i think i have to fold

I think my Rice Crispies were a pretty good hand, but if we are playing 7-card nose weirdness, I just can't beat Super Socco or Chicken Bone.

Pretty much everytime I eat corn (uh-oh, I am a little nervous of the Captain's corn stories) one piece will come shooting out of my nose about two hours later. This does not beat either of the other stories.

However, as a point or order, everytime this happens I am fully aware the entire time that there is a kernel stuck in the top of the back of my throat. A kernel of corn is significantly smaller than a two-inch chicken bone. Which brings us full circle: Sylow, you are one weird chicken bone launchin' freak!

every one has a gross food story

here is mine (in response to this):

When I was around eight, my grandmother was watching us and she bought some cereal for us at the drug store. I remember being weirded out by it, cause my mom never bought cereal at the drugstore. I ate a whole bowl of Rice Crispies. Halfway through the second bowl I noticed that half of the Rice Crispies were acting like normal Rice Crispies and the other half were swimming and crawling up the side of the bowl.

Wretching and crying I called my mom who is a dietician. She informed me that the unexpected half of crispies were WAY more nutritious than the regular half. Small comfort it was at the time.

little help please

I have a new goal: to like bananas.

Currently I abhor them. The smell, the taste, the texture...they all make me wanna yak. The color doesn't bother me all that much.

Not sure how to go about it though. I am reading a book which discusses how to go about eliminating food phobias and it says small doses are required, but I have never been able to stomach even the smallest bite of banana. Driving a car while someone in the back is eating something with banana in it makes me want to drive into oncoming traffic.

So what should I do?

addendum: i've had one comment so far and it's not of a constructive nature. let's try to keep it helpful, people.

with a cameo appearance by king seesar

One of my coworkers brought in her son today and he brought a stack of videos to keep himself occupied and out of the way.

Currently playing is Gojira tai Mekagojira (1974) known in the United States as Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla. Godzilla just tried the fire shooty thing and missed Mechagodzilla, who had jumped/flew straight up into the air at the last second. Godzilla responded with the official "aw shucks" finger snap gesture.

I am a Godzilla fan. On every day that was cold enough to see your own breath from 1974-1981 I would pretend to be Godzilla.

This is not a good film. Not by cinema standards and not by the standards that all adult Godzilla fans must invent in order to continue to watch Godzilla movies.

So here is my Official Ranking of Work Projects Based on Fun (one being highest):

1) Blogging at work
2) Watching Gojira tai Mekagojira (1974) at work
3) Working at work

everyone is entitled to his or her own bludgeoning

Yesterday I was told that something wasn't right. It was something which I think is extremely right. One of the most righteous things I have come across in a long time, in fact.

I have been working on some self-improvement as of late...easing up on the whole try to convert the world to my point of view thing.

There's someone who pops into my consciousness when I start shifting into preach mode who tells me to look both ways before crossing that street. She knows who she is.

In this particular case, I had no problems keeping my mouth shut. Not because my guardian angel was perched on my shoulder, but because I knew that had my angel been there, she'd have stringy chunks of jugular hanging from her teeth.

fulfill a dying man's wish

I would like to spend my remaining days in Brooklyn, but I am not sure how to make that happen. Perhaps the blogging community can help me to get the ball rolling with some ideas or even some generous donations.

You can comment you ideas or email me your contact info to coordinate the donations.

report #7

It's all over. And it was fun. When I said my goodbyes, I invited them all back and I meant it. We had some religious discussions, but they were all about my birth-religion and not my conversion to Heathenism. I don't even dread having that conversation...at least with some of them.

The only downside is that the whole thing is very disappointing as a blog.

Sorry bout that.

report #6

Went to zoo with whole crowd. Had fun. Then to Fuddruckers with whole crowd. Still fun. Sat on end so wouldn't be surrounded but I do that with any amount of people. Back at home had first religion discussion, but I took the high ground with the whole 'so much is lost in translation -- Biblical Hebrew a necessity for proper understanding' argument.

Also there was a little non-directed talk about life without faith being no real life at all.

Tonight, dinner for seventeen.

Monday, March 21st, 2:00pm: Bring it on!

report #5

Maybe I have been making too big a deal. Thirteen house guests now. I am crowded and I need to escape for periods, but not overwhelmed. Miss Kate made a dozen different espresso drinks one right after the other.

Everyone is downstairs now watching The Incredibles but I am all alone in a room with my computer. I have no problem watching a movie in a theater packed with strangers but not comfortable in my own house with a dozen family members.

Maybe I need to work on this.

Saturday, March 19th, 11:41pm: not earning the Mr. Congeniality Award that I won in summer camp, 1978

report #4

Still only four guests. Nine more arriving sometime today. I was just gonna grab myself a little leftover risotto for a snack but Miss Kate says if I do I need to offer some to everyone. She is right, of course. But I just want to eat a little risotto without any social interaction whatsoever.

Saturday, March 19th, 12:11pm: feeling a trifle selfish and hungry

report #3

Tonight wasn't bad. Two adult guests, two kids. I didn't make a lot of conversation but I didn't go hide. One of the two adults has never met the clan of Fundamentalists that arrive in an RV tomorrow and I think he is a bit nervous about it. A partner in dread might be just what I need.

I find myself reviewing my memories of biblical study. Do you plow with oxen? And then have to say to myself, "No. You don't need to armor yourself."

Friday, March 18th, 11:17pm: calm before the storm?

report #2

I am very worried about meals. I hate the thought of that many people eating in my house. Miss Kate just asked if I wanted make risotto for tomorrow night and the split second thought of cooking risotto for twelve or however many there are going to be while the kitchen is crammed with other people cooking side dishes and dessert and snacks and meals for people who won't like my risotto made me very nervous. I will be making risotto tonite for four while somebody else deals with whatever the other two people are eating. I may not enter the kitchen after that for a week.

