and yet...

As previously mentioned, I bought my second Chuck Klosterman book the other day. It is either titled IV or Chuck Klosterman IV, I can't tell which.

As also previously mentioned, I interrupted my reading of U2 by U2 for Chuck, an unprecedented move since my obsession accelerated last year.

I did lament this interruption. But it had to be done. So you can imagine my joy upon reaching the second chapter of IV...?, page 21, and reading the following:

Chapter Title: "(This Happened In) October"

My heart immediately leapt at the possible connection of the chapter with U2's album October. I read on...

"U2 is the most self-aware rock band in history. This generally works to their advantage. ..."

Oh happy day! A whole essay, by Chuck, on U2! Two glories combined into one blissful read.

I had a serious debate on whether or not to skip this chapter and read it last (as it undoubtedly would be the best the book had to offer, regardless of Chuck's stance on U2). However, in the interest of preserving the integrity of the book and its original sequence, I read it in its proper order, following chapter 1. It was glorious.

___

On another note, Chuck told a story about riding in Bono's Quattroporte. About interviewing every single band member, 3 of the 4 in person.

...I may forsake all other life paths and become a reporter.

i really might have a problem

I failed today...I fed my book addiction. I literally have a difficult time walking out of a bookstore without a book in hand (that I have paid for).

This book buying addiction wouldn't be such a problem if it weren't for three things: 1) I don't have the salary for this. 2) I don't have the time for this. 3) I already have several books I own but have not read.

What's even worse about today's purchase is that I am already in the middle of six books that I read consistently. (4 for work, 2 for pleasure.) And if you count books that I've started within the past year, but do not read consistently, the count is up to 15. ... FIFTEEN! Clearly I do not need to be buying books.

But here's the thing. I finished Chuck Klosterman's book Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs a few weeks ago...and I miss him. I realize that this is probably unhealthy, and that I don't actually know him, and that reading his book is NOT the same as talking to a real person. But I can't help it. What makes this longing for a good Klosterman read even more significant is the detail of which pleasure book I'm interrupting for him: U2 by U2.

I have a serious U2 obsession. I've had dreams about them. I've already finished one biography and am on the aforementioned second. I quote them incessantly. I've watched two dvds of them. I read articles about them. I'm currently saving for a trip to see them this summer. I own every single one of their albums. (Some illegally, but the fact that I'm consistently buying each one so that I have actually paid and contributed to their monetary welfare shows the depth of the obsession, I think.) I had a 2 hour conversation about them on the way to Chattanooga once. And if you summed up the hours of conversation I've had not all at once...on second thought, I don't think I want to know. Suffice it to say that the fact that I'm putting their almost autobiography on hold for Chuck...well, it's a big deal.

But I couldn't stop myself! The day I finished Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs, I had to stop myself from re-reading it almost immediately. I let a friend borrow it, and I don't think I would have been able to hold out much longer if I hadn't. And it's not like his books are incredibly profound. They're just very, very funny. I feel like I'm participating in a conversation (which could have as much to do with how I read as with how he writes). We're just a great duo, author-Chuck and reader-me. And like a child with his worn out blankie (or a friend with her imbecile ex), I just didn't want to let go.

So I haven't. And the book buying addiction lives another day.

(On a happier note, I am one book closer to having a library like Belle, and that's ALWAYS a good thing.)

a bittersweet exchange

I have now moved for the sixth time in the past 6 years. And while there are so many reasons why I am much happier in my new house verses my apartment from last year, I must expound here on a deep loss resulting from said move: Saki.

Now, Saki is not his real name. I don't actually know what his real name is. But my little Japanese friend brought me so much joy. And we've never even met. But I'm getting ahead of myself here.

Upon moving into my new apartment last year, it was a few short months before the first Saki sighting. I had come home late from an RUF event and had stayed in my car to finish a phone conversation (as my roommate was asleep). It was probably around 11pm. As I was sitting in my car, a little Japanese man ran by. ...At 11pm, this is what I would term "unusual." As I continued the conversation, he ran by at least 3 more times. (At which point I realized he was running for exercise, which made it slightly more legitimate, I suppose.)

A few weeks later, it happened again.

