Wow, it is warming up nicely here in beautiful Heidelberg, Germany. I couldn't tell you the exact temperature since my internal thermometer has never quite worked correctly after Iraq. I would guess it is in the eighties. It is a little warmer inside. I am using the Swope's computer up in their son's room, Keenan. I think that is how you spell it, but I can't say for sure; I have ever seen it written down, doesn't matter anyway.
There is a lot to say. I am obviously back from the British Islands. These last few days have been a whirlwind of activity as I try to settle in for another two-month stay. The Swope's have graciously put me up for this time. They are a wonderful family, very hospitable and generous. The hardest part about living here is my own personal inability to be served. I love serving others, but when someone serves me, I can't handle it. At least not real well.
I flew back to Germany and immediately jumped into MCYM. Club was last Wednesday. Seeing all the students who I met while in Slovakia was a great. MCYM is heading to Italy next month and I hope that I will be able to meet some new kids while there and also strength the previous relationships. We will see.
OK, this is really starting to bore me. I am in a bind because I do have a lot to say. I almost have too much to say and so I don't even know where to begin. It is like trying to sleep last night. After a day of hanging out in Trier and having a most enjoyable day with Jen and Megan, I got back a little late and was so tired I couldn't sleep. How does that happen? How can you be so tired that even sleeping takes to much energy?
Speaking of Trier, I will start there and hopefully work backwards. Yesterday was spent walking around the tourist city of Trier. It is an old walled city that the French, Romans, Germans, and probably Americans have had their hands in. The architecture has a very eclectic feel because of all the different influences. There is one old building, a protester's church, which has an obvious French addition. (I would should you pictures, but my camera is shot. The other day I had placed my man purse on a counter top and gravity did its thing. The bag with said camera inside came crashing to the tiled floor. I was more concerned about my computer that did the same and didn't even think about the camera until yesterday. I pulled it out to snap some photos and it wasn't working properly. The light sensor was out of whack because all the pictures came out really bright. I used my engineering background and proceeded to undue what the fall had apparently done. I figured that since a fall from about chest high to a tile floor caused the camera to break, maybe a fall from about chest high to a stone floor would fix it. It didn't. In fact, now the camera does not even turn on. It was time for a new camera anyway.) You can tell it is French because of the bright pink color and white trim. (I had some deprecating humor that I was going to add here, but I have chosen not to. Enough jokes have been made about the poor French bastards that they don't need me making any about their spines, or lack there of, their government, or as we call it, their patsy, or their…)
A lot of yesterday was spent shopping. Remember I went with two girls and you know how girls are. (Hey, I would deny it so don’t even try to tell anyone.) We also ate at this great Italian place and listened to some Native Americans playing beautiful music on the street.
I’m back. What? What do you mean, “Where did I go?” Oh yeah, you all can’t tell that everything written before this was done yesterday. I mentioned that I am using someone else’s computer. In the middle of typing out this blog, the screen went blank. Luckily, I was able to save that part of the blog and come back today to finish it. The large break in time between beginning and end reminds me of C.S. Lewis’s description of God and time.
He was describing how God is “outside” of time. Sort of like an author is in relation to a book they write. An author, like me, will sit down and pen a scene about a particular character. The scene may be written over a period of days, but the time in the story could be minutes. When the author stops writing, the character would appear to freeze until the next words are written. The story when complete, flows naturally, and the character never knows the breaks in the author’s day. Lewis describes God in a similar fashion. He is outside of time, which is why there is no beginning and end with God. It is also why He knows everything that we will do before we do it, because for God, every time is now. There is no past, just like there is no future. God does not travel from day to day as we do; He is everywhere all the time.
I have been gone, enjoyed the warm weather, an evening with some kids, and even The Return of the King, but to you, I never left. Because I did leave, I am not in the same writing mood as before. I will try my best to continue, but actually I won’t. Yesterday’s writing was boring even to me. Today too, I’m not feeling it, but I do want to get a few things out.
First is about prayer. Adam, thank you for your kind words about my life. I am glad that you see me like that because if you didn’t then there would be some serious issues in my life that I would need to deal with. There are anyway, but most people don’t see them. When I ask someone to pray for me, it isn’t because I feel their prayers are necessary for my peace or prosperity, or even to keep me from the offense the prayer is directed towards. Their prayers are however comforting. It means a lot to me to know that others are thinking about me and concerned for my well being. Also, I don’t exactly understand why, I have some guesses, but God calls us to pray. It is therefore beneficial to do so. I don’t completely get it. I was saying earlier about God being every where all the time, so it does, in one sense, seem pointless to talk to God and make requests of Him because He already knows what I am going to say and has probably figured out a solution before I even know a problem exists. Regardless, He still calls me to pray. One of my guesses in answering the why is because prayer may have something to do with benefiting me and others in that God uses it changes us, maybe?
Other note worthy events have been with teenagers. If I didn’t mention it before, this next two months will be spent volunteering with MCYM. (I did mention it, in this blog in fact.) Because my time will be spent with them, most of what you will be hearing from me will concern them. I went to see Star Wars III with kids. It is sooooo much better than the first two; it almost makes up for those sad films. The part I enjoyed the most was how Lucas began to transform everything so that you can see how “A New Hope” becomes. The characterizations, Vader and all that are one thing, but I was really concerned about all the aircraft and machinery. I am sure that everyone watched Episode I and said, “Those ships are so sleek and smooth, they seem to me that they shouldn’t precede the X-wing and Tie fighter.” Me too. The yellow fighter craft from Naboo are the best example. I was worried that Lucas wouldn’t do anything about that. But he did. You could look at the ships in “Revenge of the Sith” and see how they began the transformation to the X-wing, Y-wing, Tie fighter, and blockade runners of my youth. Major peeps out to George for doing a good job.
I got to run and I want to get this out so I am going to have to cut it short. I want anyone to know that you can call me if you would like. My cell phone is: 011 49 160 9272 6262. Dial all those numbers and you should reach me. I won’t talk for long, but we can chat a bit.
I just thought of a couple things I want to mention, they are about the Heidelberg Castle and the German culture. Not today though.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Monday, May 30, 2005
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Day 77: More on Blue Like Jazz
I am 25 minutes into a 15 minute computer session. This will be brief.
Here is the website for Blue Like Jazz.
It really is a great book. I am now in Heidelberg and I really need to get off the computer. Today was Club with MCYM. Middle School was at 1600 and High School is 1900.
Later
Unitl then and tomorrow.
Jason
Here is the website for Blue Like Jazz.
It really is a great book. I am now in Heidelberg and I really need to get off the computer. Today was Club with MCYM. Middle School was at 1600 and High School is 1900.
Later
Unitl then and tomorrow.
Jason
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Day 76: YESSSSSSS!!!!!
OK, I am currently in the process of up-loading a whole bunch of pictures to my website. So now you should be able to go the "expect me" page and look up some of the recent places I have been.
And now you can. I have in fact, finally up dated my website. Not completely because I don't have the UK or Ireland on there, but these many pictures should take you a while to download and that will give me time to get the other pages ready.
Enjoy!
Also, I did talk to the two people sitting next to me on the train today. Chris and Alice. They work for the UK school system teaching teachers how to teach a new citizenship program. It is for grade school through primary school kids. The three of us talked for a good two or three hours about everything: Politics, religion, schools, government.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
PS My postings were posted out of order so make sure you read both of Day 72.
And now you can. I have in fact, finally up dated my website. Not completely because I don't have the UK or Ireland on there, but these many pictures should take you a while to download and that will give me time to get the other pages ready.
Enjoy!
Also, I did talk to the two people sitting next to me on the train today. Chris and Alice. They work for the UK school system teaching teachers how to teach a new citizenship program. It is for grade school through primary school kids. The three of us talked for a good two or three hours about everything: Politics, religion, schools, government.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
PS My postings were posted out of order so make sure you read both of Day 72.
Monday, May 23, 2005
Day 75: Wear Sunscreen!
Something tells me that I am about to repeat myself. Repeating yourself is a sign of old age, and I am getting old. My dad repeats himself a lot. Or not really repeats himself as much as talks about the same subject time after time. But that isn’t my point. My point is that I feel like I am starting to repeat myself. I think repeating yourself isn’t caused by getting old as much as it is loosing your memory. Loosing your memory means you don’t know if you have said something or not and so you say it again just to make sure, or you don’t remember saying it in the first place so you just talk about what is on your mind and it happens to be the same thing that was on your mind yesterday, but you don’t remember.
Does anybody remember the song by Baz Luhrmann, “Wear Sunscreen”? It was a remake of an article written by Mary Schmich as if she had been asked to speak at a college graduation. It is a good song and I think about quotes from it often. Just in case you don’t remember, here are the words:
Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.
Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen.
I am sitting on the Flying Scotsman train from Edinburgh to London. It is a seven hour ride and so there is time to kill. The train has outlets that you can plug a computer in which means I am able to use my computer. (I made it back to St. Andrews and picked up my adapter and battery charger.) In using my computer, I was organizing old emails and rereading some of them.
This brings me to the song. Line 11 states, “Keep your old love letters. Throw away old bank statements.” I have taken that advice. It is actually pretty easy since the advent of the computer, Internet, and email. So I am organizing old emails and I come across some old, but unsent, love letters that I wrote.
(I have to pause for a moment because the train is paralleling the Scottish coast and so I have an opportunity to peer out on the North Sea.)
Beautiful, but I will talk about that in a moment.
Reading through the old letters, I was reminded of some things, a lot of things. It is good advice to keep your old love letters because they can, if it was a positive relationship, remind you of ways that you grew as a person. If it was a bad relationship then it reminds you of mistakes that you made and again ways that you grew as a person. Either way, you grew. A friend of mine from college made this statement, “Character is inevitable. You can’t help but build character.” He was saying that in any situation, any one at all, you always build some sort of character. Good situations, bad situations, you always build character. Some situations build more than others, but in all situations you are building character. And he wasn’t meaning that that is always good character. Some situations build bad character in a person, but always character.
Using that logic, you can call a relationship a situation and know that all relationships build character in a person. I know that my character has been built significantly through my few female relationships and I am happy for each one. (Now, I have to be careful, because I know that this is going to be read by at least one of those past relationships. I am going to be honest up front and tell you that I am holding back some of what I would say if that wasn’t the case. I normally wouldn’t do that, but in this situation I want to protect the innocent and myself, the guilty.)
The most recent love letter was from a few months ago. It was spurred by my reading of “Blue Like Jazz”. I mentioned the book in my last post and I think that is what brought me around in a big circle to the here and now of writing about it again. BLJ was written by Don Miller. Its subtitle is something about Christian Spirituality. Don is a thirty something dude that lives in Portland, OR. He grew up in the “Christian” church, but became turned off by the whole religion thing because of how fake he became. I think he went to bible school or something, because in his twenties he was a major Christian youth speaker. He did that for a few years but quit because he realized that he was the biggest fake out there. After a few years of searching, he found Jesus.
His book speaks a lot to me. I can really relate to the author’s life, especially the part about feeling fake. All through high school and college, I was fake. The last six years have been the start of my journey, like Don’s, in finding Jesus. It has been an amazing journey. I love the mountains and my journey is no different than a hike through the mountains, incredible highs and murky lows. My journey started with a big high, meeting an awesome girl, followed by an intense low, being rejected by the same. Oh the hours I could spend writing about that, but I won’t. I will tell you about a more recent leg of that journey. Back to the love letter.
I was recently past a short dating relationship. In my normal retrospective self, I spent hours and hours thinking about, dwelling on, and holding fictitious conversations with the ex. Having recently discovered the art of writing things down, that email was one of those conversations. If you can’t tell, I like writing, at least now. Typing is especially enjoyable because I do it much faster and afterwards I can actually reread it and not be utterly confused by my own handwriting. In my conversation, I was talking about a part in BLJ that I had just read. This is part of what I said:
The author, like me, isn’t, or at least at the time wasn’t, married and he, like me, was completely blown away by the idea that you don’t even know your spouse completely. But now I get it. Our goal in life should be to know God fully. God’s goal in our lives is for us to know Him fully. When He sent Jesus down here, it was, among a lot of other things, so that we could know Him more. Know Jesus and you know the Father. Jesus said that! It is in the bible!
Everything that we do, every relationship, every job, every activity, every moment of the day should be done with the desire to know God more. In fact, if you are doing something without that desire, then chances are you are sinning. (Sorry, the big nasty sin word came out, but there isn’t a better option) Chances are you are rebelling against the Creator. I know this because most of my life and actions up to this point have been in rebellion. I know it is rebellion because I am the one doing it. But the times I am not in rebellion, those times are great.
A few months ago, I was getting to know Jesus so much more than ever before. A lot of it was because of that past relationship, the one referenced in the love letter. I was seeking Christ everyday because of it. I was so confused and distraught back then that all I had to turn to was Christ. I would ask Him all sorts of things about why the things that were happening were, and why they weren’t turning out the way I wanted them too. He kept showing me time and time again who He was and how my desires were all wrong. I desired something good, but not something best. He is best; everything else is a distant, been lapped about a million times, second. One of those things that He was showing me was how He uses other people to reveal Himself. That goes back to the quote about marriage.
Marriage and relationships are good things, but if they help you know Jesus more, then they become best things. When I made that connection all those months ago, January to be exact, I made the realization that marriage was good and feasible. Practically today, marriage is of less importance, but the idea is still valid. That connection has helped me to love people more. Jesus calls us to love another. That has always been a difficult task for me because I generally don’t like people. I really like being alone. I used to put up with people because this earth is full of them. As I grew, I went from putting up with them to more embracing them in a hands extended, arms straight, junior high, boy/girl hug kind of way. Now I am in the process of really learning to like people because I love them. Like them so much that I am truly interested in their lives. I am starting to care about them and their situations and their issues and needs and desires.
This bit of traveling has been part of that learning process. I can’t tell you how many times on this trip I have just wanted to isolate myself and not talk to or interact with any people. When that desire comes, some of the time I over ride it and step out and converse. I have even gone as far as to have a whole series of conversations with the same person. I am even going to look some of those new friends up when I get to Heidelberg. That is a big step, but I still have a long ways to go because many times on this trip, I haven’t done that. I have sat next to some dude or chick and not said a word while I kept telling myself, “Say something, say something, idiot, just say something. Start with hi.” As I berate myself, time ticks by and it becomes harder and harder to say anything. And then I just don’t say anything. (Like right now as I sit next to two people and not say a word) I am not sure if I am getting better or worse, but at least I am building character.
