Guess what I'm watching right now?
Yup, you guessed it: Jumanji.
Are YOU game?!
The "word on the street" (or, rather, in the backroom) is that the cafe where I've sold my soul for the past three years will be closing in less than two months. No official word has come from the owner, but the rumor-giver is pretty knowledgeable and trustworthy, and there are too many consistent "little" details to make me think it's any sort of fabrication. In lieu of this I've been picking up hours left and right to try and make up for the hours I'm going to lose. In one day alone, much thanks to God, I was able to pick up at the least three extra shifts. Best case scenario is the cafe not closing, leaving me working like a madman over the next several months. I wouldn't mind the extra boost in income, and work really is a joyful experience for me, even if I feel exhausted at the end of the day.
Remember that movie Flying Wild?
The one about the girl who teaches geese how to fly?
I've seen the preview like six times in a row just now.
I wouldn't mind seeing that movie again.
In a previous post I wrote about how I'm sort of stretching myself thin when it comes to "intellectual" pursuits. I'm not Benny Franklin, and such stretching only adds extra stress in my life. I've decided to cut some things out. At the top of the list? Rehashing Greek. I've enjoyed it, but the stress of trying to comprehend the Pauline epistles in one go is just too much. With that added weight off my shoulders, I already feel a bit more... relaxed. I'd still like to return to it at a later date (and if I end up getting my M.Div, that'll be a cherished, albeit excruciating, part of it), but for the moment I'm going to content myself with my ongoing studies in 1 Peter, my studies through the life of Christ, and essays on "colonial America", which I intend to dovetail into a series of "narrative histories" of the major battles of the American Revolution.
I'm such a dork. Like... seriously.
And I'm okay with it.
"Hey, Guys, I like to study even when I'm not in school!"
(I was quoting Ams' mockery of me)
Ams and Mandy H. came by the Hobbit Hole today. Since I'm working so much and quite literally don't have time to do my laundry, Ams offered to do my laundry at her place; I took her up on the offer, and the two of them came over from Bakewell, and we drank Rhinegeist Truth and sprawled out on the sofa and laughed hysterically like we always do. Mandy is heading out to Portland next month--like only a couple weeks from now--and we're going to have a "going-away" party before they go. I don't know how much of a party it will be. Maybe "party" isn't the best word. Get-together? Yeah, that's the word I'm looking for. With how much I'm working, just a "get-together" is a notable experience. Even this thirty minute get-together was somehow notable enough to make it to my blog.
Have you ever seen the movie Alaska?
The one about the kids and the ice and the polar bear?
No, me neither. And I don't plan on it.
Never give up! the boy wails. Never!
I'm betting the trailer's synopsis was as detailed as the movie itself.
The Wisconsinite is in Cincinnati this week, doing missions work down on State Avenue. I have a play-by-play of their activities through a schedule she sent me. Am I following along hour-to-hour? Yup, sure am. I may get to see her for a bit Monday after work (yep, I picked up a shift on my one day off each week; say hello to hell), and Thursday evening we're doing dinner with my parents, and Friday we're doing lunch with Ams, and Friday evening we're having a "romantic dinner" of sorts. I'm super looking forward to it, all of it, but mostly just looking forward to being with her in the same state and time zone and house and room. It'll be pretty great. LDRs sure do have their sucky moments--but they make "reunions" that much sweeter. Not that my girlfriend needs any help being sweeter, but, you know what I'm saying.
This post went REAL sappy REAL quick.
To assuage my readers, here's a picture of two things that terrify me:
nuclear war, and a world filled with velociraptors.
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