A Lyrical Addiction

A happy day...

2011-08-31T06:18:00.001-07:00

'Cause it's Nicole's birthday. Happy birthday, Nicole! <>

Blog=MeFail

2011-07-22T07:06:00.000-07:00

Delightful evening. Amazing summer.

And yes, that'd be a two-year block of time in which I have not posted. (Yes, check the year, folks... It's more'n two weeks!)

I guess I just sorta ran out of blogging steam. Writing for the school blog was pretty amazing, but school's over (way over; campus is closed!) and as to blogspot... well, nobody I know is actually here. So yes, mostly I'm just posting for my own benefit. Like my last couple of Xanga entries. Ah, well.

So. Yes. I love summer in Colorado.

Hiking. Climbing mountains. Climbing the Incline on Sunday mornings. Dancing the Cupid Shuffle in the parking lot before the outdoor movie. Running 5ks with roommates. The view from my office window. Deer and fawns skipping past said window. Salamanders in the Jericho Center. Hitting up the Farmer's Market in Old Colorado City on Saturday mornings. Eating fresh veggies and hummus while sitting outside on our patio. Watching the sun set while sipping wine on the neighbors' roof. (I don't like wine, but this point is marginal.) Discovering one of said neighbors and a buddy of his are actually classmates from the New Life School of Worship, whom I hadn't seen in four years. Natasha's homemade ice cream. Walkin' on sunshine. Midnight runs around the block. Sweet, sweet morning worship at theWall. Parties and celebrations of summer. Smoothies. Crispy, sweet, juicy watermelon. Guests from Norway. Coffee and bananas. G&Ts. Running in the rain. Roommates crashing from the heat in my cool basement bedroom. Garage sales. Pet sitting. Good news of friends getting married. Wanting to travel. Double rainbows. Kidnapped llamas. Four proofreading projects inside six weeks. Camping out with them at Starbucks to get them DONE, preferably early. Random dance parties. Let's hear it for the boy. Fair market stores. Funner purses. Apple cider tea. Discovering intense extroversion. Mowing the yard with a rotary mower... for the first time ever. Grilled burgers, veggies, chicken. Stories coming back. Dracula. Water for Elephants. Classics and romance fluff on my Kindle. Free downloads. Weeks of lack-of-internet freedom. Dollar movies (for $1.75) at the ghetto theater. Thor. Chasing the yippie fluff ball out of our yard with my "Great Dane" voice. Twilight guitar under the tree in the yard. "He's nice. But scary. Like Santa!" California casualties. Boys who do "freestyle running" but still somehow let you set the not-so-fast pace. Iced peach tea. Detox. Apple muffins. Popcorn. Storytime in Nicole's room. Llamigo, Mr. Higgins.

Amazing.

Been a While

2009-07-08T08:00:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a while since I've written. And I've realized I probably ought to write more, create more of an online presence. Hey, I am here all the time. I just don't always leave a mark. I haven't had much excitement (at least nothing to rival the accident) since January (which is probably a good thing) and very few people actually read this. Eh, that's okay, too.

Life's a bit on the weird side right now. I don't know what I'm doing. That is, I know what I'm doing right now at this moment (I'm writing a blog entry!) but as for tomorrow... or the next day... who knows? I'm in Colorado Springs, doing my internship for my professional writing degree at a publishing house called D.C. Cook, and I'm seriously having the time of my life. I'm doing exactly what I've thought I wanted to do for a long time, and it's absolutely as great as I'd hoped. Basically, I'm editing. Fixing other people's commas and weird sentence structure. Figuring out what to do to books to get them published. I love publishing. I love books. I love office work. I love editing and proofreading! I could cry!

Okay, so that's melodramatic. But on a stranger note, I have been crying a lot lately. I don't get it. I'm happy, at least, with most things. I just find myself reading the most random stuff here at the office, and tearing up over the hungry kids in Kenya or over memories of rocking babies to sleep or even this kids' book called The Blue Umbrella (which is coming out in a few months... and it's awesome...). Even one of my irksome little fiction characters that hang around inside my head had me in tears because her life hit a very rough point. *sniff* I feel like such a girl. Yes, I am a girl, but I don't usually cry about much. I do miss my family, and, yep, life's confusing because after this internship, I have NO IDEA what's coming next or what I should even focus on. But I'm not depressed, and I really am enjoying life. But... it makes me wonder if God's playing games with me or something. In that... God kinda way.