Yeah, so this blog has become rather lengthy. Part of it is not my fault, it was a long song, but regardless I need to wrap it up. Hopefully I will get around to actually describing the trip itself and not just my thoughts. It has been a beautiful trip and Scotland is wonderful.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Does anybody remember the song by Baz Luhrmann, “Wear Sunscreen”? It was a remake of an article written by Mary Schmich as if she had been asked to speak at a college graduation. It is a good song and I think about quotes from it often. Just in case you don’t remember, here are the words:
Respect your elders.Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '97:
Wear sunscreen.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.
Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing every day that scares you.
Sing.
Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.
Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.
Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.
Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.
Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.
Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.
Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.
Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.
Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen.
I am sitting on the Flying Scotsman train from Edinburgh to London. It is a seven hour ride and so there is time to kill. The train has outlets that you can plug a computer in which means I am able to use my computer. (I made it back to St. Andrews and picked up my adapter and battery charger.) In using my computer, I was organizing old emails and rereading some of them.
This brings me to the song. Line 11 states, “Keep your old love letters. Throw away old bank statements.” I have taken that advice. It is actually pretty easy since the advent of the computer, Internet, and email. So I am organizing old emails and I come across some old, but unsent, love letters that I wrote.
(I have to pause for a moment because the train is paralleling the Scottish coast and so I have an opportunity to peer out on the North Sea.)
Beautiful, but I will talk about that in a moment.
Reading through the old letters, I was reminded of some things, a lot of things. It is good advice to keep your old love letters because they can, if it was a positive relationship, remind you of ways that you grew as a person. If it was a bad relationship then it reminds you of mistakes that you made and again ways that you grew as a person. Either way, you grew. A friend of mine from college made this statement, “Character is inevitable. You can’t help but build character.” He was saying that in any situation, any one at all, you always build some sort of character. Good situations, bad situations, you always build character. Some situations build more than others, but in all situations you are building character. And he wasn’t meaning that that is always good character. Some situations build bad character in a person, but always character.
Using that logic, you can call a relationship a situation and know that all relationships build character in a person. I know that my character has been built significantly through my few female relationships and I am happy for each one. (Now, I have to be careful, because I know that this is going to be read by at least one of those past relationships. I am going to be honest up front and tell you that I am holding back some of what I would say if that wasn’t the case. I normally wouldn’t do that, but in this situation I want to protect the innocent and myself, the guilty.)
The most recent love letter was from a few months ago. It was spurred by my reading of “Blue Like Jazz”. I mentioned the book in my last post and I think that is what brought me around in a big circle to the here and now of writing about it again. BLJ was written by Don Miller. Its subtitle is something about Christian Spirituality. Don is a thirty something dude that lives in Portland, OR. He grew up in the “Christian” church, but became turned off by the whole religion thing because of how fake he became. I think he went to bible school or something, because in his twenties he was a major Christian youth speaker. He did that for a few years but quit because he realized that he was the biggest fake out there. After a few years of searching, he found Jesus.
His book speaks a lot to me. I can really relate to the author’s life, especially the part about feeling fake. All through high school and college, I was fake. The last six years have been the start of my journey, like Don’s, in finding Jesus. It has been an amazing journey. I love the mountains and my journey is no different than a hike through the mountains, incredible highs and murky lows. My journey started with a big high, meeting an awesome girl, followed by an intense low, being rejected by the same. Oh the hours I could spend writing about that, but I won’t. I will tell you about a more recent leg of that journey. Back to the love letter.
I was recently past a short dating relationship. In my normal retrospective self, I spent hours and hours thinking about, dwelling on, and holding fictitious conversations with the ex. Having recently discovered the art of writing things down, that email was one of those conversations. If you can’t tell, I like writing, at least now. Typing is especially enjoyable because I do it much faster and afterwards I can actually reread it and not be utterly confused by my own handwriting. In my conversation, I was talking about a part in BLJ that I had just read. This is part of what I said:
“See, girls are an enigma to me. I see them, and talk to them, and read about them but still, I don't get them. But maybe that is the thing; we are not supposed to get each other. One of the guys in this book (Blue Like Jazz) is married and he and the author were talking about marriage and the ups and downs. The married guy said that marriage isn't what he expected. Still wonderful, but not what he expected. He was expecting it to be a union of two people that would know each other completely and be completely open and honest and real with each other. He said that wasn't the case. Oh, his wife knew him better than anyone else in this world, but still there were things he kept from her, things that only God knew and would only ever know. I wonder if this is why Jesus says we are not going to be married in heaven. Here on earth, marriage is fine because it helps us see God more clearly. Marriage helps us selfish humans to be selfless, or at least a little more selfless, it helps us to think of others before ourselves and to love unconditionally. We don't, love unconditionally that it, but still, a marriage is a better place to try than any other. So, God gives us marriage to teach us a little more about Himself.”
The author, like me, isn’t, or at least at the time wasn’t, married and he, like me, was completely blown away by the idea that you don’t even know your spouse completely. But now I get it. Our goal in life should be to know God fully. God’s goal in our lives is for us to know Him fully. When He sent Jesus down here, it was, among a lot of other things, so that we could know Him more. Know Jesus and you know the Father. Jesus said that! It is in the bible!
Everything that we do, every relationship, every job, every activity, every moment of the day should be done with the desire to know God more. In fact, if you are doing something without that desire, then chances are you are sinning. (Sorry, the big nasty sin word came out, but there isn’t a better option) Chances are you are rebelling against the Creator. I know this because most of my life and actions up to this point have been in rebellion. I know it is rebellion because I am the one doing it. But the times I am not in rebellion, those times are great.
A few months ago, I was getting to know Jesus so much more than ever before. A lot of it was because of that past relationship, the one referenced in the love letter. I was seeking Christ everyday because of it. I was so confused and distraught back then that all I had to turn to was Christ. I would ask Him all sorts of things about why the things that were happening were, and why they weren’t turning out the way I wanted them too. He kept showing me time and time again who He was and how my desires were all wrong. I desired something good, but not something best. He is best; everything else is a distant, been lapped about a million times, second. One of those things that He was showing me was how He uses other people to reveal Himself. That goes back to the quote about marriage.
Marriage and relationships are good things, but if they help you know Jesus more, then they become best things. When I made that connection all those months ago, January to be exact, I made the realization that marriage was good and feasible. Practically today, marriage is of less importance, but the idea is still valid. That connection has helped me to love people more. Jesus calls us to love another. That has always been a difficult task for me because I generally don’t like people. I really like being alone. I used to put up with people because this earth is full of them. As I grew, I went from putting up with them to more embracing them in a hands extended, arms straight, junior high, boy/girl hug kind of way. Now I am in the process of really learning to like people because I love them. Like them so much that I am truly interested in their lives. I am starting to care about them and their situations and their issues and needs and desires.
This bit of traveling has been part of that learning process. I can’t tell you how many times on this trip I have just wanted to isolate myself and not talk to or interact with any people. When that desire comes, some of the time I over ride it and step out and converse. I have even gone as far as to have a whole series of conversations with the same person. I am even going to look some of those new friends up when I get to Heidelberg. That is a big step, but I still have a long ways to go because many times on this trip, I haven’t done that. I have sat next to some dude or chick and not said a word while I kept telling myself, “Say something, say something, idiot, just say something. Start with hi.” As I berate myself, time ticks by and it becomes harder and harder to say anything. And then I just don’t say anything. (Like right now as I sit next to two people and not say a word) I am not sure if I am getting better or worse, but at least I am building character.
Yeah, so this blog has become rather lengthy. Part of it is not my fault, it was a long song, but regardless I need to wrap it up. Hopefully I will get around to actually describing the trip itself and not just my thoughts. It has been a beautiful trip and Scotland is wonderful.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Saturday, May 21, 2005
Day 73: Blue like Jazz
I wasn’t going to write anything tonight, but then I realized that today has been a very unique day. Today has been a down day. After 72 days of fun and joy and excitement, I have now had a down day. I wasn’t going to write for just that reason. I really didn’t feel up to saying anything, but then that is when I most need to say something.
Today’s downness started yesterday and the day began on a bad foot early. I stayed up too late. I didn’t go to bed until 0130 this morning. If I had a good reason, that hour wouldn’t be anything to talk about, but I stayed up watching TV. TV of all things. I hate TV, but am seriously addicted to it. I don’t own a TV, don’t like them around, but if one is around then I will watch it. It is stupid I know, but that is one of my many faults. And it isn’t like I watch anything interesting or informative. In fact, I spend most of my time watching nothing, just endless hours of channel surfing because there is never anything on. It really is stupid and that is why I hate it so much.
So, I stayed up late then got up relatively early and really tired. I fixed a good breakfast, hash browns, sausage, and eggs over medium. Everything had cheese smothering it. It was a good breakfast. That was the up side of the day. When the best part of a day is over by 0900, know it is going to be a bad day. The plan was to leave St. Andrews and make it up to the Orkney Islands for a couple days before heading back to London and then Germany. I figured it was a short train ride up to the islands so I didn’t rush out of town. The Post Office was selling a phone card that had free calls back to the States on Saturdays. I picked one of those up and some stamps. Then it was off to the library for a quick email. The last thing I wanted to do was buy some post cards and walk by the Old Course one last time. I did all that, though the post cards I wanted could only be found on the other side of town. That was a little discouraging.
It was noon before I finally make it to the train station. I enquire of the ticket guy about a train to Thurso and discover at that point that I am not going to make it to the Islands. That was depressing because I was really looking forward to them. Tonight I am staying in Thurso itself and practically speaking going to the islands is just not going to work. But back in St. Andrews, I am now looking at about 9 hours of traveling. I didn’t mind because it was an opportunity to catch up on sleep, writing, post cards, reading the bible, and a myriad of other things that had been neglected. Before the first train, a call to the parents is in order. The free call back to the states means that I should be able to talk with them during all my stops. I was excited about that. But 20 minutes into the first call, the phone card runs out of time. What I didn’t know was that the stupid pay phones I had access to charge me money and nullify the free call. I was so looking forward to talking with my parents; instead I lose 5 pounds and only get 20 minutes of talk time. Again, I am depressed.
On the train, I am planning on writing some post cards and also getting on my laptop for some extra writing. It was to work out fine because the trains have a place I can plug my computer in so I don’t have to run off of the battery. Sometime into the train ride, I go to pull my computer out and realize that I left the plug adapter back at the last hostel. Attached to the plug adapter is my camera’s battery charger and battery. Great, one more thing left behind, this one essential and irreplaceable. More depressed. I am now thinking about how I have to go back to St. Andrew in the next couple days to get it, which means I have to leave that much earlier; I am not going to the Orkney Islands now for sure; I am being stupid and leaving stuff behind; for a short time I thought I had left my jacket on a previous train. Remember that my jacket carries all my identification and money. (Maybe I should think about putting that stuff somewhere else?) I am tired, hungry, confused, missing my parents, lonely, and just plan depressed. This is a bad day. And it is only the afternoon.
The train pulls into Thurso at 2100. It is a short walk to the hostel and I sign in for my room. Considering my new timeline, it makes sense to just stay here for two nights and then leave early on the 23rd. Sure, but this hostel is booked for tomorrow night. I will now be getting up early again to check out and find another place to stay when all I really want to do is go home. More depressed. Lastly, I do find a phone that allows me to call the states for free. I call and talk with my dad. Normally, that would be a very up lifting time, but dad is having some issues so he and I talk about them and the whole conversation is just more depressing for me.
It is late and I am sitting in bed, typing this out on my computer that is powered by the ever diminishing battery. I am really tired. On top of everything else about today that was depressing, the biggest thing that I left out was that my soul has a weight of sin on it. The sin is the real issue about today’s depression. I left the sin part out because I just don’t know all of you that well, but now it is out there and that is that. I am not going to tell you what the sin is, but feel free to pray for me regardless. Hopefully by the time I actually get this to the web this weight will have passed, but regardless you can still pray.
Thanks
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
PS If I haven’t talked about “Blue Like Jazz”, by Don Miller, I need to because it is a great book. I will, but mostly you all just need to read it.
Today’s downness started yesterday and the day began on a bad foot early. I stayed up too late. I didn’t go to bed until 0130 this morning. If I had a good reason, that hour wouldn’t be anything to talk about, but I stayed up watching TV. TV of all things. I hate TV, but am seriously addicted to it. I don’t own a TV, don’t like them around, but if one is around then I will watch it. It is stupid I know, but that is one of my many faults. And it isn’t like I watch anything interesting or informative. In fact, I spend most of my time watching nothing, just endless hours of channel surfing because there is never anything on. It really is stupid and that is why I hate it so much.
So, I stayed up late then got up relatively early and really tired. I fixed a good breakfast, hash browns, sausage, and eggs over medium. Everything had cheese smothering it. It was a good breakfast. That was the up side of the day. When the best part of a day is over by 0900, know it is going to be a bad day. The plan was to leave St. Andrews and make it up to the Orkney Islands for a couple days before heading back to London and then Germany. I figured it was a short train ride up to the islands so I didn’t rush out of town. The Post Office was selling a phone card that had free calls back to the States on Saturdays. I picked one of those up and some stamps. Then it was off to the library for a quick email. The last thing I wanted to do was buy some post cards and walk by the Old Course one last time. I did all that, though the post cards I wanted could only be found on the other side of town. That was a little discouraging.
It was noon before I finally make it to the train station. I enquire of the ticket guy about a train to Thurso and discover at that point that I am not going to make it to the Islands. That was depressing because I was really looking forward to them. Tonight I am staying in Thurso itself and practically speaking going to the islands is just not going to work. But back in St. Andrews, I am now looking at about 9 hours of traveling. I didn’t mind because it was an opportunity to catch up on sleep, writing, post cards, reading the bible, and a myriad of other things that had been neglected. Before the first train, a call to the parents is in order. The free call back to the states means that I should be able to talk with them during all my stops. I was excited about that. But 20 minutes into the first call, the phone card runs out of time. What I didn’t know was that the stupid pay phones I had access to charge me money and nullify the free call. I was so looking forward to talking with my parents; instead I lose 5 pounds and only get 20 minutes of talk time. Again, I am depressed.