As the months progressed and the weather turned colder, I began to sleep with my window open. (I like to sleep REALLY cold. In college, before we had to pay for our own utilities, my roommate and I would leave the room temperature on 65 sometimes.) By leaving my window open, I would also leave the blinds up, so as not to block the cold air from being drawn into my room. (This exposition on my window and sleeping habits has a point, I promise.)

That point is this: As I sleep very poorly, I often wake up around 1, 2, or 3 am. And upon waking up, I would naturally look out the window. (I mean, honestly...don't you?) And at least once a week, I would see the little Japanese man running around the apartment complex.

As this became more of a pattern, I started wondering about who he was. I started making up stories about him. I speculated about why he was up at such ungodly hours, and running of all things! I eventually named him. He became Saki. A few times I even tried to wave at him while he was running, but sadly he never looked up to the second story of my building and noticed. (Yes. I am that much of a creeper.) And so I made a vow, that one night I would go join him in his laps around the apartment complex and meet him. I would find out who he was, whether or not he had a family, what his job was, why he ran at such late hours, why he ran at all. I envisioned this endearing conversation, not unlike the movies, where we became good friends. He introduced me to his beautiful wife and adorable Japanese children; his wife taught me how to cook authentic Japanese food, I taught his children how to play piano, I became part of the family.

...

That obviously never happened. When I left for my summer in South Carolina, I never saw him again. I don't know if he moved. I don't know if he died. I don't know if he still lived there but gave up running. Maybe he's paralyzed. Maybe he got a treadmill. ...I'll never know. And this breaks my heart a little.

So Saki...should you ever read this...

have your wife send me a good recipe for teriyaki chicken? Hey thanks!

___

I titled this post "a bittersweet exchange," because the loss of Saki is somewhat alleviated by the gain of another character that I simply know will play a similar role in my life: Taz.

Taz is

... now sitting on my bed. It's like he KNEW I was writing about him. Seriously. I started typing that sentence, and he meowed, so I opened my door and in he came. (Ahem. I should probably mention that Taz is my roommate's cat.)

Taz definitely lives up to his name. He's crazy. He keeps rolling off my bed by accident. He attacks the cracks in my couch. He avoided me like the plague the day I moved in, but then that night he fell in love with my room and cried outside my door for a good 5 minutes (I kid you not) when I put him out to go to bed. We've already had to have several conversations about what are and are not toys in my room: Things that are not toys include my bedspread, my computer chord, my phone charger chord, and my window shade. (Things that are toys...are his toys that get left on the floor in my room. And my yarn.)

Needless to say, I foresee great stories resulting from Taz and I's companionship. And while he may never teach me authentic Japanese cooking...we could at least try the piano lessons.

two lies and a truth

The following conversation happened last night...at a red light.

Characters:

Me in my car (Stella, who has two beautiful new tires.)

Two guys (the one having an active role being named Ron) and three girls in the other car.

Scene:

I arrived at the red light first, blaring U2 with my windows DOWN (Will I ever learn?!?). The particular song playing was "Desire." (Of all the songs...) The second car, a red two-door, pulled up shortly after I arrived. Then creeped up until it was right next to me. After a minute, I realized someone was trying to talk to me. So I turned my music down and my head to the left. And it went as follows...

Ron: "Hey, what radio station are you listening to?"

Me: "Oh, I'm not; this is my ipod. Sorry!" Poor guy, thinking U2 was on the radio. How disappointing.

Ron: "Oh, okay."

Me: "But it's U2, you should listen to them; they're great!" What am I, a walking advertisement now?

Ron: "Hey, do you go to our school?"

Me: Not likely, as I am no longer in school. "What school is that?"

Ron: "A&M" [For those not familiar with Huntsville, this is Alabama A&M.]

Me: A&M? Really? "Uh, no. I'm not in school anymore."

Ron: "But you are from here, right?"

Me: From here? Did you miss the South Carolina license plate and the Clemson sticker on my car? "Not originally." Not originally? He probably was not asking about your origins, Casey.

Ron: "But you live here now?"

Me: "Yeah." Should I have just told a stranger that? Probably not...

Ron: "So you wanna give me your number?"

Me: "Hahaha, um, no, I'm good." ?!?!?! DID THAT JUST REALLY HAPPEN?? What in the world. Why would he want my number?? He just met me at a red light, so it's not personality. And all he can see of me is my shoulders and head. The SIDE of my head, mostly. So it's probably not looks. What in the world?!?

Ron: "What are you, like 25?"