Well, we'll see. And not like you needed an emotional update on me or anything. Hope your life's going great!

Encouragement to you today, 'cause I gotta preach to me, too: There are a lot of books in the world of publishing, but the #1 bestseller is the one we should all spend some more time in. It's where there's true life to be found, and the book through which our lives can be changed.

Crash and Burn

2009-01-14T21:10:00.000-08:00

January 14, 2009

Blowing clouds of snow flurried around the van in front of the university Taurus I was driving and the other Taurus behind me as we headed down Highway 30 on our way to Chicago at 9am. The roads were a bit slick, and our professor had almost decided against the field trip we’d planned for this week to go to Chicago and visit Moody Press, Tyndale House, and Christianity Today and find out about jobs in publishing. But after considering weather reports, he decided we’d make a go of it anyway.

“The important thing isn’t fast, but safe,” he stressed before we left this morning. We all agreed and piled into the vehicles. As we headed out of Fort Wayne, it was a little slippery, but it didn’t seem bad enough to turn back.

I did think that the van’s driver was pushing us a bit fast, but in the interest of staying together as a caravan, I kept up with him, and the car behind ours did as well. There were a couple of scary moments… Mr. Van Driver was making quick lane changes and couldn’t see the semis he was passing until he was quite too close to them, which affected us, too, behind him. I was a little tense, but not doing too badly.

And then it happened.

The back end of a semi trailer appeared suddenly in front of the van. “Eep!” I thought. “Go around!”

The van tried. Oh yes, it tried… it braked to slow down and tried to switch lanes to go around the semi, which didn’t appear to be moving at all, but it lost control and started a slide that sent the driver’s side corner smashing into the rear of the trailer. At that moment, the three seconds or so I was behind them, I knew that there was going to be no avoiding a collision. I wish I could say that I was immediately thinking about how best to hit or the science of the thing, but the truth is that I hit the brakes to try to slow SOMETHING down before it started, and sort of tried to steer for the snow bank, but as a result just lost control of the car as well. And by then, we’d slammed on my side into the passenger front of the van and gone careening into a snow bank.

I remember dimly thinking that the crash hadn’t jolted… quite as much as I’d thought it might… and second thought was: “Guess we’re not going to Chicago.” Yeah. I know. Brilliance all over. I was out of it in shock for just a moment, and the next thing I knew I heard one of the other people in my car say, “The van’s smoking!” and then a chorus of “Is everybody okay?”s… And then they were popping the doors open and trying to get out.

“Do you see my glasses?” Tim, on my passenger side, wanted to know.

“Do you see my cell phone?” I pleaded back. Something about those late-night fire drills in Bethany and Oakwood reminded me that even if you think somebody else has already called 911, you should STILL call for help. And at the moment, I was very much in favor of getting help.

Ahem. The glasses and phone were together on the floor.

Molly, Devin, and Andy were already out. I wasn’t sure my door would open because we were in a snowbank. And not thinking about the possibility of airbags going off (they hadn’t yet) or catching fire… I just sat there, collecting myself and calling 911.

Finally, assured that emergency vehicles were on their way, Tim and I got around to getting out, and caught sight of flames leaping from the engine of the van. I found myself thinking that surely it’d be okay, and I’d get my bag of stuff out of the back of the van. Right now our group was congregating on the corner, where another driver of an SUV was waiting- she had evidently hit another semi at the SAME corner just before we’d had our accident.

At the corner, we discovered that all 3 campus vehicles were definitely totaled. The car behind me had escaped the van-semi-us madness only to skate through and clip another truck as well as T-bone another car. But miraculously, as of yet everyone had walked away. In the van there were some hurting necks as well as bloody noses, and Professor MacGregor’s ribs were hurting badly.

The van was engulfed in flames… black smoke billowed up to the sky in voluminous clouds. It wasn’t long before only a flaming skeleton remained.

The group started moving inside the nearby gas station (God-provided, I’m absolutely positive). The drivers of the vehicles (myself, Jared, and Jeff Pepple as well as the other vehicles we’d hit) stayed outside to talk to the police.

As we stood there freezing, I realized that the only things I was feeling were a bit of tension in a couple muscles… really, truly a blessing.