On the train, I am planning on writing some post cards and also getting on my laptop for some extra writing. It was to work out fine because the trains have a place I can plug my computer in so I don’t have to run off of the battery. Sometime into the train ride, I go to pull my computer out and realize that I left the plug adapter back at the last hostel. Attached to the plug adapter is my camera’s battery charger and battery. Great, one more thing left behind, this one essential and irreplaceable. More depressed. I am now thinking about how I have to go back to St. Andrew in the next couple days to get it, which means I have to leave that much earlier; I am not going to the Orkney Islands now for sure; I am being stupid and leaving stuff behind; for a short time I thought I had left my jacket on a previous train. Remember that my jacket carries all my identification and money. (Maybe I should think about putting that stuff somewhere else?) I am tired, hungry, confused, missing my parents, lonely, and just plan depressed. This is a bad day. And it is only the afternoon.
The train pulls into Thurso at 2100. It is a short walk to the hostel and I sign in for my room. Considering my new timeline, it makes sense to just stay here for two nights and then leave early on the 23rd. Sure, but this hostel is booked for tomorrow night. I will now be getting up early again to check out and find another place to stay when all I really want to do is go home. More depressed. Lastly, I do find a phone that allows me to call the states for free. I call and talk with my dad. Normally, that would be a very up lifting time, but dad is having some issues so he and I talk about them and the whole conversation is just more depressing for me.
It is late and I am sitting in bed, typing this out on my computer that is powered by the ever diminishing battery. I am really tired. On top of everything else about today that was depressing, the biggest thing that I left out was that my soul has a weight of sin on it. The sin is the real issue about today’s depression. I left the sin part out because I just don’t know all of you that well, but now it is out there and that is that. I am not going to tell you what the sin is, but feel free to pray for me regardless. Hopefully by the time I actually get this to the web this weight will have passed, but regardless you can still pray.
Thanks
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
PS If I haven’t talked about “Blue Like Jazz”, by Don Miller, I need to because it is a great book. I will, but mostly you all just need to read it.
Friday, May 20, 2005
Real quick, I am not going to get to email anyway
Below is apparently the book I am. The description it good, but I do know what camp I am in. Actually it is whose camp I am in: Jesus!
You're Siddhartha!
by Hermann Hesse
You simply don't know what to believe, but you're willing to try
anything once. Western values, Eastern values, hedonism and minimalism, you've spent
some time in every camp. But you still don't have any idea what camp you belong in.
This makes you an individualist of the highest order, but also really lonely. It's
time to chill out under a tree. And realize that at least you believe in
ferries.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
Day 72: Administration
There are a few administrative things that I have to cover before I can continue.
1. The key boards over here in Europe are a little different than the standard US ones. The biggest thing that I have noticed is that the Enter key is smaller. It doesn't do the normal backwards L shape so when I reach with my right pink to hit return, all I get is this: # No enter, just the number sign. Also, the @ symbol is not above the 2 it is next to the # which is in the place of the "enter". The " are also where the @ should be. (I just had to get that out. It didn't have anything to do with the admin stuff)
2. For those that care, I can't post any pictures just yet because I haven't been at a computer that I could up-load files too. Back in Germany, there was one, but I was too lazy, sorry. I promise when I get back to Germany, I will be diligent about doing that. Also, Adam, I don't know what is up with my computer, I am trying to use Dreamweaver to upload new stuff to my website, but it wouldn't connect, something about a FTP failure. I will try to figure it out when I get back to Germany in a few days. I may have to just download an FTP program and upload my pages by hand. What do you recommend again?
3. I am at a computer which only has 30 minutes remaining. I am about 50 emails behind, so be patient and I will catch up. (Yes, I know that is not the right patient, but give me a break)#
4. I have a long post about yesterday, but again, I can't get it to the Internet so it will just have to wait. A preview is that I played golf at St. Andrews yesterday. It was glorious. For those that don't know golf it will not mean anything, but for those that do, Dad, it was great. We will be going there eventually.
5. That is about it. Now I am going to try and get to a couple emails.
Until then and tomorrow.##
Jason
PS 22 mintutes remaining
1. The key boards over here in Europe are a little different than the standard US ones. The biggest thing that I have noticed is that the Enter key is smaller. It doesn't do the normal backwards L shape so when I reach with my right pink to hit return, all I get is this: # No enter, just the number sign. Also, the @ symbol is not above the 2 it is next to the # which is in the place of the "enter". The " are also where the @ should be. (I just had to get that out. It didn't have anything to do with the admin stuff)
2. For those that care, I can't post any pictures just yet because I haven't been at a computer that I could up-load files too. Back in Germany, there was one, but I was too lazy, sorry. I promise when I get back to Germany, I will be diligent about doing that. Also, Adam, I don't know what is up with my computer, I am trying to use Dreamweaver to upload new stuff to my website, but it wouldn't connect, something about a FTP failure. I will try to figure it out when I get back to Germany in a few days. I may have to just download an FTP program and upload my pages by hand. What do you recommend again?
3. I am at a computer which only has 30 minutes remaining. I am about 50 emails behind, so be patient and I will catch up. (Yes, I know that is not the right patient, but give me a break)#
4. I have a long post about yesterday, but again, I can't get it to the Internet so it will just have to wait. A preview is that I played golf at St. Andrews yesterday. It was glorious. For those that don't know golf it will not mean anything, but for those that do, Dad, it was great. We will be going there eventually.
5. That is about it. Now I am going to try and get to a couple emails.
Until then and tomorrow.##
Jason
PS 22 mintutes remaining
Day 72:Royal and Ancient, and Expensive
Would you like to see a city given over,
Soul and body to a tyrannising game?
If you would, there’s little need to be a rover,
For St. Andrews is the abject city’s name.
-Robert F. Murray
Ummmm… Yeah… Wow… OK…(Said after a deep breath of satisfaction)
So I have been to Mecca. You can call me a Hajii. I have seen it all. I played golf in St. Andrews. What a glorious thing that it is. Home of the Royal and Ancient game.
Yesterday I arrived at St. Andrews just before 10 o’clock. I had to stay the night in Edinburgh. “Had to”, like it was some sort of punishment. Sorry, I am still enthralled every day with each new experience. It is still hard for me to believe what I am doing and where I am doing it. Somebody pinch me! Edinburgh was a night’s stay because I wasn’t going to be able to make it all the way to St. Andrews before the one hostel closed for the night.
My plan was to leave Dublin on the 18th. I flew out on the 1110 to Stanstead and immediately caught the British National Rail. It was supposed to be a quick eight hour train ride to St. Andrews giving me plenty of time to check in and prepare for yesterday. Problems, however, arose. Leaving Stanstead, I had to make a switch in Petersbourgh, then York, then Edinburgh, then Leuchars. All was going well until York. Some how I miss read the sign, was on the wrong track, or just wasn’t paying attention, but I jumped on a train and found myself heading towards Scarborough. That would have been fine if Scarborough was on the way to Edinburgh, but it is not. I did notice I was on the wrong train about five seconds too late. I rushed to the doors, only to find them shut and locked, not to open again, until Malton, a 30 minute ride away. Not discouraged, I enjoyed that ride in the countryside and hoped to catch the next train back to York. My train stopped in Malton at 1712, the next train wasn’t till 1808. I had an hour to kill and decided to venture into the town. It was closed, not the town, but all the shops in it. A Café was open though and I enjoyed a hot pork sandwich and some fries. 1808 and I was heading back to York.
A two hour delay, not a problem! The problem came when a stopover at Edinburgh wouldn’t get me to Leuchars until after 2330 and the hostel closed at 2200. That is when I decided a night in Edinburgh wouldn’t be a bad thing. In the end, the timing was perfect. Let me explain.
I woke up early yesterday and caught a 0800 train. That got me to St. Andrews plenty early. So, it is 10 o’clock and I am checked in and immediately head for St. Andrews Links. On my way, I purchase a golf glove for 8 pounds and a dozen previously used golf balls for 20 pounds. Arriving at the courses, I approach the starter for The New Course about a single walking on. He takes one look at me and recommends that I try the less difficult courses across the way. It had been over 7 months since my last round and The New Course is a championship course. At a minimum he wanted me to go to the practice grounds and warm up. I thanked him and went to practice. First though, I had to hire some clubs for 20 pounds. The practice round included 50 range balls, 2.70 pounds, and the chipping and putting area, 1.70 pounds. After successfully warming up, I started to head back to the New Course, but the shuttle driver recommended two easier and less expensive courses, either the Eden or Strathtyrum course. At 55 pounds, the New course is an investment, were as the Eden is 30 pounds and Strathtyrum only 22 pounds. Strathtyrum was wide open and I walked on as a single. It was 1204 by that point and I pretty much had the entire course to myself. It seemed the regulars had all broke for lunch. I was flying along. The course was short and relatively easy. I actually bogeyed the first hole, shot par on the second, and doubled the third. The fourth was another par but the fifth wasn’t pretty. In the end, I finished that round in less than three hours shooting 22 over par. Not bad!
It was just past 1500 and the entire day was before of me. I purchased a quick lunch for 5 pounds and decided that I would still try to play the New Course. It was a different starter and he more than welcomed me to wait for an opening and walk on. At 1600, after paying 55 pounds plus an extra 10 to continue using the clubs, I teed off with Mr. Guthrie and Mr. Guthrie, a father son team here on a golfing holiday. They had just flown in from the states and looked to get in a round before crashing from jet lag. In comparison, I was better than both of them.
Now to the course. Majestic is all I can say. Again, words can not describe it. The knee high dorge, the yellow scrub, the pit bunkers, the lack of any flat point on the course save the tee boxes, it was all St. Andrews. It is all majestic. I will look back and recall yesterday as one of my greatest days of golf. My greatest is still a round I played with my dad in San Jose back in the summer of 1999. If my dad had been here yesterday, it definitely would have eclipsed all other days. One thing I know is that I will be back. I will play here again, only not until I have a job. Yesterday set me back a lot. Let’s recall:
27.98 pounds – glove and balls
30 pounds – hire clubs
4.40 pounds - practice
22 pounds – Strathtyrum greens fee
5 pounds – lunch
55 pounds – New Course greens fee
20 pounds – souvenir hat
Grand total – 164.38 pounds
In US Dollars - $312.32
Ouch! Thank you credit cards.
Today, my goal is to spend little or no money. I will walk around, look for a place to put this on the Internet, and more or less, do nothing. I head to the Orkney Islands in the morrow.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Soul and body to a tyrannising game?
If you would, there’s little need to be a rover,
For St. Andrews is the abject city’s name.
-Robert F. Murray
Ummmm… Yeah… Wow… OK…(Said after a deep breath of satisfaction)
So I have been to Mecca. You can call me a Hajii. I have seen it all. I played golf in St. Andrews. What a glorious thing that it is. Home of the Royal and Ancient game.
Yesterday I arrived at St. Andrews just before 10 o’clock. I had to stay the night in Edinburgh. “Had to”, like it was some sort of punishment. Sorry, I am still enthralled every day with each new experience. It is still hard for me to believe what I am doing and where I am doing it. Somebody pinch me! Edinburgh was a night’s stay because I wasn’t going to be able to make it all the way to St. Andrews before the one hostel closed for the night.
My plan was to leave Dublin on the 18th. I flew out on the 1110 to Stanstead and immediately caught the British National Rail. It was supposed to be a quick eight hour train ride to St. Andrews giving me plenty of time to check in and prepare for yesterday. Problems, however, arose. Leaving Stanstead, I had to make a switch in Petersbourgh, then York, then Edinburgh, then Leuchars. All was going well until York. Some how I miss read the sign, was on the wrong track, or just wasn’t paying attention, but I jumped on a train and found myself heading towards Scarborough. That would have been fine if Scarborough was on the way to Edinburgh, but it is not. I did notice I was on the wrong train about five seconds too late. I rushed to the doors, only to find them shut and locked, not to open again, until Malton, a 30 minute ride away. Not discouraged, I enjoyed that ride in the countryside and hoped to catch the next train back to York. My train stopped in Malton at 1712, the next train wasn’t till 1808. I had an hour to kill and decided to venture into the town. It was closed, not the town, but all the shops in it. A Café was open though and I enjoyed a hot pork sandwich and some fries. 1808 and I was heading back to York.
A two hour delay, not a problem! The problem came when a stopover at Edinburgh wouldn’t get me to Leuchars until after 2330 and the hostel closed at 2200. That is when I decided a night in Edinburgh wouldn’t be a bad thing. In the end, the timing was perfect. Let me explain.
I woke up early yesterday and caught a 0800 train. That got me to St. Andrews plenty early. So, it is 10 o’clock and I am checked in and immediately head for St. Andrews Links. On my way, I purchase a golf glove for 8 pounds and a dozen previously used golf balls for 20 pounds. Arriving at the courses, I approach the starter for The New Course about a single walking on. He takes one look at me and recommends that I try the less difficult courses across the way. It had been over 7 months since my last round and The New Course is a championship course. At a minimum he wanted me to go to the practice grounds and warm up. I thanked him and went to practice. First though, I had to hire some clubs for 20 pounds. The practice round included 50 range balls, 2.70 pounds, and the chipping and putting area, 1.70 pounds. After successfully warming up, I started to head back to the New Course, but the shuttle driver recommended two easier and less expensive courses, either the Eden or Strathtyrum course. At 55 pounds, the New course is an investment, were as the Eden is 30 pounds and Strathtyrum only 22 pounds. Strathtyrum was wide open and I walked on as a single. It was 1204 by that point and I pretty much had the entire course to myself. It seemed the regulars had all broke for lunch. I was flying along. The course was short and relatively easy. I actually bogeyed the first hole, shot par on the second, and doubled the third. The fourth was another par but the fifth wasn’t pretty. In the end, I finished that round in less than three hours shooting 22 over par. Not bad!
