Started out the morning in a fun way, too. We were all going to meet at Tim's and carpool to the studio in one vehicle, and someone had asked Tim (tongue-in-cheek) if he was providing breakfast for everyone. I was e-mailing with Amy and told her if she'd show up at MY house an hour earlier, I'd be making biscuits & gravy and bacon and she was welcome to join us. She took me up on it, so I did, and it was fun to have her come. The kids were tickled to have Miss Amy show up at our door on Saturday morning and we all had a yummy breakfast.
After we arrived at Tim's, we waited and waited and waited and waited for Mark, who had locked his keys in his car. As an introduction to Mark (who plays this amazingly cool Gibson Les Paul guitar, and quite well), we joke around with him quite a bit because he's sometimes a little spacey. Do you remember the movie Men In Black, where they had this little flashy-thingy that you click in people's face to make them forget the past however-many minutes or hours or years of their life? It often seems like one of those has been flashed in Mark's face because he'll pop up and completely forget stuff we just did. So we all have this habit of saying "Click" whenever he spaces out.
Anyway, Mark FINALLY arrived, having called the Norwalk cops to come unlock his door. The cop even gave up trying, so Mark worked on it a little more and finally got it open. He had also left some of his stuff up at church, so he had had to get someone to go unlock the church so he could get his gear. CLICK
So after he arrived, we decided to all ride in his car because it's actually big enough for all of us to ride in AND it's cleaned out. I felt very cool riding to the studio in Mark's car because it's tricked out with those spinner hubcaps. Man, was I stylin' or WHAT?
I found out that Tim and Sticks have both been reading my blog!!! That made me feel really, really good. It's actually the best way to get to know me, because I don't talk a lot... and knowing that they both stayed up late to read it, well, it made me feel good because they 1)wanted to get to know me better and 2)thought it was good enough to keep reading.
I usually feel very inept in social conversations, which clams me up, but I think a lot of things so I write them down instead of saying them. I'm not shy. I think I've just figured out that I want people to think I'm smart, and the best way to do that is to be quiet and only say something occasionally. I try not to say anything unless it merits speech and hopefully isn't going to bore someone to death. Most of what goes through my head is either so disjointed and rapid-fire that people couldn't follow it if they tried, or it's boring because it's totally detail-focused and nitpicky. I think about things like chemical compositions, genus & species of plants I see, the way that a certain shade of blue smells & sounds, the intervals in a melody I heard last week, and the precise pitch of the sound of breathing through my nose in a particular way. And this is often within a one-minute span of time. Is it any wonder that I don't talk much? People might find out that I really AM a very strange person. At least when I write, I can organize my thoughts more carefully. I can type while I'm thinking something, then stop for a moment to chase a mental rabbit, then start typing again when my mind comes back around.
Today was fun; I love being with my peeps from SoulFire because I feel very "at home" and comfortable. It's really cool to me how God just plucked me out of where I was and dropped me right into FCC and I've been completely accepted into things. I don't feel like an interloper or an outsider. It's like I've belonged there all along, like family, like I've always known these guys.
I'm going to have to get to bed soon, because tomorrow morning's going to come early. And you KNOW that Sunday is my favorite day of the week, so anything I can do to make it come quicker is a good thing, yanno?
I leave you tonight with the lyrics of a song from U2's latest CD, How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb, called "Yahweh":
Take these shoes
Click clacking down some dead end street
Take these shoes
And make them fit
Take this shirt
Polyester white trash made in nowhere
Take this shirt
And make it clean, clean
Take this soul
Stranded in some skin and bones
Take this soul
And make it sing
Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, Yahweh
Still I'm waiting for the dawn
Take these hands
Teach them what to carry
Take these hands
Don't make a fist
Take this mouth
So quick to criticise
Take this mouth
Give it a kiss
Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, Yahweh
Still I'm waiting for the dawn
Still waiting for the dawn, the sun is coming up
The sun is coming up on the ocean
This love is like a drop in the ocean
This love is like a drop in the ocean
Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, tell me now
Why the dark before the dawn?
Take this city
A city should be shining on a hill
Take this city
If it be your will
What no man can own, no man can take
Take this heart
Take this heart
Take this heart
And make it break
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