Tim, nice guy that he is, stuck around outside as well… and gotta say, friend Tim, if ya read this, I appreciate how thoughtful and kind you were earlier in helping me just take care of stuff. You’re awesome, and made stuff a lot better, at least for me. Bless you!

Business taken care of, finally we headed inside to figure stuff out and see how people were doing. Seven of us ended up taken to the hospital… Amanda, Lauren, Alyssa, Heather, Dr. Chip, Jeff Pepple, and Sarah. Four others went later to get checked out. A couple possible concussions, and a lot of whiplash and bruising. Dr. Chip may have liver damage and broken ribs. Not cool, not at all... though considering what it had been, it’s not bad, either.

Before Dr. Chip left for the hospital, he told me to call everyone we’d been supposed to meet with in Chicago to cancel. Sooo, that was my task while we waited, which honestly I desperately needed. I was running on emergency mode, and truly needed something to do. I spent the majority of the two hours we waited at the gas station on the phone.

Finally, the amazing staff from First Missionary church came and rescued us and drove us- very slowly- back to campus.

We’ve debriefed, started taking stock of the items that were lost in the fire (for me, a whole duffle bag full of stuff, though… thankfully, mostly replaceable), taken inventory of injuries… and started taking ibuprofen. Still praying for everybody who’s waiting on tests at the hospital since we haven’t heard a lot from them yet.

Way to wipe out the whole Taylor fleet at one pass! I think we may have one van left… think that might be all, though.

So, all this to say… so glad we’re all safe. What a day… hot chocolate and cuddly blankets muchly needed. Thanks to everybody who was praying this morning—we needed that, too.

God is good!

I think that’s all for now…
Sleep will be soooooo good tonight!

Attention, Life: Would you please hold still?

2008-11-20T12:43:00.001-08:00

So.
A lot has happened since the last time I posted (which might explain why it's been a while).
The day after my last post of conviction/frustration, our university announced that due to lack of funds, our campus will be closing down its undergrad programs-- all of them-- in May after graduation. Talk about shock. I lost my blogging focus entirely, intent on discovering... what I'm gonna do next. I lost my job (hard to work in Admissions at a school that's no longer admitting), and while I am a senior, I still have one more semester and a practicum/internship to finish up after this May. To transfer for a single semester is absolutely ridiculous. A lot of us have been feeling pretty screwed over.

Well, it turns out I can finish my semester online and then-- still long-distance-- do my practicum with the same prof as an overseer, and finish up by next fall-ish. Graduating in December, but finished earlier, most likely. Trust me, that sounds fine to me! Even if I will be killing myself to manage 19 credits next semester.

And again... changes on the horizon, it looks like. Nothing 100% for sure, but sure enough to be exciting/scary.

If I can just get through these final projects (which I'm effectively avoiding by writing here)... I'll be doing great!

Roommate Corrine and I are singing "For Good" from Wicked as a duet tonight. We're ridiculously obsessed with that musical. Ah, well... life requires the occasional obsession to keep it interesting, I think.

Would love to hear your thoughts on your life... or mine, for that matter. Find me on Twitter/Facebook or comment me here. :D

Sending a grin your way!

Would you rather... never be able to smile, or be permanently smiling?

It happened again...

2008-10-12T01:31:00.001-07:00

Tonight, driving in Indianapolis, it happened again:

This time, our car full of professor and three students was approached by a thin, desperate-looking woman at a red light, begging someone, anyone, in plaintive, deadened tones to “Help me out, will you?” with her hand extended as she wound her way through the cars that stood still at the light.

Of course we didn’t.

Of course no one did.

You don’t open your window in the middle of a dark inner-city night to hand money to a strange, filthy woman outside. You lock your doors and keep driving. And you certainly never make eye contact.

Linette said that the hard part is that… looking at the woman, standing as a vague, hungry-looking silhouette in the middle of halted traffic that glowed dimly in the rosy traffic-light wash, you can’t see her story. You don’t know how she became who she is.

Does that matter? Jesus saw the outcasts- the lepers, the woman at the well. He did see their pasts, but that didn’t seem to matter as much. What he saw and acted on was who they were at that moment– both their immediate needs AND the people they were meant to become. And then he took care of both. Even at risk to himself.

“Lady, I’ll pray for you.” Is that the best we can do?

Why do I keep seeing this? Why does this keep happening to me?
Maybe God’s trying to tell or show me something…

Gotta Love It...

