Sunday, October 24, 2010

It Makes Me Laugh and Laugh

Earlier in the year, there were a wave of layoffs at the company I eventually ended up leaving because my boss wouldn't hire me.

The people that were let go weren't happy, and I took one of them out to lunch so she could vent and steam about what an idiot my boss was (because it was my boss that recommended she be let go.) I did not dispute her assessment of my boss, I just nodded and let her bitch and bitch and bitch, because sometimes you need someone to do that for you.

This gal was also approaching a wedding date, and to be suddenly thrust in the midst of uncertainty when you're trying to make THAT thing happen was traumatic, to say the least.

So I recommended that she do what I always wanted to do and take a spontaneous vacation. You've got severance, and you've got nowhere to be. So you can hit up one of the travel sites, look at their deals for the week, the ones where they discount airfare, hotel rooms, all sorts of things, if you're willing to travel that very weekend. Which you can't necessarily do if you have a job. It's one of the few things you can do when freshly fired that makes you feel better.

She actually listened to me (which rarely happens. Nobody ever listens to me, heh.) and ended up going to San Francisco for the weekend and having a great time.

While I was stuck in the Business Affairs Shaky Building O FUN, I found myself looking forward towards the end date, even when I didn't know what it was, and I found myself idly looking at those travel deals. I haven't been anywhere this year, and this year is (thankfully) almost over. Last year, I bounced all over the place, and next year, I'll probably be bouncing all over the place again.

But where could I realistically go this year? For not much money? All the places on the travel deals list skew towards the romantic, and it would be awkward to go by myself.

But then. I remembered that Virgin America had just recently opened a new non-stop route to Orlando. Orlando, where sister Agatha, Mr. Agatha and Bug live. I checked out the website, and they were indeed having a sale if I traveled before a specific date.

A quick huddle with sister Agatha concluded that yes, yes, yes, I definitely needed to come visit over Halloween weekend.

Which prompted a reaction somewhat like Cookie Monster below. (Some of you, perhaps a lot of you, have already seen this making the rounds on the web. I don't care.)

Cookie Monster

That is unmitigated joy on Cookie Monster's face, courtesy of the Cake Boss episode celebrating Sesame Street's 40th anniversary. I can watch this for up to five minutes at a time, laughing and laughing and laughing.

And it will be unmitigated joy on my face when I step on that Virgin American flight on Thursday. Agatha's already got the weekend planned out. It involves water parks, Universal Studios, Halloween costumes, and buckets and buckets of candy.

My life is looking up. :)

Monday, October 18, 2010

It's Your Move, Enough With The Teasing

I’ve been hearing chatter here and there about how we need to be honest before God. As someone who’s so honest with God, I feel chummy enough to claim He’s slacking on the job AND occasionally drop the F bomb AND feel massive amounts of guilt on top of it, I don’t understand not being honest with Him.

What’s the point of keeping things back from the One who knows everything anyway? I would like to know why anyone would keep things back. It’s just speedier to show warts and all on the first go around. I’m trying to make life changes, and I’m SO impatient. Productivity is key, heh.

Anyways, let’s talk about failure to progress! Waaaaa-hoooooooooo!

Just when I thought I was done with the month long temp gig working at the job I didn’t want, I get called BACK! For a week. Working two cubicles down from where I was, working for two other people. They’re nicer, which is good. And it’s only for a week, which is good.

But yeah. Here I was putting all my hope in God to lead on, lead on...and He leads me back to the same dismal hamster wheel. Well, that’s just GREAT, God! Yes, that is sarcasm, God. Let’s be honest with our warts and all.

I demand you do something with me, God. I demand you move and work in my life in a big fat huge way that doesn’t involve physical pain and/or me losing limbs. I’ve cleared everything out, it’s your move. IT’S YOUR MOVE, GOD.

You know what’s hilarious about the building I’ve been working in for the past month? It’s built on top of a subterranean parking garage. And at certain times in the morning, and later on in the afternoon, when the cars come in to work, or go out from work, and all that weight is going over the same bumps, the entire building...shivers. And shudders. And trembles. A potential earthquake that never happens.

Day after day of enduring these baby tremors, and I’m ready to blow my top. I’m not frightened, I’m annoyed, I’m like JUST SHAKE THE BUILDING DOWN ALREADY! ENOUGH WITH THE TEASING! I can’t imagine how people who work here full time endure it.

There’s actually an earthquake drill scheduled for later on in the week. We get to hide under our desks for a minute. Somebody is actually timing us. Heh.

Monday, October 11, 2010

Ginger Puppy Strikes Again

Part 1 proved to be one of the most popular posts on the blog this year. So behold: Part 2 of Ginger Puppy's Metaphorical Journey with God. (This thing practically writes itself.)

The second chapter with Ginger Puppy and God happened this past weekend. Let's listen in on their conversation, shall we?

You promised.

I know, I know. But very technically, I haven't broken any promises yet.

Oh yeah? Just look at me.