It was just past 1500 and the entire day was before of me. I purchased a quick lunch for 5 pounds and decided that I would still try to play the New Course. It was a different starter and he more than welcomed me to wait for an opening and walk on. At 1600, after paying 55 pounds plus an extra 10 to continue using the clubs, I teed off with Mr. Guthrie and Mr. Guthrie, a father son team here on a golfing holiday. They had just flown in from the states and looked to get in a round before crashing from jet lag. In comparison, I was better than both of them.
Now to the course. Majestic is all I can say. Again, words can not describe it. The knee high dorge, the yellow scrub, the pit bunkers, the lack of any flat point on the course save the tee boxes, it was all St. Andrews. It is all majestic. I will look back and recall yesterday as one of my greatest days of golf. My greatest is still a round I played with my dad in San Jose back in the summer of 1999. If my dad had been here yesterday, it definitely would have eclipsed all other days. One thing I know is that I will be back. I will play here again, only not until I have a job. Yesterday set me back a lot. Let’s recall:
27.98 pounds – glove and balls
30 pounds – hire clubs
4.40 pounds - practice
22 pounds – Strathtyrum greens fee
5 pounds – lunch
55 pounds – New Course greens fee
20 pounds – souvenir hat
Grand total – 164.38 pounds
In US Dollars - $312.32
Ouch! Thank you credit cards.
Today, my goal is to spend little or no money. I will walk around, look for a place to put this on the Internet, and more or less, do nothing. I head to the Orkney Islands in the morrow.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Pint 4a: No more pints
Dublin, Ireland is the pub capital of the world. They don’t call it Publin for no reason. (Hey, Publin looks a lot like Publix which is a supermarket in the States.) Tonight is my last night in Publin and I am trying to decide if I should go out and get one last pint. I don’t think I will. A few years ago, when I first started consuming alcohol, I had a rather wise policy of never spending money for alcohol. It made sense at the time. I wasn’t a big drinker. Actually, didn’t even like the stuff and not spending money for a drink was prudent. That has changed over the years. I have grown to enjoy certain alcohols. Wine is my favorite. Something red and sweet. I like the dry stuff too, but sweet is favorite. Coming over here to Ireland, I have tried the various whiskeys and I am a fan of them too. I am not a connoisseur of whiskey just yet, or wine for that matter, but I am realizing that a good whiskey is better than a cheap one as is a good wine a cheap wine.
This new taste has not helped my pocket book. (I am also guessing that my parents, tea-totellers, are a little upset that I writing so much about alcohol.) I still don’t like beer. Being in Ireland, I tried Guinness. It just didn’t do anything for me. I have stopped drinking Guinness, which is a sin here. Tonight will be no exception. If I do go out, it will be for one shot. But on the up side, I am going to Scotland, which is more famous for whiskey, and so maybe I will save my pennies till then. On the down side, Ireland has the Euro and Scotland the Pound. Everything is more expensive there so maybe a drink here isn’t a bad idea. I wouldn’t even be having this discussion if there was anything else to do in Publin in the evening. All the businesses seem to shut down around 1800 and the only thing left to do is hit a Pub.
There isn’t much to say to catch you up on the last few days. I purposely didn’t post anything for just that reason. Sunday, I went and played golf. I wanted to go to church and golf is the next best thing, right? At least that is what I thought growing up. (Just kidding dad!) It was a 18 hole pitch and putt. I shot a 26 over par, +16 on the front nine, +10 on the back. I made one birdie from off the green, a number of saved pars, and never once hit the green in regulation. I was playing golf in Ireland and didn’t lose a ball; it was a successful day. Playing also spurred my desire to play again, so tomorrow I head to the Mecca of golf and hope to play a round on Thursday.
Now I am going to head to an Internet Café here in the city. I can plug my computer in, which allows me to up load a bunch of stuff to my website. Go to the “expect me” page and there are a bunch of new pictures and locations.
One thing of note, I learned today that Haggard is actually Scottish in origin. The Haggard’s are from the Highlands, a sept of the Clan Ross. So I am Jason Haggard of the Clan Ross. I like how that sounds. I think I am going to buy a kilt while in Scotland. Haggard is derived from the Gaelic form Mac-an-t-sagairt, which means son of the priest. Fitting isn’t it? I guess my line of work was destined. I think it is cool. Scotland is going to be cool, too.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
This new taste has not helped my pocket book. (I am also guessing that my parents, tea-totellers, are a little upset that I writing so much about alcohol.) I still don’t like beer. Being in Ireland, I tried Guinness. It just didn’t do anything for me. I have stopped drinking Guinness, which is a sin here. Tonight will be no exception. If I do go out, it will be for one shot. But on the up side, I am going to Scotland, which is more famous for whiskey, and so maybe I will save my pennies till then. On the down side, Ireland has the Euro and Scotland the Pound. Everything is more expensive there so maybe a drink here isn’t a bad idea. I wouldn’t even be having this discussion if there was anything else to do in Publin in the evening. All the businesses seem to shut down around 1800 and the only thing left to do is hit a Pub.
There isn’t much to say to catch you up on the last few days. I purposely didn’t post anything for just that reason. Sunday, I went and played golf. I wanted to go to church and golf is the next best thing, right? At least that is what I thought growing up. (Just kidding dad!) It was a 18 hole pitch and putt. I shot a 26 over par, +16 on the front nine, +10 on the back. I made one birdie from off the green, a number of saved pars, and never once hit the green in regulation. I was playing golf in Ireland and didn’t lose a ball; it was a successful day. Playing also spurred my desire to play again, so tomorrow I head to the Mecca of golf and hope to play a round on Thursday.
Now I am going to head to an Internet Café here in the city. I can plug my computer in, which allows me to up load a bunch of stuff to my website. Go to the “expect me” page and there are a bunch of new pictures and locations.
One thing of note, I learned today that Haggard is actually Scottish in origin. The Haggard’s are from the Highlands, a sept of the Clan Ross. So I am Jason Haggard of the Clan Ross. I like how that sounds. I think I am going to buy a kilt while in Scotland. Haggard is derived from the Gaelic form Mac-an-t-sagairt, which means son of the priest. Fitting isn’t it? I guess my line of work was destined. I think it is cool. Scotland is going to be cool, too.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Saturday, May 14, 2005
Pint 4: Warning!! The following is long and boring. Read at your own risk.
It is 9:30 but it feels like 5 in the afternoon. The days are very long here, and getting longer. That totally messes with my internal clock. Not a big deal because I have no where to be and plenty of time get there. It does make for some difficulties in eating dinner because 9 feels like 5 and 5 feels like 2. My body feels like eating dinner, but my watch won’t let me. Everyone knows how bad it is to eat late in the evening.
I was just reading from the book, “People Skills”, by Robert Bolton, PH. D. It is a book about communication and how we as humans and especially Americans do such a lousy job at it. Jordan gave me the book and so I have been reading bits and pieces over the last few weeks. It reads more like a text book than a regular book so I can’t sit and read chapter after chapter. The author actually recommends that you read it in short spurts because the skills he is trying to cover are ones that take time and practice to develop and master so the process is gradual. He recommends that you read a section and then practice it in your life. Improving that particular skill in your own interpersonal actions, you should then move on to the next one covered and practice it.
I am sort of taking his advice, but not entirely. Being a guy, I am very goal oriented. I am also a focused, single minded individual so I like to finish one thing before starting another. In reading, I want to finish a book before I start the next one. With a book like this, however, I shouldn’t read it cover to cover like I normally would do. It is very difficult for me to discipline myself in this way, which is actually why I am writing this blog. I just read three chapters, two more than I should have. I would have kept going, but I know that it was better for me not to, so now I am writing. Writing will also help me reflect on what I just read and that is another skill the author talks about.
Have I mentioned before that I am a terrible listener? I am. I realized this back in Iraq when someone pointed it out. Ever since then, I have been working on improving my listening. This book has been very helpful in that area. It talks about barriers to communications, listening skills, verbal and non-verbal communication, and other things. The barriers to communication, when I first read them, seemed to include everything that I do to communicate. I felt that the best way for me to effectively communicate after reading all of them was to not say anything ever again.
I am not allowed to: criticize, name-call, order, threaten, argue or divert. All of those things made sense. But I also can’t: diagnose, praise evaluatively, moralize, question, advise, or reassure. I read all of those and was like, “what can I do?” Diagnose, advise, and reassure are the things that I do. Questioning, too, seems like a great way to get people to think about what they are doing or not doing and helps them work through their issues. But according to this guy, those things all cause people to close up, and stop communicating. If he is right, and I am not convinced just yet, then I have a lot of work to do in the area of communication. He is right and I do have a lot of work to do in the area of communication.
I figure this time of traveling is one of the best times to practice. I have met so many different people from all over and each one has a story to tell. Most of them are just dying for someone to listen to them and I am working real hard on being that person. The problem is that I can’t really get any feed back as to my success as a listener. Or at least I haven’t figured out how to interpret other people’s impression of my listening. It just takes time, and luckily at this point, time is something I have plenty of.
I would tell you about my day now, but it was pretty uneventful. Oh, why not? The first part of this blog was boring and I doubt anyone has gotten this far anyway and as I just said, I got the time. I went on another bike ride. This one was significantly further than a couple days ago and my legs and butt have informed me of that. Where my previous ride was to the south, today I went north. My goal was this 40 km loop along the coast, inland a bit, and then returning to the coast. The best description of today’s ride is brutal.
The first leg along the coast was in a generally North East direction. Since the wind today was out of a generally North East direction also, it meant that the first leg was entirely into the persistent 15 knot wind. Persistent isn’t a good enough description. Relentless, unyielding, ruthless, deplorable, agonizing are much better descriptions. At times I felt like giving up. At other times, I felt like quitting. Most of the time, I just felt like crawling into the fetal position and not moving until the wind stopped.
There is a verse in the bible about trials leading to perseverance, perseverance, proven character, and proven character, hope. And hope is a good thing, probably the best of things. Well, the last part isn’t in there, but it should be and just because it isn’t in there doesn’t mean it isn’t true. When Paul wrote that, he must have just finish a bike ride where the entire first part was against the wind. Today’s bike ride did teach me perseverance or at least point out that I have a lot to learn.
Along the way, I stopped and chatted with some rock climbers. I asked about climbing in Ireland and they said that the best climbing was up in the Northern part of the country and it consisted of only a few three pitch routes. For a country whose highest point is less than 4000 ft, what can you expect. I also stopped midway at the Monk’s Pub for some seafood chowder and my daily pint. The chowder wasn’t all that good, but the pint made up for it.
The ride back also made up for the first leg, a little. Obviously since the first leg was entirely into the wind, the second leg was almost entirely with the wind, combined with it being mostly down hill meant that I pretty much coasted the entire 10 miles. Good thing too because after the pint and chowder, my body wasn’t up for much of anything. I did stop my coasting briefly to grab a red onion for tomorrow’s breakfast and dinner and a white chocolate ice cream bar for immediate personal consumption.
As I said at the beginning, nothing much exciting happened today and if you have read this far, let me apologize but also say that I warned you. Tomorrow will probably be equally as unexciting so maybe I will just forgo a post all together.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
I was just reading from the book, “People Skills”, by Robert Bolton, PH. D. It is a book about communication and how we as humans and especially Americans do such a lousy job at it. Jordan gave me the book and so I have been reading bits and pieces over the last few weeks. It reads more like a text book than a regular book so I can’t sit and read chapter after chapter. The author actually recommends that you read it in short spurts because the skills he is trying to cover are ones that take time and practice to develop and master so the process is gradual. He recommends that you read a section and then practice it in your life. Improving that particular skill in your own interpersonal actions, you should then move on to the next one covered and practice it.
I am sort of taking his advice, but not entirely. Being a guy, I am very goal oriented. I am also a focused, single minded individual so I like to finish one thing before starting another. In reading, I want to finish a book before I start the next one. With a book like this, however, I shouldn’t read it cover to cover like I normally would do. It is very difficult for me to discipline myself in this way, which is actually why I am writing this blog. I just read three chapters, two more than I should have. I would have kept going, but I know that it was better for me not to, so now I am writing. Writing will also help me reflect on what I just read and that is another skill the author talks about.
Have I mentioned before that I am a terrible listener? I am. I realized this back in Iraq when someone pointed it out. Ever since then, I have been working on improving my listening. This book has been very helpful in that area. It talks about barriers to communications, listening skills, verbal and non-verbal communication, and other things. The barriers to communication, when I first read them, seemed to include everything that I do to communicate. I felt that the best way for me to effectively communicate after reading all of them was to not say anything ever again.
I am not allowed to: criticize, name-call, order, threaten, argue or divert. All of those things made sense. But I also can’t: diagnose, praise evaluatively, moralize, question, advise, or reassure. I read all of those and was like, “what can I do?” Diagnose, advise, and reassure are the things that I do. Questioning, too, seems like a great way to get people to think about what they are doing or not doing and helps them work through their issues. But according to this guy, those things all cause people to close up, and stop communicating. If he is right, and I am not convinced just yet, then I have a lot of work to do in the area of communication. He is right and I do have a lot of work to do in the area of communication.
I figure this time of traveling is one of the best times to practice. I have met so many different people from all over and each one has a story to tell. Most of them are just dying for someone to listen to them and I am working real hard on being that person. The problem is that I can’t really get any feed back as to my success as a listener. Or at least I haven’t figured out how to interpret other people’s impression of my listening. It just takes time, and luckily at this point, time is something I have plenty of.
I would tell you about my day now, but it was pretty uneventful. Oh, why not? The first part of this blog was boring and I doubt anyone has gotten this far anyway and as I just said, I got the time. I went on another bike ride. This one was significantly further than a couple days ago and my legs and butt have informed me of that. Where my previous ride was to the south, today I went north. My goal was this 40 km loop along the coast, inland a bit, and then returning to the coast. The best description of today’s ride is brutal.
The first leg along the coast was in a generally North East direction. Since the wind today was out of a generally North East direction also, it meant that the first leg was entirely into the persistent 15 knot wind. Persistent isn’t a good enough description. Relentless, unyielding, ruthless, deplorable, agonizing are much better descriptions. At times I felt like giving up. At other times, I felt like quitting. Most of the time, I just felt like crawling into the fetal position and not moving until the wind stopped.