2008-10-11T23:56:00.000-07:00

Tonight, you'll have to forgive me if I sound particularly book-ish. I just got back from probably the most amazing field trip I've ever been on as a writer, and I have words swirling through my mind and stories bubbling in my writer's sense and magical words ringing in my ears. And yes, I know it's 3am, but I've gotta get this out before I explode!

I'm taking a children's literature class right now, and since it's a very small class (there are 5 of us) our fabulous Professor Settle decided to venture out and take us to Indianapolis to the Hoosier Storytelling Festival.Here's Professor Settle and the two other classmates (Becky [c] and Linette) who were able to go on the trip yesterday, sitting in the main tent as we were listening to Kevin Kling (who's on NPR, All Things Considered).We got there late last night and enjoyed quite a walk through the city on our way to listen to Scary Stories.

There were storytellers from a wide variety of cultural backgrounds- Chinese/Japanese, African American, Native American among them. Each with its own twist, its own style. Some I liked more than others, but... that's something you can count on anywhere! One thing I loved all around was the obvious presence of culture as an element of the storytelling.

We stayed last night at Prof. Settle's sister's house, which was amazingly generous of her. And then this morning, we all got up and headed out for a tour of the Indianapolis/Marion County Public Library.

Yeah, yeah, I know. It sounds like a waaay weird and nerdy thing to do. And maybe it was.

And yes, I'm the kind of person who could live in a books-only library for an indefinite length of time, devouring the written word and little else. But this... this is a different experience altogether. But trust me: You'd like it.

This... is just their lobby.

That um... dwarfs the whole library back where I'm from. Eheh.

So yes. Hugeness established.

We continued onward to the children's section. Yes, I do want to write for kids. But yes... this was an incredible kids' section. I challenge any adult with any imagination NOT to want to hang out there!

The room with the interactive "green screen stage" that lets you be on TV:
The Learning Curve's Vortex, which displays different quotes and colorful images while kids read:
Does this look like any kind of library you've ever seen before? It's... veeery tech-savvy.
But my favorite element of tech-ness would have to be this little guy: Pleo.

Pleo is a robotic dinosaur that kids (or probably even just really curious grownups) can program to move and respond... veeery convincingly like a real animal. According to the tour guide: "He loves to have his chin scratched." And he did. The evidence? He purred. It was pretty darn cool. Note to parents, self, or pet-limited others: If you can't have a real pet, this guy could come in a close second. Definitely better than a goldfish for the whole cuddle factor.

So anyway. Yes. The library was definitely a high point for me!

After that, our little group headed back over to hear stories... stories of ALL different kinds. One lady was dressed up as a former Civil War nurse. Another group told Bible stories. In another tent, a children's theater group presented a dramatic representation of an African/Haiti folk tale. Another tent offered crafts. (Yes, I did make an African mud cloth... because I'm just crafty like that. Tee hee!) We heard inspiring stories about overcoming obstacles and hanging on to love until death because you value every last second. We heard stories about mermaids and about coyotes, bears, and even haunted trees.

But despite the differences in how the stories were told and the emotions behind them, I discovered something beautiful that I think pretty much everybody at that festival had in common: We're all in love with the spirit of Story. Everyone has a story. Everyone has something to share. And there's magic in the words that relate that so clearly and so deeply that you can see the crystal tear falling in slow motion from the little Indian girl's browned face to the dry earth, where it sends up a tiny puff of dust.

It's incredible.

That's why I want to be a writer.

Hmm... check this out...

2008-09-25T15:58:00.000-07:00

Wanted to invite anybody who keeps up with me here to check out the TUFW student blogs at http://www.tufwblogs.com/ . I'm posting there, too, which is exciting. It's a pretty nifty site, so look us up!

Did I Blow It?

2008-09-25T13:40:00.001-07:00

My roommate Corrine and I went to Walmart this morning because we have some weekend *PLANS* that involve people and food. (Can you say party time? ohhh yeah!) If everybody we’ve invited comes over on Saturday night, we could have 16 people in our apartment. We’re wondering where we’re going to put them all. What a great problem to have!

But all that aside. We were headed out of Wally-World with our plunder when I saw this man walking the same way we were. As we got to the car, I heard him call out, but assuming he was talking to someone else, I pulled open the door and put the milk on the back seat.

But he walked right toward us with this preface: “I don’t mean no harm.”