I know, I know. You look...

Just say it.

You look uncomfy.

I look STUPID!

Not to me.

I look like a furry four year old auditioning for a blue daisy in Alice In Wonderland!

I could see that. But you're not.

You said you'd take care of me!

I am. I promise you, I am.

If you were gonna take care of me, why is this happening all over again!?!?

I said I'd take care of you. I didn't say I'd stop bad things from ever happening to you ever again.

Explain yourself!

Amy's my translator, and she's not a vet.


Your leg isn't healing quite the way they hoped. So they went in there to look around and see what they could see, and to remove the bracing that was there from the last surgery. And we're still waiting for the results.


Not to me, you don't. I love you, Ginger Puppy.


Some people appreciate that about me.


Alright, alright, get it out. Let it all out.





I am helping you, Ginger Puppy.


I know, I know.


I can't make it grow back any faster than the normal fur growing rate for dogs.


I'm here. I promise you I'm right here.


I know it does. I know. Let's go watch a movie in the media room. I'll sit on the floor, and you can lean next to me, and I'll pet your leg and everything'll be fine.


Whatever you want, Ginger Puppy.


You'll fall asleep in ten minutes, and everything will be fine.


I know, I know. But I'm here, I promise you. I will be here for you. I'll feed you, I'll hide the pain pills in cheddar cheese slices so you don't have to taste them. I'll pick you up so you don't have to walk up the stairs. I'll make you a nice towel pad bed next to my bed so you don't have to lay on the hard floor and you'll be as close to me as possible. I'll even take the collar off sometimes, because I know you don't like it.


And then I'll put the collar back on.

Whatever happens next, little one. How ever long it takes to heal, whatever the results come back as. I will not leave you. I promise you that. You're not going through this alone.


I know, little one. I know.

I know.

Sunday, October 03, 2010

Amy Attempts To Meditate On God's Word (with Crankypants Results)

I’m doing a few new things at church which involve a few new groups, which means I get to bust out my standard disclaimer that I’m Amy The Writer, I tend to be cranky and needlessly specific, so don’t come at me with your biblical clich├ęs and not expect me to demand real life examples.

And in one of the meetings today, I was again demanding that somebody tell me what the old chestnut of Romans 12:2, “Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind” looks like in a modern day context.

The course materials we were given indicated that:

Transformed: not something I can do, it is the supernatural power of God’s grace.

Renewing: a process in which I make choices through the power of God’s grace.

So needlessly specific me wanted a Real Life example of what “making choices through the power of God’s grace” looks like.

There’s a typical hush that follows when I ask a question like this. And because I tend to be cranky when I ask it (otherwise I’d let it go) nobody really wants to be the first to answer, and I get it, I do. Why answer the Crankypants in the corner, right? She’s just cranky, and no real answer would satisfy her.

Eventually, a few people offered their thoughts, some of which included meditating on God’s truth as opposed to the lie we tend to believe (the theme of the class in general.) And if you wanna know what God’s truth is, you pick out a Bible verse (the example given was chestnut Psalm 139.) and think think THINK about it. A lot. For awhile. And again.

Running alongside this is my daily Bible devotionals. I’m almost done with my second tour of reading the Bible straight through (in Revelations now, always a fun wrap up) and last week, when I was cruising through 1, 2, and 3 John, these verses caught my eye (emphasis mine, but felt I should include all for context):

1 John Ch. 3 vs. 18-20:
"18 Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth. 19This then is how we know that we belong to the truth, and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence 20whenever our hearts condemn us. For God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.”

The Message translates it like this:

18-20My dear children, let's not just talk about love; let's practice real love. This is the only way we'll know we're living truly, living in God's reality. It's also the way to shut down debilitating self-criticism, even when there is something to it. For God is greater than our worried hearts and knows more about us than we do ourselves.”

So, let’s take my class’s advice, and meditate on God’s truth, shall we? It shall be a stream of consciousness, so we can ALL see a small sliver of how Amy’s Brain Works.


Hi, God. It’s Amy The Writer aka Crankypants.

Thank You for this word. Thank You that You gave it to John, who then gave it to his peeps, and thank You for the long long long line of people that came between Then and Now so I can read it.

Thank You that I live in a nation where I can read something like this without fear or threat of persecution, as I know that is a right that not everyone has.

How do I set my heart at rest in Your presence?

I’m supposed to love with actions, I’m supposed to love in truth.

(this is also how I know that I belong to the truth, but I’m less concerned about that right now.)

Honestly, I don’t see the correlation.

I’m an awful person, because I don’t WANT to love with actions and in truth. I want my heart to be at rest in Your presence.

I want not to worry, not to fret, not to be anxious about how this year has sucked so much, and I’ve begged You all year to move me where You want me to be, I’ve been begging You all year to reach down and grab my hand, begging You to meet me halfway, if not all the way. I’ve invited, cajoled, pleaded with You to show up and start working.