There is a verse in the bible about trials leading to perseverance, perseverance, proven character, and proven character, hope. And hope is a good thing, probably the best of things. Well, the last part isn’t in there, but it should be and just because it isn’t in there doesn’t mean it isn’t true. When Paul wrote that, he must have just finish a bike ride where the entire first part was against the wind. Today’s bike ride did teach me perseverance or at least point out that I have a lot to learn.
Along the way, I stopped and chatted with some rock climbers. I asked about climbing in Ireland and they said that the best climbing was up in the Northern part of the country and it consisted of only a few three pitch routes. For a country whose highest point is less than 4000 ft, what can you expect. I also stopped midway at the Monk’s Pub for some seafood chowder and my daily pint. The chowder wasn’t all that good, but the pint made up for it.
The ride back also made up for the first leg, a little. Obviously since the first leg was entirely into the wind, the second leg was almost entirely with the wind, combined with it being mostly down hill meant that I pretty much coasted the entire 10 miles. Good thing too because after the pint and chowder, my body wasn’t up for much of anything. I did stop my coasting briefly to grab a red onion for tomorrow’s breakfast and dinner and a white chocolate ice cream bar for immediate personal consumption.
As I said at the beginning, nothing much exciting happened today and if you have read this far, let me apologize but also say that I warned you. Tomorrow will probably be equally as unexciting so maybe I will just forgo a post all together.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Pint 3: And a shot of Ireland’s finest whiskey
One of my fondest memories as a child is of a camping trip I took in the 6th grade. My family and I were living in Douglas, WY. Dad was the pastor of First Baptist and I was a PK. The youth group had planned a weekend trip out at Laramie Peak State Park. Laramie is south of Douglas, west of Cheyenne. Its main attraction is Laramie Peak, a 10,000 ft mountain that you can hike to the top of.
The camping trip was two nights, three days. Jim Pellerin, the youth guy and good friend, lead all of us kids, about 15. He is a real outdoors man. Someone whose influence in my life I probably will never fully recognize or understand. Jim taught me to repel, that you should always leave a place better than you found it, and that your job and your hobbies are two different things. Jim lives in Oregon now with Jeanne, his wife, and two kids, Jamie and Jason. Jamie and Jason are both college age and last I heard they are in school in Jackson, WY. If I made a list of great place to go to school, Jackson WY would definitely be high on my list. I should really go visit them because it has been ten years.
During the camping trip, we did all sorts of things. I learned how to load my own rifle rounds. Jim brought his 22-250 rifle and we practiced shooting. I made my first confirmed kill that weekend. My victim was a ground marmot. I shot it through the neck at 300 yards. I wasn’t actually aiming for the neck, but it did the job. We cooked out over a fire, not the marmot, and I learned the game Truth or Dare. I “French kissed” for the first time. Don’t remember her name. She was a friend of Tiff’s and older sister to my friend, Terry Hollister.
There were so many great memories, but the one thing that stands out the most and that I think of every time I am outdoors is the wind. Growing up, my family wasn’t much of a camping family. We would do hikes and vacations, but when it came to real camping, we did hotels. So when I did eventually camp that weekend, I was grossly under equipped. I had what I call today a slumber party sleeping bag. You know the all cotton ones that unzip completely and can form a blanket or can be combined with its matching set to make a double size one. Those bags when fully zipped still have a huge opening and no drawstring or elastic. That was my bag.
We slept out under the stars. No tent, no cabin. I was on the hard ground without a pad, a covering, or pillow if I remember correctly. Bart Lesco and I slept next to each other and the first night was rough, at least for me. The wind was blowing steadily all night. It wasn’t extremely cold, but cold enough that I couldn’t leave my head exposed. Without a drawstring on my slumber party bag, I was forced to gather up the open end in both my hands and hold on all night. It was sort of like being in a bread bag. I had turned the opening in on itself, grabbed hold, and then slept with my head on my clenched hands. I don’t remember if I slept that first night at all, but I do remember being cold.
The second night, Bart and I moved to a small rock formation near by. We found a depression that had a two foot shear rise on the windward side. I snuggled up against the rock face and slept there. That second night was when my memory is forever etched. I remember being balled up in my slumber party bag, grabbing the opening, making a hole just big enough for my mouth to get fresh air, and listening to the wind as it howled across the rocks. I can hear the wind. It was so much warmer that night out of the wind and with the pronounced sound, I slept like a baby.
Now, whenever I am anywhere in nature and the wind is blowing, I remember that night. Today, I sit and write on the smooth black, water worn rocks of the Irish coast. The wind is once again blowing steadily. Again, I have climbed close to the cliff so I am blocked from its full force. This time however, the sound of the crashing waves has drowned out the wind, but I know it is still there.
My God, this is beautiful. If words could only describe this majesty, they would then begin to describe Yours. But words can not. My heart can, but only through Your Spirit with utterances beyond words.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
The camping trip was two nights, three days. Jim Pellerin, the youth guy and good friend, lead all of us kids, about 15. He is a real outdoors man. Someone whose influence in my life I probably will never fully recognize or understand. Jim taught me to repel, that you should always leave a place better than you found it, and that your job and your hobbies are two different things. Jim lives in Oregon now with Jeanne, his wife, and two kids, Jamie and Jason. Jamie and Jason are both college age and last I heard they are in school in Jackson, WY. If I made a list of great place to go to school, Jackson WY would definitely be high on my list. I should really go visit them because it has been ten years.
During the camping trip, we did all sorts of things. I learned how to load my own rifle rounds. Jim brought his 22-250 rifle and we practiced shooting. I made my first confirmed kill that weekend. My victim was a ground marmot. I shot it through the neck at 300 yards. I wasn’t actually aiming for the neck, but it did the job. We cooked out over a fire, not the marmot, and I learned the game Truth or Dare. I “French kissed” for the first time. Don’t remember her name. She was a friend of Tiff’s and older sister to my friend, Terry Hollister.
There were so many great memories, but the one thing that stands out the most and that I think of every time I am outdoors is the wind. Growing up, my family wasn’t much of a camping family. We would do hikes and vacations, but when it came to real camping, we did hotels. So when I did eventually camp that weekend, I was grossly under equipped. I had what I call today a slumber party sleeping bag. You know the all cotton ones that unzip completely and can form a blanket or can be combined with its matching set to make a double size one. Those bags when fully zipped still have a huge opening and no drawstring or elastic. That was my bag.
We slept out under the stars. No tent, no cabin. I was on the hard ground without a pad, a covering, or pillow if I remember correctly. Bart Lesco and I slept next to each other and the first night was rough, at least for me. The wind was blowing steadily all night. It wasn’t extremely cold, but cold enough that I couldn’t leave my head exposed. Without a drawstring on my slumber party bag, I was forced to gather up the open end in both my hands and hold on all night. It was sort of like being in a bread bag. I had turned the opening in on itself, grabbed hold, and then slept with my head on my clenched hands. I don’t remember if I slept that first night at all, but I do remember being cold.
The second night, Bart and I moved to a small rock formation near by. We found a depression that had a two foot shear rise on the windward side. I snuggled up against the rock face and slept there. That second night was when my memory is forever etched. I remember being balled up in my slumber party bag, grabbing the opening, making a hole just big enough for my mouth to get fresh air, and listening to the wind as it howled across the rocks. I can hear the wind. It was so much warmer that night out of the wind and with the pronounced sound, I slept like a baby.
Now, whenever I am anywhere in nature and the wind is blowing, I remember that night. Today, I sit and write on the smooth black, water worn rocks of the Irish coast. The wind is once again blowing steadily. Again, I have climbed close to the cliff so I am blocked from its full force. This time however, the sound of the crashing waves has drowned out the wind, but I know it is still there.
My God, this is beautiful. If words could only describe this majesty, they would then begin to describe Yours. But words can not. My heart can, but only through Your Spirit with utterances beyond words.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Thursday, May 12, 2005
Pint 2a: Anybody wanna peanut?
It is late once again. My day has been full and instead of going out and grabbing a pint this evening, I have decided to write about today and all its magnificence. For those of you that are only into being entertained with humor, you might want to skip this post, because nothing too funny happened today and I am not sure I can come up with a good story. (Well, my bum does hurt, but I would be lying if I said it was for a funny reason.)
Today I did in fact rent that bike and ride the 10 miles to the cash machine. The ride gave me ample time to see a lot of the country side and be in awe of all of it. I know now where the Irish get their Kelly green national color. It is everywhere. The grass covers this land and all of it is the lushest, greenest, most beautiful grass I have ever seen. I will even go so far as to admit that the grass here is better than the grass in Washington, which is saying a lot. Riding through the hills, you can see for miles and miles and all of it is beautiful.
I made it to the town of Lahinch or Lehinch depending on the sign you read. THE cash machine, and there was only one, was in a convenience store. I pulled out 100 Euro and started looking for breakfast. Mrs. O’Brien’s Kitchen is where I ate. The food was… alright, filling but just alright. My next destination was the Cliffs of Mohar. Most of you have probably not heard of the Cliffs of Mohar, but I bet all of you have heard of the Cliffs of Insanity. Let me refresh your memory.
INIGO
Look! He's right on top of us. I wonder if he is using the same wind we are using.
VIZZINI
Whoever he is, he's too late –
(pointing ahead of them)
– see?
(big)
The Cliffs of Insanity.
And once he's said the name...
CUT TO:
THE CLIFFS OF INSANITY AT DAWN
They rise straight up, sheer from the water, impossibly high.
CUT TO:
THE TWO SAILBOATS
In a wild race for the Cliffs and the Man In Black is closing faster than ever, but not fast enough, the lead was too great to overcome, and as Inigo sails with great precision straight at the Cliffs
CUT TO:
THE BOAT
Being pursued.
VIZZINI
Hurry up. Move the thing! Um... that other thing. Move it!
(staring back now)
We're safe – only Fezzik is strong enough to go up our way – he'll have to sail around for hours 'til he finds a harbor.
There is much activity going on, all of it swift, expert, economical. Fezzik reaches up along the Cliff face, grabs a jutting rock, reaches behind it. Suddenly there is a thick rope in his hands. He drops back to the boat, gives the rope a freeing swing and
CUT TO:
THE CLIFFS
The rope goes all the way to the top.
CUT TO:
INIGO
Hurrying to Fezzik. He straps a harness to him, then lifts Buttercup and Vizzini in the harness. Finally, he himself gets in the harness. All three are strapped to Fezzik like papooses.
And he starts to ascend the rope, carrying them all along with him as he goes.
CUT TO:
THE MAN IN BLACK
Sailing in toward the Cliffs of Insanity, watching as Fezzik rises swiftly through the first moments of dawn.
CUT TO:
THE TOP OF THE CLIFFS, LOOKING DOWN
FEZZIK'S GROUP is only faintly visible far below. This is the first time we've gotten the real vertigo feeling and it's a gasper.
CUT TO:
Fezzik CLIMBING ON
Buttercup is almost out of her mind with fear.
CUT TO:
THE ENTIRE LENGTH OF THE CLIFFS
Fezzikis moving right along; however high they are, he's already over a third of the way done.
CUT TO:
THE MAN IN BLACK
Leaping from his ship to the rope, starting to climb. He's impossibly far behind, but the way he goes you'd think he didn't know that because he is flying up the rope, hand over hand like lightning.
CUT TO:
VIZZINI AND THE OTHERS
INIGO
(looking down)
He's climbing the rope. And he's gaining on us.
VIZZINI
Inconceivable!
He prods Fezzik, who nods, increases his pace.
CUT TO:
THE MAN IN BLACK
Roaring up the rope, and
CUT TO:
LONG SHOT – THE CLIFFS
And the Man In Black is cutting deeply into Fezzik's lead.
CUT TO:
VIZZINI AND THE OTHERS
VIZZINI
(shrieking)
Faster!
FEZZIK
I thought I was going faster.
VIZZINI
You were supposed to be this colossus. You were this great, legendary thing. And yet he gains.
FEZZIK
Well, I'm carrying three people. And he's got only himself.
VIZZINI
(cutting through)
I do not accept excuses.
(shaking his head)
I'm just going to have to find myself a new giant, that's all.
FEZZIK
(hurt)
Don't say that, Vizzini. Please.
The previous excerpt comes to you with permission from the Internet.
If I didn’t mention this before, I came to Doolin solely to see these cliffs, and it was worth it if only to enjoy the knowledge that I have seen the Cliffs of Insanity in person, but also because, as with the rest of Ireland, they are beautiful. The bike ride up to the cliffs wasn’t entirely direct. There is this walking trail, the Burren Way, and I was attempting to follow it to the cliffs, but I got temporarily disoriented and ended up somewhere else. I could see the cliffs off the distance, but no roads led there. I eventually braved the fields and bushwhacked to them. Bushwhacked isn’t the right term because for all of Irelands beauty, it does lack something, trees and bushes. I simply pointed my bike towards that cliffs and road. Riding became impossible when I hit the marshy, mossy parts, but it was still possible to walk along side of the bike, though my feet did get wet.
My first experience with the cliffs was marvelous. They do rise straight out of the ocean and climb 800 feet. There are many more miles of them than I imagined so I didn’t even see them all and couldn’t say if I saw the exact cliffs from the movie, but I did see some likely possibilities. After getting to the cliffs, I rode to the left and stopped at the ruins of a look out post. There I read my bible and just sat and relaxed for a couple hours. I think it is in the bible that God uses nature to reveal Himself, but I know that I feel the presence of Christ more in nature than anywhere else. That is why I love being out doors, especially in the mountains. Part of it is my fear of heights and a sense of insignificance that comes from being on the top of something very high. It puts the fear of God in me and forces me to trust Him more.
Trusting God is a big thing with me. I don’t do it enough and am working on that. One of my big prayer requests over the last few years is to grow in faith, a part of which is trust. The bible says a lot about faith, that it can move mountains and stuff, but we humans miss the point so often. I am not saying that I get it, but there is so much to faith; it is so practical. Faith will allow you to move mountains, but who cares about that? I just want to not worry about getting a job. How can faith help me get a job? I want to know that I will get married some day. How can I be sure? Or can I? I am still working on those answers so I don’t feel comfortable answering them just yet.
And here is the thing with faith that gets me: If I don’t have enough of it, is that a sin in my life? Does my desire denote a lack of patience? And does even asking all these questions mean I don’t have faith because if I had faith I wouldn’t be asking these questions? Or do I have a measure of faith and if so how much and again, how do I get more? Lots of questions, working on the answers.