Um… Awkward moment. I wasn’t sure whether to just hop in the car and tell Corrine to start driving, or… warily stay and finish the conversation. I didn’t think he DID mean any harm, but still… two single girls, a strange guy… I kind of blinked toward him, not sure what to do.

He stopped just a few feet shy of us. “I don’t mean no harm,” he reasserted. ”I just need 80 cents. Tryin’ to buy gas for my mower so I can mow my grass, that’s all. This is embarrassing, I’m sorry… I just need 80 cents. Can you help me?”

He must have come from the Walmart gas station across the parking lot.

Talk about an awkward moment! What should we do? I was brought up by parents who always told me a) that I should be kind to people, but b) that I should never give money to strangers, because who knows who they might be and they could totally be some psycho freak drug addict who just wants to know if you have money and really wants to kidnap you, shove you in their trunk, and take you to Tuscaloosa where you’ll likely live out the rest of your life chained to a flagpole in a closet feeding rats that escaped from the local experimental laboratory.

But… this guy seemed sincere, at least. I glanced at Corrine because I was closer to the guy and the likely one to act, but frankly, she was no help. I was on my own, drat it.

Ummmm… Well, I have to admit, I’ve been that guy before. Stuck without enough cash in a place that’s only full of strangers, wondering if there’s anybody who’d trust me enough- and anybody I could trust enough- who I could get help from. I pulled up my purse and opened the top, glancing down inside to see if I had enough change. I knew I did… somehow over the course of this semester I’ve actually accumulated a little cash (sooo unusual for someone who lives on a debit card, but hey, I’ll take it).

But… I chickened out. I almost grabbed my three quarters and a nickel to offer to him, but I suddenly went into a FREEZE mode. I can’t do this… I thought, and all those what-ifs that I was raised to think about in the interest of personal defense flooded my mind.

So. I looked back at the guy and I lied. “I’m sorry,” I said with an apologetic, if slightly nervous, smile. “I don’t have 80 cents.”

“I don’t, either,” Corrine echoed.

“Sorry,” I said again, as if saying it twice made it somehow more true. I was sorry. I felt awful.

And that feeling just intensified as we got in the car and shut and locked the doors, glancing back at the man who was left in our wake, now trying to find someone else to accost in his pursuit of money to pay for his gas.

If I hadn’t been scared, I could’ve made a difference in somebody’s life today. Did I totally blow it? What harm could there have been in giving the guy 80 cents? He was probably legit… Yeah, I know, who knows? But still… What would Jesus have done?

Sometimes I think we let our fear get in the way of helping other people out with the little things. If I were bold, maybe I could have used that 80 cents as an avenue to share my faith. I wonder if God was testing me, trying to show me how I can do things differently.

What do you think? Did I blow it completely? What would you do?

The Dizzy Butterfly

2008-09-04T19:50:00.000-07:00

If you've ever worked really hard at something in order to see it grow and change, working to the point of exhaustion... you can probably relate with me today. It feels absolutely amazing to be on the ground-laying level of things, working to make sure the details all flow together. You see the plans you made, the ideas you had, the vision you set taking shape and starting to meld, and you realize how fulfilling the whole thing is.

But it's like the climax of a novel: There's a deadline or forty-two to meet, there are people who are relying on you to get your end in line, people who are willing to show up and help you if you're organized enough to be able to tell them what has to happen, projects that could very well flop if you don't do what you said you would. You have to come through. And with any kind of thing where you have even a little influence, whether you're in class or on the job, you've got to have perseverance.

For me today, that included six hours of planning and practicing music for chapels here on campus, plus a three-hour meeting for my job in the admissions office, plus two hours of biology homework. Whew... But... It's amazing! I'm seriously not trying to brag, but I am really excited about the things I'm involved in this year, and about the people I'm doing them with. I'm watching projects come together and ideas and even dreams being lived out! Though I have to confess, I still feel overwhelmed. There's still so much left to do! I'm not sure what these skills are that God's trying to hone in me, but I have this feeling that all of this stress right now is really part of something bigger, something he's trying to get me to understand.

Today, life feels like... I'm spinning around so fast the world's a blur around me. So dizzy, now that the day's over I just want to flop back on the couch and let it catch up with me. But even times like today when I'm stretched beyond belief, I know God's using this as a cocoon experience. It's a tight squeeze, but I think I'll be a better person in the end because of it.

When Weaknesses Become Strongholds...