When You didn’t move in my life, I moved. When You didn’t point the way, I decided on a direction myself (bear in mind that I repeatedly asked You for input and opinions. I made these choices in the absence of Your response.)

How do I set my heart at rest in Your presence when there’s a notable lack of response from You? How do I even know I’m in Your presence, as opposed to me typing away at my computer? I’m meditating on Your word right now, but it doesn’t feel any different, no angelic chorus announcing the arrival of Amy Crankypants Writer in Your Hallowed Hallway (whatever that looks like.)

Read the rest of the passage, Crankypants.

19This then is how we know that we belong to the truth, and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence 20whenever our hearts condemn us. For God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.”

Does my heart condemn me?

It's also the way to shut down debilitating self-criticism, even when there is something to it. For God is greater than our worried hearts and knows more about us than we do ourselves.”

What self criticism have I been enduring lately?

Ummmmm, actually, I’m putting it all on You, God. Because I’ve been working my ass off here. I’ve been moving and shaking and stuff. There’s not so much criticism of myself lately, as there is me criticizing YOU for not holding up Your end of the bargain.

Little one, you don’t get to criticize Me. I am the Lord Your God, if you wanna get all OT about it. I made the sun, the moon, the stars, and a bunch of other stuff that people sing hymns about in modern day church services. I gave you everything you have and are currently complaining about. You have your health (allergies notwithstanding) you live by yourself, you have money in the bank account, Ethel the car is still chugging away, your immediate family is alive and well (Mr. Agatha’s new cell phone not withstanding.) and you’re pissed off about the fact that you don’t have a full time job with health benefits that you wouldn’t even use, because I blessed you with such health that you only see a doctor once a year, and that’s your gynecologist.

What’s your problem, anyway?

I don’t have stability, God. I don’t know where we’re going, God.

Well, welcome to life, kiddo. Nobody does. Even when I’m actively working in their lives, and even when I’m not. Nobody knows exactly where they’re going. They only have a very vague sense of direction. Like...north. Or...southeast. Or...Africa. Or...middle school teacher. Or...parents to four boys.

I don’t even have that, God.

Get over yourself. You know who you are. You’re Amy The Writer. That’s your direction.

But what do I do with that, God? What do You want me to do with that, God? How am I supposed to advance Your kingdom with my gift like any good sermon would say I’m supposed to do when You won’t show up and move in my life and show me what You want me to do with it?

What do YOU wanna do with it?

I wanna get PAID for it! Enough to become my primary wage! Because it’s so exhausting to juggle the meaningless day job that I’m only doing to pay the bills, and the writing stuff. Failure to progress, God! Failure to progress!

With no positive reinforcement that Yes, You Are Supposed To Be Writing, it’s REALLY HARD to continue to believe that I’M SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING!

Why can’t the two be wonderfully integrated? I advance Your kingdom in some way and get paid enough to make it my sole occupation! Problem solved! Why isn’t it in Your will already!?

Little one, Methinks you focus on money too much.

Does that make me an awful person? Hey, my heart’s condemning me! We’re back on track with the verse! I PLANNED it that way!

For God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.”

For God is greater than our worried hearts and knows more about us than we do ourselves.”

So, God, You know a few things:

1. Amy The Writer is a Major Crankypants.
2. Amy The Writer isn’t gonna shut up about it anytime soon.
3. Amy The Writer wants You to DO SOMETHING ALREADY.
4. Amy The Writer doesn’t trust You.


Amy The Writer doesn’t trust You, the Lord Her God.

Why wouldn’t you trust Me, little one?

Because You haven’t shown up all year long.

Only from where you’re sitting, little one. You don’t see where I’m sitting. You don’t know about the things I’m working on for you and your adorable little Crankypants heart. Haven’t I surprised you in the past?

Well, yeah, but—

Well yeah, nothing. I was there for you in the past, why wouldn’t you think I’d be there for you now?

Because You’re NOT here. This is just me pretending to have a conversation with You, this is just me saying what I think You’d say if You were here.

You think I’m not here?

You haven’t been here all year.

Only from where you’re sitting, little one. You don’t see what I see. I see everything. I see beginning, middle and end. You only see what’s right in front of you. It’s cool. I know this about you anyway. You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.

You know I’m a brat.


You know I’m a bitch. An ungrateful Crankypants.

And all those other offensive terms you didn’t wanna write on a public blog.

You know I’m exhausting. You know I won’t shut up about it. And You know I’m not getting out of this ring until I get an answer from You.

I know.

Where’s my answer?

My time, not yours.

FUCK your time, God! Honestly!

I know, little one, I know.

Where’s my answer?

My time, not yours.

Where’s my answer?

My time, not yours.

Where’s my answer?

My time, not yours.

I’m not giving up, God.

I know, little one, I know. I love you anyway.

I don’t think anyone made it this far through the blog entry, God.

I know, little one, I know. You should go find some pretty pretty pictures later to break up the massive amounts of text.

Good idea, God. Thanks.

You’re welcome.