Friday, March 18th, 5:30pm: already thinking about where to hide

report #1

Today the first of sixteen house guests arrive. I am uncomfortable in groups greater than four. I will be using this blogspace to give up to date accounts of my current mental state.

Friday, March 18th, 10:36am: agitation accompanied by periods of forced denial

i will destroy your holiday

My nerves are shot. There's a 75 year old woman sitting about seven feet from me this second who is asking for a good throttling. Luckily for her there is a four foot high desk between us and I am feeling lethargic.

Now she is gone. She has been replace by a 70 year old man who says my name with that lonnng A vowel that means you are a New Yorker. The old bat lady didn't know my name but if she did she wouldn't have used that vowel because the only sound she can make is a hideous, grating screech.

I need exercise and I am not getting enough sleep and I have been way too domestic lately and there is about to be a crazy amount of people staying at my house and my buddy Sylow just chatted at me this second saying that I probably have incurred the wrath of some Irish Deity by lumping Irish and Canadian whiskey in the same category on St. Patrick's Day.

Hey, maybe that hagling lady is the Drunken Irish God. I am warning all you Irish people out there right now. When she comes back, if she says even one word to me I will kill your god and ruin St. Patty's Day forever. I am in no mood and my nerves are shot.

late at night, the ghosts don't come

I miss Jerusalem sometimes. I miss the view east over the Judean Desert. I have imagined that if I were faced with some illness sure to result in a painful and imminent death, I would settle my affairs and fly to Jerusalem and walk east.

This is the constant struggle within me. I believe there is something in that desert, but I know there is not. Or is it the other way around? I am not sure. Part of me wants to believe in ghosts and part of me does not. And part of me thinks the reason I don't believe in them is because I have never seen one and that the reason I have never seen one is because I don't believe in them.

It is childish of me to be writing of ghosts. I don't believe in anything invisible and perhaps the invisibility is my lack of belief.

So what's it take, huh? I've stepped backwards off of a mountain entwining my life with my faith in the rope in my hands. But I saw a reason to do it. Every place I look now, I see no reason.

Is it simply a salve? A win-win gamble? Live with faith in something rather than nothing and reap the benefits both now and the if and when? I just can't.

I was asked recently how I could live without it. A sincere, curious and pained question it was. I answered flippantly but wanting to describe the increasingly frequent occasions necessitating willing myself to remain conscious when in the presence of large groups of people.

My belief wavers and wanes like the rest.

i've never seen an elvis movie

and I'm thinking about watchin' one. But before I do I want the input of the blogging community. Are they all just crap? Are they all just crap except Jailhouse Rock? If this works out, I will ask you about all my important decisions. But if y'all tell me that Kissin' Cousins or Harum Scarum or something is good and it isn't...well, I'll be very disappointed.

back in the old days when i was this fucked up a little part of the back of my brain worried about being arrested, but this is 100% legal

I am at work. At lunch I had a large Vietnamese iced coffee which is very strong and sweet. I am having troubles thinking clearly. I can't complete a thought and I am twitching involuntarily. I probably should be posting this just as I type it instead fixing the mistakes as they arrive.

I am tryong to think of a stentence to type to show that io can't .

state of apathy

I've been to 43 of our united states. There are several that I have been to that I don't feel I ever need to return, but I'd really like to visit the remaining seven. Except Minnesota. I have nothing against it. In fact some close friends took a Minnesotan camping excursion and returned with great reviews. Still I remain Minnesotally indifferent.

For perspective, I also haven't been to Idaho. I don't know if it is predetermined genetics or socially learned, but internally I feel that I would have a much better time in Idaho than in Minnesota.

I once knew some Minnesotites. I don't feel my life would be any different had I never met them. If they didn't walk into my life that day in a bar in Hammond, Louisiana I would still be sitting right here this morning typing this. I am Minnesota-proof.

How impervious am I to Minnesotishness? Could I kill Minnesotians? No. My internal moral code overrides my Minnesotal apathy.

"Sure," you may say, "but did you know that sportscaster John Madden and actress Winona Ryder are examples of our most Minnesotist celebrities?" I did not. But I believe it because both stir nary an emotion within my soul. Could I kill them. No. I could not kill either John Madden or Winona Ryder.

Someone may throw out the wildcard. Bob Dylan. "You can't get more Minnesoterer than Bobby Dylan," you would posit. My response is this: Robert Zimmerman was born in Minnesota. Bob Dylan was born on his journey across our great nation.

As I attempt to bring this to a close my internal moral code tells me I should apologize to any Minnesoters that may read this...but my other condition tells me this is entirely unnecessary. Please wait while the struggle ensues. It is finished. I am neither proud nor ashamed to say that Minnesotees now find themselves officially snubbed. It means nothing to me.

reaction to reading r c sproul's not a chance: the myth of chance in modern science and cosmology

Genesis 1:2 tell us that our world was created tovu vavohu, often translated as 'formless and void.' Tovu vavohu is chaos. This description is followed by the accounts of the ordering our world. Religion constantly celebrates this order. It is beautiful and awesome and it is incomplete. Genesis tells us that the world was created and it was created in chaos. And there is a reason it was created so, and not created ordered. For chaos is the mechanism of creation. It is chaos that keeps the board dynamic in the game of evolution. It is a one-dimensional cross-section of chaos that is glimpsed in the workings of quantum mechanics. It is in the troubled union of chaos and order that we can justify our existence.

Yes, we live in an ordered world. But the order rests and relies on an ever-changing, infinite backdrop which is completely tovu vavohu