But Ireland… It is beautiful, and the people are great too. Karl runs the Allie River Hostel. (I am wondering if the little creek out the front door is the “river” they are talking about, but I am too scared to ask.) He has been working here for 12 years and I can see why. He loves this place. He takes great care of the building and the people in it. Karl is so giving and humble and selfless. Good job Karl, though you will never read this. Today while building a fire in the stove, Karl was extra careful to make sure there were no extra bits of wood or charcoal making a mess. He swept up the smallest mess and did it with a smile. I wish everyone could be as satisfied with their job as Karl appears to be.
Nothing much happened the rest of the day. I road back to Doolin, picked up some groceries from the only store in town, and made a delicious spaghetti dinner for one. Apparently it was spaghetti night at the hostel because four groups where having it too. (I actually wasn’t the original; I got the idea from Karl.) The hostel was quiet when I prepared dinner, but the activity grew. It is full now and I have met people from everywhere. Phil and Matt are from Minnesota; Lindsey is from Vancouver, and Ruth and Michael, Heidelberg, Germany. Antonio, who I met yesterday, is here with his wife and they are from Genoa, Italy. That is everyone I have met so far.
Deep breath, big smile, time for bed. Another perfect ending to a perfect day. Oh, what adventures will tomorrow bring? (Or today because it is already tomorrow.)
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Today I did in fact rent that bike and ride the 10 miles to the cash machine. The ride gave me ample time to see a lot of the country side and be in awe of all of it. I know now where the Irish get their Kelly green national color. It is everywhere. The grass covers this land and all of it is the lushest, greenest, most beautiful grass I have ever seen. I will even go so far as to admit that the grass here is better than the grass in Washington, which is saying a lot. Riding through the hills, you can see for miles and miles and all of it is beautiful.
I made it to the town of Lahinch or Lehinch depending on the sign you read. THE cash machine, and there was only one, was in a convenience store. I pulled out 100 Euro and started looking for breakfast. Mrs. O’Brien’s Kitchen is where I ate. The food was… alright, filling but just alright. My next destination was the Cliffs of Mohar. Most of you have probably not heard of the Cliffs of Mohar, but I bet all of you have heard of the Cliffs of Insanity. Let me refresh your memory.
INIGO
Look! He's right on top of us. I wonder if he is using the same wind we are using.
VIZZINI
Whoever he is, he's too late –
(pointing ahead of them)
– see?
(big)
The Cliffs of Insanity.
And once he's said the name...
CUT TO:
THE CLIFFS OF INSANITY AT DAWN
They rise straight up, sheer from the water, impossibly high.
CUT TO:
THE TWO SAILBOATS
In a wild race for the Cliffs and the Man In Black is closing faster than ever, but not fast enough, the lead was too great to overcome, and as Inigo sails with great precision straight at the Cliffs
CUT TO:
THE BOAT
Being pursued.
VIZZINI
Hurry up. Move the thing! Um... that other thing. Move it!
(staring back now)
We're safe – only Fezzik is strong enough to go up our way – he'll have to sail around for hours 'til he finds a harbor.
There is much activity going on, all of it swift, expert, economical. Fezzik reaches up along the Cliff face, grabs a jutting rock, reaches behind it. Suddenly there is a thick rope in his hands. He drops back to the boat, gives the rope a freeing swing and
CUT TO:
THE CLIFFS
The rope goes all the way to the top.
CUT TO:
INIGO
Hurrying to Fezzik. He straps a harness to him, then lifts Buttercup and Vizzini in the harness. Finally, he himself gets in the harness. All three are strapped to Fezzik like papooses.
And he starts to ascend the rope, carrying them all along with him as he goes.
CUT TO:
THE MAN IN BLACK
Sailing in toward the Cliffs of Insanity, watching as Fezzik rises swiftly through the first moments of dawn.
CUT TO:
THE TOP OF THE CLIFFS, LOOKING DOWN
FEZZIK'S GROUP is only faintly visible far below. This is the first time we've gotten the real vertigo feeling and it's a gasper.
CUT TO:
Fezzik CLIMBING ON
Buttercup is almost out of her mind with fear.
CUT TO:
THE ENTIRE LENGTH OF THE CLIFFS
Fezzikis moving right along; however high they are, he's already over a third of the way done.
CUT TO:
THE MAN IN BLACK
Leaping from his ship to the rope, starting to climb. He's impossibly far behind, but the way he goes you'd think he didn't know that because he is flying up the rope, hand over hand like lightning.
CUT TO:
VIZZINI AND THE OTHERS
INIGO
(looking down)
He's climbing the rope. And he's gaining on us.
VIZZINI
Inconceivable!
He prods Fezzik, who nods, increases his pace.
CUT TO:
THE MAN IN BLACK
Roaring up the rope, and
CUT TO:
LONG SHOT – THE CLIFFS
And the Man In Black is cutting deeply into Fezzik's lead.
CUT TO:
VIZZINI AND THE OTHERS
VIZZINI
(shrieking)
Faster!
FEZZIK
I thought I was going faster.
VIZZINI
You were supposed to be this colossus. You were this great, legendary thing. And yet he gains.
FEZZIK
Well, I'm carrying three people. And he's got only himself.
VIZZINI
(cutting through)
I do not accept excuses.
(shaking his head)
I'm just going to have to find myself a new giant, that's all.
FEZZIK
(hurt)
Don't say that, Vizzini. Please.
The previous excerpt comes to you with permission from the Internet.
If I didn’t mention this before, I came to Doolin solely to see these cliffs, and it was worth it if only to enjoy the knowledge that I have seen the Cliffs of Insanity in person, but also because, as with the rest of Ireland, they are beautiful. The bike ride up to the cliffs wasn’t entirely direct. There is this walking trail, the Burren Way, and I was attempting to follow it to the cliffs, but I got temporarily disoriented and ended up somewhere else. I could see the cliffs off the distance, but no roads led there. I eventually braved the fields and bushwhacked to them. Bushwhacked isn’t the right term because for all of Irelands beauty, it does lack something, trees and bushes. I simply pointed my bike towards that cliffs and road. Riding became impossible when I hit the marshy, mossy parts, but it was still possible to walk along side of the bike, though my feet did get wet.
My first experience with the cliffs was marvelous. They do rise straight out of the ocean and climb 800 feet. There are many more miles of them than I imagined so I didn’t even see them all and couldn’t say if I saw the exact cliffs from the movie, but I did see some likely possibilities. After getting to the cliffs, I rode to the left and stopped at the ruins of a look out post. There I read my bible and just sat and relaxed for a couple hours. I think it is in the bible that God uses nature to reveal Himself, but I know that I feel the presence of Christ more in nature than anywhere else. That is why I love being out doors, especially in the mountains. Part of it is my fear of heights and a sense of insignificance that comes from being on the top of something very high. It puts the fear of God in me and forces me to trust Him more.
Trusting God is a big thing with me. I don’t do it enough and am working on that. One of my big prayer requests over the last few years is to grow in faith, a part of which is trust. The bible says a lot about faith, that it can move mountains and stuff, but we humans miss the point so often. I am not saying that I get it, but there is so much to faith; it is so practical. Faith will allow you to move mountains, but who cares about that? I just want to not worry about getting a job. How can faith help me get a job? I want to know that I will get married some day. How can I be sure? Or can I? I am still working on those answers so I don’t feel comfortable answering them just yet.
And here is the thing with faith that gets me: If I don’t have enough of it, is that a sin in my life? Does my desire denote a lack of patience? And does even asking all these questions mean I don’t have faith because if I had faith I wouldn’t be asking these questions? Or do I have a measure of faith and if so how much and again, how do I get more? Lots of questions, working on the answers.
But Ireland… It is beautiful, and the people are great too. Karl runs the Allie River Hostel. (I am wondering if the little creek out the front door is the “river” they are talking about, but I am too scared to ask.) He has been working here for 12 years and I can see why. He loves this place. He takes great care of the building and the people in it. Karl is so giving and humble and selfless. Good job Karl, though you will never read this. Today while building a fire in the stove, Karl was extra careful to make sure there were no extra bits of wood or charcoal making a mess. He swept up the smallest mess and did it with a smile. I wish everyone could be as satisfied with their job as Karl appears to be.
Nothing much happened the rest of the day. I road back to Doolin, picked up some groceries from the only store in town, and made a delicious spaghetti dinner for one. Apparently it was spaghetti night at the hostel because four groups where having it too. (I actually wasn’t the original; I got the idea from Karl.) The hostel was quiet when I prepared dinner, but the activity grew. It is full now and I have met people from everywhere. Phil and Matt are from Minnesota; Lindsey is from Vancouver, and Ruth and Michael, Heidelberg, Germany. Antonio, who I met yesterday, is here with his wife and they are from Genoa, Italy. That is everyone I have met so far.
Deep breath, big smile, time for bed. Another perfect ending to a perfect day. Oh, what adventures will tomorrow bring? (Or today because it is already tomorrow.)
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Pint 2: Let me continue.
Yes, my previous post was cut short. I will explain in a minutes.
If anything can be said about me, I learn from mistakes. Learn but not always change. This mistake isn’t among the ones I was referring to earlier, but it will do.
Last night, I arrived in Dublin around 2200. I was hankering for some food and with the recommendation of the guy at the front desk; I headed to the Temple Bar area for a pint and a bite. I did not know then that the bars and restaurants stop serving food at 2230. I was out of luck. Thinking back, this really isn’t a mistake on my part, just unfortunate timing. I did manage the pint and that was enough to fill me.
This brings us to 1. What I learned. 2. Why my previous post is as it is.
As you can see from the time/date stamp of the previous post, I was nearing the end of the day. Once again hankering for some food after a long day’s journey and remembering that food is not served at all hours of the day, I decided to adjourn the previous message and seek out that which I desired. Why not just continue with the post after returning? Good question! The answer is simple; I had another pint of Guinness, of course. This brings me around full circle to the first mistake.
My mistake was not taking into account that not all of the world is filled with cash machines and the conveniences of the modern world. Not every business establishment accepts a Visa card, regardless of its claim to be “Everywhere you want to be.” I want to be in Doolin, Ireland and it ain’t here.
I left Dublin on a bus with 70 Euro and a handful of change in my pocket. That would seem like more than enough to get me through a few days. Factor in five nights at a hostel, 13 Euro a night, and that leaves me with 5 Euro and the handful of change. The nearest ATM is 10 miles away and I now have to spend 10 Euro to rent a bike and ride the 10 miles to it. The bike thing isn’t so bad, I would have done it anyway, but there is some principle behind having to spend 10 Euro to get more Euro.
The second mistake, which is really the only mistake, makes me even more frustrated with myself. Trinity College of Dublin is located in the heart of Dublin. TCD is world famous, established back in the 1500’s. I would know the exact date but I don’t because the long sleeved T-shirt that I bought this morning which had the name of the school and the date established on it seems to be missing. For the life of me I can’t remember what I did with it. The logical conclusion is that I left it at the hostel in Dublin when I was obtaining my backpack. I had initially carried it in my top sack while I walked around Dublin this morning. After retrieving my full backpack, I intended on switching items around to make more space in the rather small top sack for books and other things I would need on the bus journey. It must have been during that switch that the shirt was left behind.
I am frustrated because this is not the first thing on this trip that I have lost, and most likely it won’t be the last. I have also lost a 10 Euro note, and a couple socks. The socks are no big deal, and the 10 Euros is upsetting, but the shirt today cost me 20 Euro. That is 20 Euro down the drain unless some kind traveler decides to turn it in and the hostel holds it for a week. Now the real question is that after returning to Dublin, do I purchase another shirt, or punish myself for being stupido? I haven’t decided on that one yet.
Now I feel that after all this moaning you deserve some lighter talk about the countryside and how wonderful everything is. Sorry, it is late now and I just don’t feel up to all the light and fluffy stuff. The country side is wonderful and I promise to talk about it tomorrow.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Just realizing this, you all don’t have to wait because I will be posting all of these at the same time. I take back my apology.
If anything can be said about me, I learn from mistakes. Learn but not always change. This mistake isn’t among the ones I was referring to earlier, but it will do.
Last night, I arrived in Dublin around 2200. I was hankering for some food and with the recommendation of the guy at the front desk; I headed to the Temple Bar area for a pint and a bite. I did not know then that the bars and restaurants stop serving food at 2230. I was out of luck. Thinking back, this really isn’t a mistake on my part, just unfortunate timing. I did manage the pint and that was enough to fill me.
This brings us to 1. What I learned. 2. Why my previous post is as it is.
As you can see from the time/date stamp of the previous post, I was nearing the end of the day. Once again hankering for some food after a long day’s journey and remembering that food is not served at all hours of the day, I decided to adjourn the previous message and seek out that which I desired. Why not just continue with the post after returning? Good question! The answer is simple; I had another pint of Guinness, of course. This brings me around full circle to the first mistake.
My mistake was not taking into account that not all of the world is filled with cash machines and the conveniences of the modern world. Not every business establishment accepts a Visa card, regardless of its claim to be “Everywhere you want to be.” I want to be in Doolin, Ireland and it ain’t here.
I left Dublin on a bus with 70 Euro and a handful of change in my pocket. That would seem like more than enough to get me through a few days. Factor in five nights at a hostel, 13 Euro a night, and that leaves me with 5 Euro and the handful of change. The nearest ATM is 10 miles away and I now have to spend 10 Euro to rent a bike and ride the 10 miles to it. The bike thing isn’t so bad, I would have done it anyway, but there is some principle behind having to spend 10 Euro to get more Euro.
The second mistake, which is really the only mistake, makes me even more frustrated with myself. Trinity College of Dublin is located in the heart of Dublin. TCD is world famous, established back in the 1500’s. I would know the exact date but I don’t because the long sleeved T-shirt that I bought this morning which had the name of the school and the date established on it seems to be missing. For the life of me I can’t remember what I did with it. The logical conclusion is that I left it at the hostel in Dublin when I was obtaining my backpack. I had initially carried it in my top sack while I walked around Dublin this morning. After retrieving my full backpack, I intended on switching items around to make more space in the rather small top sack for books and other things I would need on the bus journey. It must have been during that switch that the shirt was left behind.