Me: Now is definitely an appropriate time to lie. "Yeah. Yeah I am. Well done!"

Ron: "I bet you got a husband, or a boyfriend."

Me: Uhh... "Not a husband!" My left hand is hanging out of the car. Clearly there is no ring.

...*pause*

Me: I guess that answer wasn't sufficient. Again, it's ok to lie here, Casey. "But I do have a boyfriend."

Ron: "I'll bet he's not as sexy as me, though."

Me: Well, as I can only see YOUR head and shoulders, I wouldn't really know. But we're going to continue the boyfriend lie here and just pretend that my boyfriend is incredibly good looking, because there's no way I'm going to tell you that you are sexier than my "boyfriend." "I mean, he's pretty great!"

Ron: "But I bet I'm bigger than him."

Me: "Haha, I don't know about that!" Seriously? WHEN IS THIS LIGHT GOING TO TURN GREEN??

Ron: "I play ball at A&M. You gonna come see me play ball?"

Me: Oooh, what kind of ball? That's kind of cool... No. You are not allowed to express enjoyment over his athletic ability, that sends the WRONG message. Trust me, you don't want to go there. "Haha, no, I'm good."

Ron: "You don't have to tell your boyfriend!"

Me: Yeah, if I had one, I'm sure THAT would go over well. "haha, nah."

Ron: "You sure you don't want to give me your number?"

Me: How many times do I have to reject you? I almost feel bad at this point. Especially since every time I answer you the three girls in the back of your car laugh at you... "Yeah, I'm sure. Sorry."

Ron: "Hey what's your name?"

Me: "Casey." ?!? Casey, of all the times to lie tonight, THIS is when you decide to tell the truth?!? Seriously??

Ron: "Well I'm 'Raah' "

Me: What, like the ancient sun god? Really? "What?"

Ron: " 'Raah.' R-O-N."

Me: Wow, he should probably learn how to pronounce his own name. "Oh, Ron. Well nice to meet you." THANK YOU, Lord, for making the light turn green. That was seriously one of the longest red lights I have ever experienced. Oh my word, I cannot believe that just happened. Wow. Just...wow. I am NEVER leaving my windows down again.

I have now been hit on by a man in his upper 40's, a woman, and a black guy. In the past month. ...The trifecta?

I blame the internship. It forced me to become comfortable conversing with people I have never met before. Apparently there is no middle ground for me. Great.

(Ok, I'm also a little bit flattered. And really glad I'm moving, as the woman who hit on me lives upstairs.)

Will I go?

I was reading in Genesis this morning for my study program, and I read through the story of Isaac and Rebekah. First off, this story is kind of romantic to me, in that there's almost no romance at all. But we'll get to that.

Background: (Ideally you'll just go read Genesis chapter 24...) Abraham sent a servant to the land of his ancestors to find a wife for his son Isaac, through whom God would create His nation of Israel, and ultimately Jesus. The servant found Rebekah through God's providence, and Rebekah's father and brother agreed to send her with the servant to be Isaac's wife. From the biblical account, it sounds like vs. 55-59 occurs the morning following this agreement. It reads:

Her brother and her mother said, "Let the young woman remain with us a while, at least ten days; after that she may go." But he [Abraham's servant] said to them, "Do not delay me, since the Lord has prospered my way. Send me away that I may go to my master." They said, "Let us call the young woman and ask her." And they called Rebekah and said to her, "Will you go with this man?" She said, "I will go." So they sent away Rebekah their sister and her nurse, and Abraham's servant and his men.

..."I will go." Rebekah was willing to leave her life, her family, her land, everything. In a day.

When I first read this, and even while I began to writing this, I was going down the route of thinking, How often do you drag your feet when God uses people to ask you to do things? Are you happy to do good and righteous things that will benefit the kingdom? Why does it always take you a few days to warm up to those ideas, if you ever actually do? The speed of Rebekah's response challenged me.

Upon further reflection, though, I realized it's not quite that simple:

First off, although it doesn't say that Rebekah loves God and that that's why she's making this decision, this is probably the case. For several reasons: First, God probably wouldn't have picked her to be Isaac's wife and used her to create His nation if she wasn't His. Second, she's from Abraham's country, and Abraham sent his servant to that land specifically for the purpose of finding a God-fearing wife for his son. (Scripture seems to imply that the Canaanites were a wicked people at this point.) Third, if she didn't fear God, she probably wouldn't have agreed to go and become Isaac's wife. ...So the point of all this is to say that Rebekah, as a believer, would have had the guidance of God as His daughter.

