Monday, June 11, 2007

wonderful weekend; monday-like monday

Andy is gone again and I really didn't want him to leave. It seems like I need a day to feel close to him after a long absence and then one more day to be close. Then he leaves. But he can't help it, this month is the most important birding month for his position and if he doesn't get enough data he might have to work an extra field season. Which wouldn't be ideal, but just okay.
Audrey came to visit and it was a lot of fun. Big fun as my friend Jenny says.
I listened to "The Time Traveler's Wife" by Audrey Niffenegger on CD while cleaning the house and enjoyed it. Although it didn't make it into my top ten it's one of the few books I've read that I wish I had written; I can see myself writing a story like this. Fervent, a little sad, and beautiful.
It's hard to recommend books. I know that when I do I'll be judged a little. Even by Andy. But I know that people who aren't dedicated readers or English majors or professors just aren't going to get why I love some stories. And why sometimes my favorite stories have sinful things in them. Well, sin permeates the world, doesn't it? But I know that isn't what people mean. They mean why do I love books where the sin isn't portrayed as sin. All I can say is sometimes I don't recognize my sin unless God (or a friend) points it out to me. And most exceptional novels are not written by christians. I haven't encountered a new Flannery O'Connor or C. S. Lewis. I'm rambling. But I'm bored at work and tired b/c it is hard to sleep when he is gone.
Oh yeah... I forgot to mention that when I mailed about 30 applications to surrounding schools (after a long time spent revising cover letters and resumes) the post office calculated the postage wrong and so I'm getting them returned to me asking for more postage or rejected by principles who aren't willing (why should they be?) to pay 23 cents to get my package. So wasted time. Wasted money. I was mad, of course, but it is okay now. My friend Doug shared with me a verse about God walking on the sea but His footsteps are invisible, meaning, Doug thinks, that we can't see His ways but He is moving. Moving, I hope, to find me a teaching position where I will bloom into the inspiring and engaging teacher I want to be.
I'm hoping. Anxiously even though I shouldn't. Waiting to see what He will do. Also hoping that I won't be bitter if it doesn't happen.

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