Well, I don't want to worry Gabe the babe, so here I am, much to your chagrin, I'm sure. You know, I'd really like to know what a chagrin is. So I'm here in Missoula, tasting my last days without a roommate, but Sunday night was my last night completely alone. It's amazing that I've spent nearly three months alone here in Missoula, two months of that in my apartment, and I have gotten quite used to it. Hopefully Robbie and I won't fight about the dishes. That's a roommate joke, for those of you not from H1 or H3. Can I just say, I hate this growing up whatever we're doing crap. I'm a man who likes things to be predictable, regular, and all kinds of things I bet the rest of you were glad to leave behind. Oh well.
So today I hiked the "M" above the University of Montana campus with my best friend, Brady Lyles, who has been to Iraq twice courtesy of the Marines. The story has more of a serious side to it than my normal strange stories. It showed the difference in "mettle" between myself and my friend. We decided to venture past the white concrete capital letter three-quarters of the way up the mountain, but after not much more hiking, I found myself sitting in the grass by the trail, watching my best friend hike further up the mountain. When I see no purpose in going any farther, I surely don't. Brady, on the other hand, is going to meet a challenge, and keep going despite difficulties. I'm a quitter, Brady is not. It'll be great it I'm ever addicted to cigarettes, but otherwise it is not a character quality that I proudly bear.
So since I'm being more serious than usual, I think I'll venture an answer to Gabe's question about the look of a Christian. I'll answer it in a short story format, something that I prefer often to the straightforward knack many of our friends hold to. One may ask what does a normal fruit tree look like, and some things can be said that they hold in common, but quickly enough the author of such a description must become vague due to the wide variety of fruit and trees that produce them. Many people would like to hear about the average number of limbs and leaves, the size and exquisite nature of the fruit, and the size of their trunk and length of their roots. Then they could look at their own tree and cut off branches that were above normal, get rid of fruit that seemed abnormal or somewhat bland. When the question is asked as Gabe has asked it, people want to hear specifics, because wouldn't it be nice if that was all we had to do to be a Christian, to read our Bibles so many minutes a day after praying for so many hours after helping old ladies do their yardwork after going to church three times a week or whatever. There isn't a normal tree on the earth, but the only good fruit tree is a the tree that produces good fruit. That tree can look like crap (some of us have two different-sized roots and some skinny limbs), but the fruit is what matters. One piece, a million, big, little, whatever. I think the Bible gives us a wide range of trees that look quite different, yet were all there following Jesus, for good. We have Peters and Thomases and Johns and Marys and Marthas, all people that were there following Jesus, and all way different. So much for story format. What scares me is the tree farm mentality of the church, looking for trees to grow to the same height and to look about the same, to stand in a row and produce the same amount of pears every year. We got freakin' banana trees with some blueberry bushes, and things all over the place in-between, and we should let the fruit fall and call it good rather than try to produce more by our own will. Okay, enough crazy-time soapboxing with Steve. I'll get rid of serious. I don't do it as well as funny-in-a-socially-awkward-way.
I'm glad we have Wakefield around now. It's about time we had somebody to break the silence with the absolute worst thing to say in any given situation. Wakefield, here's to many years of happy blogging at your behest.
So back to those stories that define my life. This one ends in a question for all you young ladies out there, though I already have the universal answer from Anne Ebling, so like all my other questions, you needn't bother. So I was down at the University, standing in the Financial Aid line on the recommendation of all those great professors that I met the Sunday before, and in front of me was a wonderfully attractive young lady with a little sun tattoo on her ankle. I apologize to all those who find me a terrible human being for being attracted to a cute girl. So she scootched (I've never written that word before) down the counter to fill out some paperwork, and there I was beside her having a lively conversation with the lady behind the counter. Before I knew it, the lady behind the counter had run off to find something for me to fill out, and I turned to this girl. She looked up at me, and she had silvery-gray eyes. My heart melted in my chest. Apparently my cognative abilities to handle the situation melted with my heart because I just kept looking right at this girl, and we were only a foot apart. Something inside my conscious being was shouting, "Say something that she wants to hear!" and so rightly I sat with wide eyes and a dumb mouth watching her pen slide across a standarized form while she glanced up intermittenly to see if I was still there, staring at her. I would apologize for my brain functions, but I think I must apologize for their lacking presence. Soon enough, she handed the paper in and scuttled off as quickly as she could. The only line that was sitting in my head was something like "So, financial aid... me too." I know it's obvious why I'm single. So my question is... what on earth do girls want to hear?
Totally different question now thanks to a mid-blog phone call (married spouses, please remind yourselves of your unique position and how this doesn't exactly provide for the response I'm seeking): Say your boyfriend/girlfriend is planning to have friends over to spend the night as they are passing through, old friends that have known them for many more years than yourself and claim to have a very close friendship with your significant other. This is not the first time they have stayed the night with your significant other, and you know nothing would happen with them that is problematic because there are other people around. Would you feel uncomfortable with the situation anyway? Would you ask your boy/girlfriend to not house his or her friend if it did make you feel uncomfortable? That's all I got right now. Guys, here's to long talks with good friends. It's actually 2:36 in the morning. Adios.