Second, Scripture is silent on the emotions Rebekah is feeling at the time. It doesn't say she's miserable, but it also doesn't say she's excited. She was probably scared. She probably wasn't looking forward to leaving her family and her country. We don't know. But it's clear that although being excited about what God is doing with one's life is ideal, it's not where our status rests. Scripture seems to deem actions, over (or in spite of) emotions, as most important. So Scripture challenges me to take action despite my emotion, but it also gives me rest that if I am acting in spite of my emotions, this is pleasing to God.

Third, Rebekah did not make this decision on a whim. She didn't even follow the advice of someone simply claiming to know God's plan. Abraham's servant provided plenty of evidence that his actions were sanctioned by God. He had spent the entire previous evening explaining all of God's directions concerning her (vs. 34-49). Rebekah's father and brother attested to this: vs. 50-51 says, "Then Laban and Bethuel answered and said, 'The thing has come from the Lord; we cannot speak to you bad or good. Behold, Rebekah is before you; take her and go, and let her be the wife of your master's son, as the Lord has spoken.' " Abraham's servant clearly proves he and his word are trustworthy. Thus when he asks to leave immediately, Rebekah can rest in knowing that he is a man of God and is acting righteously. God has made his hand in these events very clear.

What does that mean for me? It's encouraging in that it reminds me that God has given us brains with which to analyze evidence that He provides. And it challenges me to use it. To seek direction through His word and His people, and to act upon that direction, regardless of how I feel. But I'm also comforted by His graciousness to Rebekah, to give her those things that enabled her to make that sort of life-changing decision quickly. To stand upon His promises and be sure of herself, because of that foundation. I am reminded that I am loved, and that that love will be evidenced in my life. I will be enabled as well, and I will certainly not be left to follow God alone.

Ke$ha is NOT a good soundtrack to grown-up life.

Europe, Journey, and BTO, however, all are.

If I was complaining about feeling old before, that feeling was increased exponentially today. Stella (my dear car-yes, she has a name. Also a personality. We are great friends.) has been shaking when reaching over 65 mph of late, as well as hydroplaning in water. This led me to believe that perhaps it could be beneficial to a) get the balance and/or alignment checked, and b) investigate as to whether or not I need new tires.

Turns out, all three were/still are necessary. When I finally got around to seeing if the groove on my tire tread was deep enough, I discovered that on three of the four tires...it was almost non-existent. And I'm not even being sarcastic here. When the repair man at Sears looked at one of them, he said, "Oooh, that's slick. I'll bet you've been having fun when it rained." Ha. Ha. ...Ha.

Before I got to Sears, however, I went to two other tire places to get quotes on tires. Which means I learned a whole bunch of information about tires. And talked on the phone a lot with my dad. And got very sweaty. And dirt smudges on my face. (Don't ask, I don't even KNOW how that one happened.)

I have also now asked for and been given my Christmas present: two new tires. ...happy Christmas, to me. (Thank you Dad.) ...As is clear, I didn't have the best attitude about it. Ke$ha on the radio singing about love being her drug was not exactly helpful, either. I don't care if some boy wants to have a slumber party in your basement, to be honest. Unless that slumber party would result in my being given $300. Then I am ALL FOR IT.

However, upon heading to Sears for what turned out to be my final stop in the enTIRE saga (YAK YAK YAK) (Yes I am actually laughing out loud as I type because I think I can be really funny sometimes. Also, I have been making tire jokes to myself all day. And quoting Dane Cook.), BTO's "Takin' Care of Business" came on the radio. It was beautiful. It was inspiring. It helped me take joy in getting new tires. All by myself. (sort of...) And then I listened to Journey's "Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)" and Europe's "Final Countdown" on my ipod. ...I may or may not have sung to my future tires. ("Someday, [I] will find you. Break [through, and I'll buy] you..." etc.)

My parting words of wisdom: First and foremost, keep on eye on those tires. Second, listen to old school classic rock and not Ke$ha. Unless you're under the age of 5.

...On second thought, if you are under the age of 5, you probably shouldn't be listening to Ke$ha either.