I am frustrated because this is not the first thing on this trip that I have lost, and most likely it won’t be the last. I have also lost a 10 Euro note, and a couple socks. The socks are no big deal, and the 10 Euros is upsetting, but the shirt today cost me 20 Euro. That is 20 Euro down the drain unless some kind traveler decides to turn it in and the hostel holds it for a week. Now the real question is that after returning to Dublin, do I purchase another shirt, or punish myself for being stupido? I haven’t decided on that one yet.
Now I feel that after all this moaning you deserve some lighter talk about the countryside and how wonderful everything is. Sorry, it is late now and I just don’t feel up to all the light and fluffy stuff. The country side is wonderful and I promise to talk about it tomorrow.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Just realizing this, you all don’t have to wait because I will be posting all of these at the same time. I take back my apology.
Pint 1: First and maybe last!
An Inspiron 2650 laptop, made by Dell, weights 7.6 pounds. The largest percentage of that weight is found in the battery. Unfortunately, the battery is a necessary part of a laptop. It is really the part that makes it functional as a “lap” top computer. The 7.6 pounds of my Dell Inspiron 2650 laptop also make up the largest percentage of my packed weight. This means that the battery in the laptop is the heaviest of the heaviest things that I am packing around. Logic would say that the heaviest thing a person is lugging around would be the most essential and most used item. Logic would say. Since I consider myself a pretty logical person, it can be assumed that my computer is the most important or at least most used thing I brought. Does anyone know what happens when you assume?
My 7.6 pounds of plastic and electronics have up till now, three days that is, been nothing more than dead weight. It has been useful only in increasing my cardiovascular fitness and the size of my legs as I carried it from hostel to hostel. I have decided to change that today. Before I left Germany, I was debating with Jordan about whether I should bring the computer or not. When I decided to stay in Europe for the extra two months, it pretty much answered the question of taking or leaving it. A goal in bringing my computer along was to do just this. So I will.
There are a few things that I need to point out. One, I am not perfect. I make mistakes. I will tell you about a few of those mistakes in a minute, but first I have some good stories. The mistakes actually make the stories.
Each of these
My 7.6 pounds of plastic and electronics have up till now, three days that is, been nothing more than dead weight. It has been useful only in increasing my cardiovascular fitness and the size of my legs as I carried it from hostel to hostel. I have decided to change that today. Before I left Germany, I was debating with Jordan about whether I should bring the computer or not. When I decided to stay in Europe for the extra two months, it pretty much answered the question of taking or leaving it. A goal in bringing my computer along was to do just this. So I will.
There are a few things that I need to point out. One, I am not perfect. I make mistakes. I will tell you about a few of those mistakes in a minute, but first I have some good stories. The mistakes actually make the stories.
Each of these
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Day 62:Oops, I did it again!
Anyone that knows me is going to get a kick out of this. First let me say that I am on the Stanstead Express to the airport and no long in a hurry, but that wasn’t the case minutes ago.
I was finishing my second and final day in London, more on that to follow, and it was time to leave. To leave the city, I had an extensive walk back to the Ashlee House, the hostel I stayed the night in, before catching the 1700 express. Somehow I miss calculated my distance from the hostel and found myself running a bit behind schedule. That is odd because I am rarely, if ever late. But late I was. I had to swing by the hostel to pick up my bag, send a quick email to Jordan, and that was it. Hustling into the hostel, I paid for 20 minutes of Internet time and jogged down stairs. Four minutes into the 20 something happened. Well, something was trying to happen and I was trying to keep it from happening. Unable to contain it any longer, I dove for the luie and made it just in time for a buttxplosion.
I have discovered that with each country change, my bowels adjust, ever so slightly. No Caddick like episodes have caught me with my pants up, but there have been some close calls. I remember back to Iraq when the doctors there diagnosed near everyone with STF Syndrome (Scared To Fart). My first day in Iraq, I was warned that it happens to everyone, no one is immune, everyone has to clean out their shorts at least once. I broke the mold, but not without much conscience effort and diligent prior planning.
I completely forgot to tell you the whole point of this blog. Back track a little to London. I have successfully made it to the toilet, done my thing, and begin completing the necessary post toilet actions. Remember that I am in a hurry. I go to flush and nothing happens. It would be rude to leave in the bowl what I just put there, so I flush again only this time harder. Again nothing! I am now desperate and running way behind so I push really hard and… SNAP!! Can you believe it? I break the handle. What now? I can’t leave this fowl stench plastered to the sides of the bowl. Brown chunks everywhere, and you have to know that in most of Europe, at least everywhere I have been, they have the low-flow, water saving toilets where the bowl barely fills with water so anything left is not submersed and aromatically takes over. My engineering training takes over. I pull the top off, yank on the plunger thingy and yes, it flushes. I am in business now. I beat feet back upstairs, grab my bag, inform the cute desk chick of my destructive dealings, and make it to the train in just enough time.
This reminds me of another story about my dad. He was at Chile’s when… (just kidding, enough toilet humor.)
Enjoy the rest of your day. May it be filled with happy thoughts and solid BMs.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
I was finishing my second and final day in London, more on that to follow, and it was time to leave. To leave the city, I had an extensive walk back to the Ashlee House, the hostel I stayed the night in, before catching the 1700 express. Somehow I miss calculated my distance from the hostel and found myself running a bit behind schedule. That is odd because I am rarely, if ever late. But late I was. I had to swing by the hostel to pick up my bag, send a quick email to Jordan, and that was it. Hustling into the hostel, I paid for 20 minutes of Internet time and jogged down stairs. Four minutes into the 20 something happened. Well, something was trying to happen and I was trying to keep it from happening. Unable to contain it any longer, I dove for the luie and made it just in time for a buttxplosion.
I have discovered that with each country change, my bowels adjust, ever so slightly. No Caddick like episodes have caught me with my pants up, but there have been some close calls. I remember back to Iraq when the doctors there diagnosed near everyone with STF Syndrome (Scared To Fart). My first day in Iraq, I was warned that it happens to everyone, no one is immune, everyone has to clean out their shorts at least once. I broke the mold, but not without much conscience effort and diligent prior planning.
I completely forgot to tell you the whole point of this blog. Back track a little to London. I have successfully made it to the toilet, done my thing, and begin completing the necessary post toilet actions. Remember that I am in a hurry. I go to flush and nothing happens. It would be rude to leave in the bowl what I just put there, so I flush again only this time harder. Again nothing! I am now desperate and running way behind so I push really hard and… SNAP!! Can you believe it? I break the handle. What now? I can’t leave this fowl stench plastered to the sides of the bowl. Brown chunks everywhere, and you have to know that in most of Europe, at least everywhere I have been, they have the low-flow, water saving toilets where the bowl barely fills with water so anything left is not submersed and aromatically takes over. My engineering training takes over. I pull the top off, yank on the plunger thingy and yes, it flushes. I am in business now. I beat feet back upstairs, grab my bag, inform the cute desk chick of my destructive dealings, and make it to the train in just enough time.
This reminds me of another story about my dad. He was at Chile’s when… (just kidding, enough toilet humor.)
Enjoy the rest of your day. May it be filled with happy thoughts and solid BMs.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Monday, May 9, 2005
Day 61: Going Away
To all my peoples:
Chow!
...
...
Was anyone getting nervous? No seriously, anyone? No one? Not one of you was worried that I was leaving? Well, I am. For at least a while. And dying in your beds, many years from now, would you be willin' to trade ALL the days, from this day to that, for one chance, just one chance, to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take away our lives, but they'll never take... OUR FREEDOM! Uh, sorry, I get a little carried away. I think it is because I am off to Scotland and Ireland. Well, actually Ireland then Scotland. I fly out today for London, spend a day there and then head out to the West coast of Ireland, Doolin to be exact. This is pretty exciting because these next two weeks are going to be very isolating for me. I plan on being alone most of the time and I look forward to being alone.
What this means is that it may be a while till my next post, it may be a few days, it may be two weeks, it may be longer, I just don't know. If any of you are worried, and it seems no one is, but if any of you become worried, don't be. I will save up my travels and post copious amounts of stuff when I do get a chance. (Copious, isn't that a great word? It is a big little word, not many letters, but vast in meaning. A good word.) Consider this time as one that you use as reflection on your own life. Consider what Jesus is doing for you and how He so desires for you to grow in the grace and knowledge of Him.
That is all I wanted to say. During this alone time I will try to post, no promises, but I'm tryin', Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be a shepherd.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Chow!
...
...
Was anyone getting nervous? No seriously, anyone? No one? Not one of you was worried that I was leaving? Well, I am. For at least a while. And dying in your beds, many years from now, would you be willin' to trade ALL the days, from this day to that, for one chance, just one chance, to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take away our lives, but they'll never take... OUR FREEDOM! Uh, sorry, I get a little carried away. I think it is because I am off to Scotland and Ireland. Well, actually Ireland then Scotland. I fly out today for London, spend a day there and then head out to the West coast of Ireland, Doolin to be exact. This is pretty exciting because these next two weeks are going to be very isolating for me. I plan on being alone most of the time and I look forward to being alone.
What this means is that it may be a while till my next post, it may be a few days, it may be two weeks, it may be longer, I just don't know. If any of you are worried, and it seems no one is, but if any of you become worried, don't be. I will save up my travels and post copious amounts of stuff when I do get a chance. (Copious, isn't that a great word? It is a big little word, not many letters, but vast in meaning. A good word.) Consider this time as one that you use as reflection on your own life. Consider what Jesus is doing for you and how He so desires for you to grow in the grace and knowledge of Him.
That is all I wanted to say. During this alone time I will try to post, no promises, but I'm tryin', Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be a shepherd.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Friday, May 6, 2005
day 58: what did she say?
so there is this girl cat. she is one of the students that i met while in slovakia on the service project. if you are reading the comments of my posts then you have seen her additions. (You guys have to know that I am trying really hard NOT to capitalize any of the words because I am totally down with all the new typing methods of the yoots of today. It is really hard!) so the previous post was to get her info, but then i figured out that i could just click on her name and, volia, i was at her blog.
then i started reading her blog. (sorry cat if this embarrasses you) what in the world is she saying? it is like a foreign language. due to copy right infringenments i can't include some of her writings. oh, what the heck, i was never one to follow rules. cat, please don't kill me.
here is a sample:
Interests: heh- depends, whatever comes my way may or may not interest me. Can't really name wut does or doesn't. Like everyone else I'm lovin' the music n' movies. The internet is ruling my life... @_@ -heh i'm really working on that too...-and erm... i'm religious? ya that'll be my interest.^^ "Just u n' me Lord- u n' me!" O ya, I'm on the swim team here n' horseback ride- auf Deutsch xD ... as u can see this is the greatness of me- well, tis my friends who are the real secret to it, gotta love em'.
Expertise: Expertise... wut expertise??? sleepin' in? strangly being similar to my 2 cats...??cramming for tests drivin by the feeling of desperation??? heh ya that works ^^
Occupation: Student
so i read this, read it again, and on the third time, with the help of barb, figured out sort of what she was saying. (couple things cat. 1. how do you turn off the song on your blog. 2. just becuase i, an old completely out of touch curmudgeon, doesn't immediately understand you, you shouldn't be offended. i would actually take it as a compliment.) those kids these days. what are they getting into.
barb is actually reading this over my shoulder as i type, which i have to say wierds me out and makes me a little self conscience. she had just before this post typed a quick email to a friend of hers about me staying with him in london next week. i was chastising her about not using the shift key and she said something about it being an email and how she couldn't be bothered with wasting the milli-seconds it takes to move either of her pinkies over to the convienently enlarged shift key to use what most of the mature adult world would consider proper communication. that is why i am trying my hardest not to use the shift key and you all can't tell, but i have had to go back a number of times to make the "correction".
so i had another point to this blog. months ago when i first started my blog, i read a post of a good friend of mine, adam avitable, about the whole vernacular that has been created by the youth of today. he posted the following link and text about... well just read it yourself. why would you want me to describe the link when you can just read it yourself. it is sort of like reading a critics comments about a movie when you can just go watch the movie yourself. or even better, reading someone else take on the bible and who they think God is (I am sorry, I just couldn't not capitalize God. He is well... the supreme being and could smite me so i try to not piss Him off as much as i can. frankly i don't always feel like i am doing a good job of not pissing Him off, even now as i type.) instead of just talking to Him themselves and getting His take on Himself. Follow me?
here is the link:
http://www.microsoft.com/athome/security/children/kidtalk.mspx
the thing that i find the funniest is that it is microsoft that published this info. it is so like some big corporate company trying to write about something they have no clue about. like me writing about slovakia's history.
anyway, i hope you guys are as frustrated with reading this blog without caps as i was in typing it. now i got to go because it is rather rude that i am sitting here on the computer while jordan and my guest is still reading over my shoulder. actually, ignoring her like this makes me feel more like today's society, no real relationships, just a computer and a broadband connect. so to all my "friends" out there... BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
until then and tomorrow.
jason
ps - in the spirit of the blog, i am also not spell checking or rereading this one, but my old school self can't not tell you that because i am too self conscience about misspelling something or using poor grammer. (that and i have been berated once before about a typo, erika!)
then i started reading her blog. (sorry cat if this embarrasses you) what in the world is she saying? it is like a foreign language. due to copy right infringenments i can't include some of her writings. oh, what the heck, i was never one to follow rules. cat, please don't kill me.
here is a sample:
Interests: heh- depends, whatever comes my way may or may not interest me. Can't really name wut does or doesn't. Like everyone else I'm lovin' the music n' movies. The internet is ruling my life... @_@ -heh i'm really working on that too...-and erm... i'm religious? ya that'll be my interest.^^ "Just u n' me Lord- u n' me!" O ya, I'm on the swim team here n' horseback ride- auf Deutsch xD ... as u can see this is the greatness of me- well, tis my friends who are the real secret to it, gotta love em'.