So today I hiked the "M" above the University of Montana campus with my best friend, Brady Lyles, who has been to Iraq twice courtesy of the Marines. The story has more of a serious side to it than my normal strange stories. It showed the difference in "mettle" between myself and my friend. We decided to venture past the white concrete capital letter three-quarters of the way up the mountain, but after not much more hiking, I found myself sitting in the grass by the trail, watching my best friend hike further up the mountain. When I see no purpose in going any farther, I surely don't. Brady, on the other hand, is going to meet a challenge, and keep going despite difficulties. I'm a quitter, Brady is not. It'll be great it I'm ever addicted to cigarettes, but otherwise it is not a character quality that I proudly bear.
So since I'm being more serious than usual, I think I'll venture an answer to Gabe's question about the look of a Christian. I'll answer it in a short story format, something that I prefer often to the straightforward knack many of our friends hold to. One may ask what does a normal fruit tree look like, and some things can be said that they hold in common, but quickly enough the author of such a description must become vague due to the wide variety of fruit and trees that produce them. Many people would like to hear about the average number of limbs and leaves, the size and exquisite nature of the fruit, and the size of their trunk and length of their roots. Then they could look at their own tree and cut off branches that were above normal, get rid of fruit that seemed abnormal or somewhat bland. When the question is asked as Gabe has asked it, people want to hear specifics, because wouldn't it be nice if that was all we had to do to be a Christian, to read our Bibles so many minutes a day after praying for so many hours after helping old ladies do their yardwork after going to church three times a week or whatever. There isn't a normal tree on the earth, but the only good fruit tree is a the tree that produces good fruit. That tree can look like crap (some of us have two different-sized roots and some skinny limbs), but the fruit is what matters. One piece, a million, big, little, whatever. I think the Bible gives us a wide range of trees that look quite different, yet were all there following Jesus, for good. We have Peters and Thomases and Johns and Marys and Marthas, all people that were there following Jesus, and all way different. So much for story format. What scares me is the tree farm mentality of the church, looking for trees to grow to the same height and to look about the same, to stand in a row and produce the same amount of pears every year. We got freakin' banana trees with some blueberry bushes, and things all over the place in-between, and we should let the fruit fall and call it good rather than try to produce more by our own will. Okay, enough crazy-time soapboxing with Steve. I'll get rid of serious. I don't do it as well as funny-in-a-socially-awkward-way.
I'm glad we have Wakefield around now. It's about time we had somebody to break the silence with the absolute worst thing to say in any given situation. Wakefield, here's to many years of happy blogging at your behest.
So back to those stories that define my life. This one ends in a question for all you young ladies out there, though I already have the universal answer from Anne Ebling, so like all my other questions, you needn't bother. So I was down at the University, standing in the Financial Aid line on the recommendation of all those great professors that I met the Sunday before, and in front of me was a wonderfully attractive young lady with a little sun tattoo on her ankle. I apologize to all those who find me a terrible human being for being attracted to a cute girl. So she scootched (I've never written that word before) down the counter to fill out some paperwork, and there I was beside her having a lively conversation with the lady behind the counter. Before I knew it, the lady behind the counter had run off to find something for me to fill out, and I turned to this girl. She looked up at me, and she had silvery-gray eyes. My heart melted in my chest. Apparently my cognative abilities to handle the situation melted with my heart because I just kept looking right at this girl, and we were only a foot apart. Something inside my conscious being was shouting, "Say something that she wants to hear!" and so rightly I sat with wide eyes and a dumb mouth watching her pen slide across a standarized form while she glanced up intermittenly to see if I was still there, staring at her. I would apologize for my brain functions, but I think I must apologize for their lacking presence. Soon enough, she handed the paper in and scuttled off as quickly as she could. The only line that was sitting in my head was something like "So, financial aid... me too." I know it's obvious why I'm single. So my question is... what on earth do girls want to hear?
Totally different question now thanks to a mid-blog phone call (married spouses, please remind yourselves of your unique position and how this doesn't exactly provide for the response I'm seeking): Say your boyfriend/girlfriend is planning to have friends over to spend the night as they are passing through, old friends that have known them for many more years than yourself and claim to have a very close friendship with your significant other. This is not the first time they have stayed the night with your significant other, and you know nothing would happen with them that is problematic because there are other people around. Would you feel uncomfortable with the situation anyway? Would you ask your boy/girlfriend to not house his or her friend if it did make you feel uncomfortable? That's all I got right now. Guys, here's to long talks with good friends. It's actually 2:36 in the morning. Adios.
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