three things that confuse me.

I'm often confused by things that are apparently normal in life. Here are three random things that confuse me:

1. Beaches. When I was five I told my grandma, "I love the beach. All except the sand." To this day I prefer to wear tennis shoes to the beach so that I don't lose any appendages on the way down the fire-hot sand. Plus, your reward for making it to the water is a freezing cold swim and an inevitable sunburn (at least for a white girl like me). Most people are saying, "I can't wait for summer so we can go to the beach and have fun!" And I'm over here thinking, "Well, I guess it's time again to practice for the beach by walking barefoot over hot coals." I just don't understand it. But I will say this for beaches: they are beautiful.

2. Malls on a Saturday. What is the appeal of crushing crowds and pushy salesmen? One day recently I went to go see a movie - on a Saturday - and it felt like I was a football player, bravely running head first into these people, just trying to make it for a touchdown. Except I was lacking a helmet, which I think I'll bring next time. (Link to another visual depiction of how I feel at the mall)


Copyright: Vincent Lai

3. Fandoms. These are pretty new, I think. A kingdom... but for fans? They are very much like a different world to me- I'm pretty sure they even have their own languages. Definitely confusing. I don't know much about fandoms except Dr. Who-ever-he-is has a lot of people in his.

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Pilate and I.

Every Easter, the same story is told. Yet every year, despite myself, I see something new. Sometimes I'm pretty sure it slaps me across the face: Source: RossRightAngle So when Pilate saw that he was gaining nothing, but rather that a riot was beginning, he took water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” And all the people answered, “His blood be on us and on our children!” Then he released for them Barabbas, and having scourged Jesus, delivered him to be crucified. There's a reason those words stuck out to me, so let me rewind. I work with what I generally refer to as a "group of wily fifth graders" in an after school childcare center. Unless you work closely with ten year olds, there's no way to understand: 1) How funny they are, 2) How irrational they can be, 3) How much they lack the big picture of... mostly anything. A good portion of my education has been centered in child develo...

true confessions.

I have a confession to make: I've been a closet-blogger for years. Yep. Started when I was in high school. I wrote about things like being the sister of an autistic brother, my faith, and trying to be a comic of the written word. Always in a private blog that no one could see. If we're going to be honest, I don't write to impress or impact other people. Really. I just write because if I don't, as Jon Acuff so eloquently put, my head and heart will explode (trust me: I've come close a few times). I have documents and documents of unorganized thoughts that came to be because I couldn't think any more; I had to write. But I've decided to bring myself into the public blogging realm, just because I need to stretch myself. If I'm spending all this time writing things (and always trying to make it perfect, thank you analytical brain), I may as well post it for the world to see. I know that I've been inspired by blogs of people who didn't think an...

look for the helpers.

At the end of the Fred Rogers documentary, “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” the interviewer told every one of the interviewees (friends, family, and coworkers of Fred Rogers) “Think of someone in your life that has helped you.” While they were recorded deep in thought, something truly fascinating occurred: Their faces changed when they thought of their helper. They smiled a little or nodded. Their eyes shone with clarity as if they immediately understood the person's effect on their life course. The documentary- in true Fred Rogers style- not only gave the interviewees time to think about their helpers but also held space for the viewers. So when I wasn’t in awe of the changing facial expressions, I was thinking about the helpers in my life. And there are so many. I would do well to think of them more often. To thank them more often. As for Mister Rogers, he didn’t have a huge impact on my life. I didn’t watch his show every day, I didn’t like puppets all that mu...

being obscure clearly.

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