Preaching Drunk...

Last night I dreamt I was riding my bike to school (work?) from my old old house, and I crashed it and flew off into the cornfield, landing myself with a giant gash on the right side of my forehead. An instructor from college (Dr. Wandtke) stopped his car and took me to his house to get cleaned up. He handed me a tampon to wipe my face with and he told me he didn't have a mirror or a shiny plate or anything like that in his house that I could use. And then I was late for class (work?) and my car was still at home because apparently my family did not need to borrow it like they told me. But I rode to school (work?) anyway.

Stupid dreams. That was only one of a few I had last night. One involved Oz/Wonderland, a lot of ice, and a twenty story tall sword. Think Smithy. Oh, and my dad. Ugh.

Anycrazy...I won't bore you with my wacky subconscious.

Tonight is the night!

What night? You might ask...

Well, the night where we all get drunk at church!

Okay...okay...it's the Seder dinner. We have one every year to relive the captivity and exodus of the Israelites from Egypt. You eat strange, symbolic foods, listen to beautiful words, and drink lots of cheap red wine. No, seriously. It's like, "Blah blah blah...eat this strange food. Blah blah blah...drink your whole glass of wine."

I wasn't prepared for it last year...I got a little drunk. I think this year I'll try to scale back.

It's funny, though. This is the only year I've ever given up something for Lent, despite saying I wouldn't. And I'm not talking about giving up my job. That wasn't voluntary. But this is also the first year that Lent has actually meant something to me. It's a season of examining your life, of being in a hard place awaiting some good news, of getting rid of the excesses in your life and the things you know you should change. It's waiting for Spring. It's Spring cleaning for your life and soul.

I don't usually talk about my faith on my blog, but I really identify this year. I know a lot of you don't feel the same way, don't believe the same things, and that's perfectly fine. I don't expect you to. They're my beliefs, and they're not fact. They're not even popular among people who believe what I do. But you know what? They shape me. They comfort me. They allow me to love others when I don't want to. They are good. And in this Lenten season, when so much is thrown out, I'm keeping them.

Now let's all go to church and get drunk.

Out

Woodwind Hootenanery...

I had a dream last night that the bank got robbed. At clarinet-point.

I have to stop eating Tim Tams before bed.

In other news, we put up our Christmas tree! The cat seems not to care one bit. That's great news, considering we both have a history of cats that like to dive into or out of the tree, knocking it over and casuing damage to walls, floor, tree, and ornaments. But Marble seems content to sleep on a blanket on the couch and lick himself. Fair enough.

I'm sure I'll post photos of said tree once I take some worth sharing. Horribly lackluster, my photo taking skills as of late. Boo on that.

My Christmas shopping as half done. Robb is shopped for, as is my mom. Thank God for Amazon.

Oh, and if you're wondering what to get the blogger that seems to have everything? He doesn't have squat and this is what he would like: [click here].

Oh the weather outside is frightful, and the heater is so delightful,
And since work is fivem inutes from home,
Let it snow,
Let it snow,
Let it snow.

Out