful church service this evening. Worship was awesome… They played some new songs, ones I hadn’t heard before, but that were really great. Picked up a sermon tape for my dad, too, the one that a guest speaker preached the Sunday that they visited.

The Supra got a routine wash and its biannual wax today. Waxing a car is a pain in the rear. I must’ve spent a good 2-3 hours out there. I tried to alternate arms so I wouldn’t end up terribly lopsided or something… Nah. My right arm was getting tired, though. It was kind of nice to be able to talk with all of my neighbors and watch people coming and going in the parking lot and around the pool. The car is shiny and smooth now. It’s going to need a new alternator soon, though. I get a good amount of bearing whine as the car idles right after startup, and it started overcharging momentarily a few times on the way home. Nothing serious, but I’d rather not have the alternator fail on me in the middle of nowhere.

I really hope I get a positive phone call tomorrow. I’m getting anxious about the end of the month approaching. Paul and his buddies are likely coming some time near the end of the week, though, so that will be fun. I need to start tying up loose ends, canceling utilites and such. It’s a bit sad, but I’m just moving on to different things. I won’t be here (meaning this limbo state) forever. God is faithful, and good. I was dwelling on my anxiety earlier this evening and worrying more than a bit about what’s to happen soon, which I don’t even know, and the Spirit brought to my mind 1 John 4:18, which says that perfect love drives out fear. It drives it out. Perfect love, His love, doesn’t just suppress fear, or whitewash it, or justify it, but drives it out completely. The verse is in the context of God’s judgement of everyone in the end times and relates to how we, as believers, don’t have to fear that judgement, being redeemed, but I think it applies to our everyday lives too, and the knowledge that God is with us, no matter what we’re going through, and that we don’t have to fear for our needs or for our future. That really spoke to me tonight. I’m very thankful.

Gotta flip the record over. Have a wonderful Monday, everyone :o)