Expertise: Expertise... wut expertise??? sleepin' in? strangly being similar to my 2 cats...??cramming for tests drivin by the feeling of desperation??? heh ya that works ^^
Occupation: Student
so i read this, read it again, and on the third time, with the help of barb, figured out sort of what she was saying. (couple things cat. 1. how do you turn off the song on your blog. 2. just becuase i, an old completely out of touch curmudgeon, doesn't immediately understand you, you shouldn't be offended. i would actually take it as a compliment.) those kids these days. what are they getting into.
barb is actually reading this over my shoulder as i type, which i have to say wierds me out and makes me a little self conscience. she had just before this post typed a quick email to a friend of hers about me staying with him in london next week. i was chastising her about not using the shift key and she said something about it being an email and how she couldn't be bothered with wasting the milli-seconds it takes to move either of her pinkies over to the convienently enlarged shift key to use what most of the mature adult world would consider proper communication. that is why i am trying my hardest not to use the shift key and you all can't tell, but i have had to go back a number of times to make the "correction".
so i had another point to this blog. months ago when i first started my blog, i read a post of a good friend of mine, adam avitable, about the whole vernacular that has been created by the youth of today. he posted the following link and text about... well just read it yourself. why would you want me to describe the link when you can just read it yourself. it is sort of like reading a critics comments about a movie when you can just go watch the movie yourself. or even better, reading someone else take on the bible and who they think God is (I am sorry, I just couldn't not capitalize God. He is well... the supreme being and could smite me so i try to not piss Him off as much as i can. frankly i don't always feel like i am doing a good job of not pissing Him off, even now as i type.) instead of just talking to Him themselves and getting His take on Himself. Follow me?
here is the link:
http://www.microsoft.com/athome/security/children/kidtalk.mspx
the thing that i find the funniest is that it is microsoft that published this info. it is so like some big corporate company trying to write about something they have no clue about. like me writing about slovakia's history.
anyway, i hope you guys are as frustrated with reading this blog without caps as i was in typing it. now i got to go because it is rather rude that i am sitting here on the computer while jordan and my guest is still reading over my shoulder. actually, ignoring her like this makes me feel more like today's society, no real relationships, just a computer and a broadband connect. so to all my "friends" out there... BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
until then and tomorrow.
jason
ps - in the spirit of the blog, i am also not spell checking or rereading this one, but my old school self can't not tell you that because i am too self conscience about misspelling something or using poor grammer. (that and i have been berated once before about a typo, erika!)
Day 58: Cat?
How do you spell the girls name that sounds like "KT". Caty is one way; Katie another. Catherine works too, right? I am writing all this as an introduction for a question to Cat.
Cat, can you send me an email or something so I can respond to your comments? How are things going anyway?
Jason
Cat, can you send me an email or something so I can respond to your comments? How are things going anyway?
Jason
Thursday, May 5, 2005
Day 57: Who's tired?
I am back from Italy, back from Bamberg, back from traveling. I am tired. I am tired. Yesterday was the train ride from Bamberg back into Ansbach. It was a peaceful ride on a smaller regional train. I spent most of the time either reading my recently purchased April 18th edition of Sports Illustrated, the one with Tiger on the cover (Dad, I am surprised you didn’t email me about his victory), or writing post cards and a Mother's day card for... well, you know who, why do I have to spell it out for you? What you can't figure it out? OK, it was for my wonderful mom who I love more than life itself.
After the train ride, Jordan picked me up and we headed back to his place. The plan was to hang out there for a bit and then head onto base so he could finish some office work. I was up for anything, after my nap. Something hit me around 1800 that afternoon and I couldn't keep my eyes open. Every time I sat down, and especially layed down, I was out. I think this vacation is catching up with me. This morning I made up for the fatigue a bit by sleeping until 1030. It was glorious.
I am trying to think of my point... It had something to do with Slovakia... I can't remember... Oh well...
Here is where things get interesting. I know there are more things to write about Slovakia. I know there is, but it was so long ago, we are talking weeks, that I have pretty much moved on. This is another reason I could never be a writer. Another problem is that I can't remember what I have written about and I am too lazy to go back and reread what I previously wrote. Did I tell you guys about Christian? I think so. If not then that is a great story. Someone send me a note telling me whether I did or didn't.
I want to tell you more about Slovakia. The last couple days were filled with the same basic events of the first, but the atmosphere was building towards the completion of the playground and the end of the week. (OK, I did it. I went back and looked at my previous posts. I did tell you about Christian so there is no need for anyone to let me know that I did.) The students had both a sense of purpose and also the general fatigue of having worked hard for five days in a row. Remember, we are talking about high school students so they haven't experienced a real 40 hr/wk job and don't know that the rest of the world works most days. Actually, I have never experienced a real 40 hr/wk job and don't know either. Also, over here in Europe they don't work nearly as hard as us Yankees work. Here is an example.
Auto shops are not allowed to open on a Saturday. It is actually against the law. The laws in Germany are very much to the benefit of the worker, not the consumer. Sundays are pretty much, "don't get anything done days" also. This means that if you have business to conduct you have to do it Monday through Friday. If you have a job, tough luck, take the time off of work. Shopping really doesn't happen on the weekends because people don't work then. You can't have a retail store open without making employees work on the weekend and people don't work on the weekend. This is a gross over simplification, but I am trying to make a point.
So the students are growing tired after their many hours of laborious activity. That is when the leaders have to really step up and provide the motivation to get the job done. I did just that through my expertise as a United States Army Officer. I took over the very important role of "Official Delegator". I told everyone what to do! Hey, it is a tough job, but some one, with great skill and vocal abilities, has to do it. You guys don't understand, it is hard to look busy after you have delegated out all the jobs. Having many years of experience with that sort of task, I accomplished it brilliantly, if I do say so myself.
My time has once again come to an end, and once again, I don't think I said anything, really. Tomorrow, I will conclude Slovakia. I think.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
After the train ride, Jordan picked me up and we headed back to his place. The plan was to hang out there for a bit and then head onto base so he could finish some office work. I was up for anything, after my nap. Something hit me around 1800 that afternoon and I couldn't keep my eyes open. Every time I sat down, and especially layed down, I was out. I think this vacation is catching up with me. This morning I made up for the fatigue a bit by sleeping until 1030. It was glorious.
I am trying to think of my point... It had something to do with Slovakia... I can't remember... Oh well...
Here is where things get interesting. I know there are more things to write about Slovakia. I know there is, but it was so long ago, we are talking weeks, that I have pretty much moved on. This is another reason I could never be a writer. Another problem is that I can't remember what I have written about and I am too lazy to go back and reread what I previously wrote. Did I tell you guys about Christian? I think so. If not then that is a great story. Someone send me a note telling me whether I did or didn't.
I want to tell you more about Slovakia. The last couple days were filled with the same basic events of the first, but the atmosphere was building towards the completion of the playground and the end of the week. (OK, I did it. I went back and looked at my previous posts. I did tell you about Christian so there is no need for anyone to let me know that I did.) The students had both a sense of purpose and also the general fatigue of having worked hard for five days in a row. Remember, we are talking about high school students so they haven't experienced a real 40 hr/wk job and don't know that the rest of the world works most days. Actually, I have never experienced a real 40 hr/wk job and don't know either. Also, over here in Europe they don't work nearly as hard as us Yankees work. Here is an example.
Auto shops are not allowed to open on a Saturday. It is actually against the law. The laws in Germany are very much to the benefit of the worker, not the consumer. Sundays are pretty much, "don't get anything done days" also. This means that if you have business to conduct you have to do it Monday through Friday. If you have a job, tough luck, take the time off of work. Shopping really doesn't happen on the weekends because people don't work then. You can't have a retail store open without making employees work on the weekend and people don't work on the weekend. This is a gross over simplification, but I am trying to make a point.
So the students are growing tired after their many hours of laborious activity. That is when the leaders have to really step up and provide the motivation to get the job done. I did just that through my expertise as a United States Army Officer. I took over the very important role of "Official Delegator". I told everyone what to do! Hey, it is a tough job, but some one, with great skill and vocal abilities, has to do it. You guys don't understand, it is hard to look busy after you have delegated out all the jobs. Having many years of experience with that sort of task, I accomplished it brilliantly, if I do say so myself.
My time has once again come to an end, and once again, I don't think I said anything, really. Tomorrow, I will conclude Slovakia. I think.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Wednesday, May 4, 2005
Day 50 something: Too tired to figure out the date
So I am up in Bamberg, Germany visiting with a new friend Josh Butrin, www.burtin.org. I came up here to talk about Young Life, MCYM staff, and all that Jazz. I am telling you all this for no reason because my actual plan is to wrap up Italy in one short blog. I haven't been able to do that ever in the past, but maybe tonight, my extra sleepy body will force my mind and hands to type less. It isn't working out so far.
Let’s recap. Italy began in Vicenza with Jim, Mandy, Juls, and the rest of the gang. There was also the family that Jordan, mom, auntie, and I stayed with, but I can't spell or pronounce their name. We enjoyed Venice. Then it was off to Rome and the thwarms, that is like swarms only much many more. St. Pete’s, JP II, super old buildings, and Carabinieri. In between stays in Rome, we sung down to Naples and Pompeii.
Pompeii was cool. Not my favorite. (Sorry Jordan! He for some reason loved it. I don't understand, but there are a lot of things about Jordan that I don't understand. Jordan is more than I want to get into right now.) It could have been because a couple hours into walking around Pompeii, I tore a huge gash in my big toe. I have pictures It didn't hurt immediately, but it sure bled like a stuck pig. (I don't know where the statement stuck pig came from, or why I even used it except that I didn't want to use a cuss word there. Jordan was getting on me about my language or potential language the other day. I apparently haven't learned. That reminds me of something that I left out of my Carabinieri story. See, right after the two dudes grabbed me, my sinful mouth opened up and F#%K came out. I don't know where it came from, but considering the circumstances it was sort of understandable. I am not justifying my words but pointing them out to say that I, like everyone else, accept apparently Mary the mother of Jesus according to the Catholics, am a sinful human who deserves to rot in hell. Jordan was very concerned about my language. Me too, because out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks. At that critical point in my apprehension, my heart wasn't overflowing with Christ. Funny thing too is that what little English the cop dudes spoke, they knew that word and me saying it didn't help my situation. I was apologizing for saying it as soon as it came out of my mouth.) For me, that was the most interesting part of the day, well that and the driving. Have you ever heard the saying, "You drive like an Italian."? Neither have I, but there should be one, because Italians are crazy, crazy drivers.
After Naples, it was back to Rome for the night. I had forgotten my memory card for my camera, which gave us a perfect excuse to go back. The evening great because Henry had a Karaoke game for his PS2 and we, we meaning the kids, played it. I tried once and sucked hard core. I got the most laughs out of everyone there, but I also scored the lowest of everyone. That confirms what I already knew. My voice is best heard when accompanied by incredible volumes of other sounds and should never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever be amplified. Noe did the best in a single song and Henry wasn't half bad.
From Rome, we went to Florence, for about 15 minutes, Pisa, for an hour, and then Camp Darby and the beach. I was so excited about going to the Mediterranean for the first time. It could have been because I heard that the chicks there go topless, but I don't think that was the reason. Maybe it was, but I would never admit it to anyone. I didn't see a topless girl there and wasn't disappointed. Leaving Darby we stopped in Cinque Terre and then back to Germany. We had dinner in Terino in Northern Italy with some more of Jordan's friend.
We took our time getting back and stopped in Gebalshtop for a few hours. That was pretty much the end of the Italy part of the trip. There are a few more things that happened in Germany on the last two days, like Noe and Auntie getting there passports switched, but that is another time.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Let’s recap. Italy began in Vicenza with Jim, Mandy, Juls, and the rest of the gang. There was also the family that Jordan, mom, auntie, and I stayed with, but I can't spell or pronounce their name. We enjoyed Venice. Then it was off to Rome and the thwarms, that is like swarms only much many more. St. Pete’s, JP II, super old buildings, and Carabinieri. In between stays in Rome, we sung down to Naples and Pompeii.
Pompeii was cool. Not my favorite. (Sorry Jordan! He for some reason loved it. I don't understand, but there are a lot of things about Jordan that I don't understand. Jordan is more than I want to get into right now.) It could have been because a couple hours into walking around Pompeii, I tore a huge gash in my big toe. I have pictures It didn't hurt immediately, but it sure bled like a stuck pig. (I don't know where the statement stuck pig came from, or why I even used it except that I didn't want to use a cuss word there. Jordan was getting on me about my language or potential language the other day. I apparently haven't learned. That reminds me of something that I left out of my Carabinieri story. See, right after the two dudes grabbed me, my sinful mouth opened up and F#%K came out. I don't know where it came from, but considering the circumstances it was sort of understandable. I am not justifying my words but pointing them out to say that I, like everyone else, accept apparently Mary the mother of Jesus according to the Catholics, am a sinful human who deserves to rot in hell. Jordan was very concerned about my language. Me too, because out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks. At that critical point in my apprehension, my heart wasn't overflowing with Christ. Funny thing too is that what little English the cop dudes spoke, they knew that word and me saying it didn't help my situation. I was apologizing for saying it as soon as it came out of my mouth.) For me, that was the most interesting part of the day, well that and the driving. Have you ever heard the saying, "You drive like an Italian."? Neither have I, but there should be one, because Italians are crazy, crazy drivers.
After Naples, it was back to Rome for the night. I had forgotten my memory card for my camera, which gave us a perfect excuse to go back. The evening great because Henry had a Karaoke game for his PS2 and we, we meaning the kids, played it. I tried once and sucked hard core. I got the most laughs out of everyone there, but I also scored the lowest of everyone. That confirms what I already knew. My voice is best heard when accompanied by incredible volumes of other sounds and should never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever be amplified. Noe did the best in a single song and Henry wasn't half bad.
From Rome, we went to Florence, for about 15 minutes, Pisa, for an hour, and then Camp Darby and the beach. I was so excited about going to the Mediterranean for the first time. It could have been because I heard that the chicks there go topless, but I don't think that was the reason. Maybe it was, but I would never admit it to anyone. I didn't see a topless girl there and wasn't disappointed. Leaving Darby we stopped in Cinque Terre and then back to Germany. We had dinner in Terino in Northern Italy with some more of Jordan's friend.
We took our time getting back and stopped in Gebalshtop for a few hours. That was pretty much the end of the Italy part of the trip. There are a few more things that happened in Germany on the last two days, like Noe and Auntie getting there passports switched, but that is another time.
Until then and tomorrow.
Jason
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