2008-08-01T12:52:00.000-07:00

I'm trying something new. Again. I'm trying to do something differently and change the way I go about everyday life. And while I'm so excited about the way this could end up, I'm afraid I'm going to fail miserably.

Change is hard. I'm a creature of habit who doesn't want to change her habits. But also... I'm a woman who doesn't want to be writing in this blog til she's 87 about how she wants to change... yet... somehow never does it.

I know I'm not the only one with this problem.

As humans, we pull out excuses for our failure. "It's hard!" we say, as if that's somehow reason enough not to put our all into the effort. Or "It's not in my nature!" Of course it isn't. If it were in our nature, we wouldn't need to change, would we? And then, perhaps the most cutting of all: "I just don't have what it takes." Obviously, since I can't succeed, there must be something wrong with me. This is a load of hooey. On our own, without God's support, yes, we're ineffective and insignificant. But in Christ, our victories have been won for us already. "This is the victory that has overcome the world: even our faith," John writes.

When we consent to tell ourselves these lies, and then consent to believe them, we're giving our weaknesses more power over us as well as making ourselves less effective in defeating them. We have to rely in faith on Christ as The Overcomer, and on his strength as we meet our weaknesses in battle. Why allow our weaknesses to become strongholds? "Everyone born of God overcomes the world," John says. Drawing strength from this sonship of the Most High God, we too are overcomers.

A Pondrous Life

2008-07-18T10:39:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know it's been a while. But apparently nobody's discovered my blog here anyway (not that I've told anyone), and I've been busily recording thoughts elsewhere. I still need to work on closing down my Xanga and MySpace, but I find I'm dragging my feet. It's another chore in a list of many, and it's not like I really need something else to do.

Though a job this summer would've been nice. Things haven't turned out at all the way I'd thought they would in that regard. I'm saying I believe it's because God had other ideas, which is true. He told me when I lost the stupid waitressing job at Fantail to "someone more experienced" (after only 8 hrs on the job) that he knew what I needed. Evidently, that's included a lot of free time. Not to mention a glorious five days with my friend Jen that left me with a sore diaphragm from all the amazing laughing that happened. And I've babysat for some great kids and gotten involved with my family in a way that I hadn't been for quite a while. Such things are important. Especially the family part.

My fam's looking at some changes. Maybe big ones. Or maybe not. Ones that could affect how we relate to each other and how we function as a family. Security just in the everyday norm is sort of tilting off its center. It sure makes things interesting! Now don't get worried. Change is a good thing. It's just the unknown of life in general that makes my fingers clammy and my heart beat just a little faster. (Get used to it, Lyn... it's the way things are!) That, and the fact that the things that change for them as my family these days... only partially include me, even though they affect me quite entirely.

Enough of that confusingness. It's a happy summer day! And that, above all, is a cause for thankfulness!

Lyndi and Writing

2008-01-08T10:09:00.001-08:00

I reached a logical conclusion today regarding the purpose of my life and my goals for my career. If you read this, I feel certain you'll agree with me, and assert that my logic is unarguably good. Here is my proof process:

Lyndi isn't half bad at writing.
Lyndi loves to write.
Lyndi loves to be paid for writing.
Lyndi writes whether she gets paid or not.
Lyndi might as well get paid for writing.

Conclusion: Lyndi should get a job writing.

I feel... brilliant.

A Sick Bird

2008-01-02T20:37:00.000-08:00

Being sick in a dorm reminds me a bit of how some animals communicate. Remember? One bird lets out a lonely cry, hoping that some other animal will hear and reply. Moments later, the poor, sad creature perks up as he hears another lonely bird respond with a hopeful lament.

A few moments ago, I was coughing my heart out, the way I have been for the last week at home. Suddenly- what was that I heard? An answering cough from down the hall, equal in depth and soul and… guts to mine!

Aha! It’s true! I’m not alone in this world!

This poor sick bird will cough herself to sleep happy tonight.

"She couldn't laugh, so she coughed instead."

2007-12-27T17:58:00.000-08:00

Let's put it this way: Lyndi in combo with a naaasty cough and a worship practice where she consented to sing equals a Lyndi who sorely (in a literal sense) doesn't want to use her voice. I'm now sitting here drinking hot water with lemon and honey and whispering instead of talking or even resorting to some strange version of charades to get my point across. Probably should just give up verbal communication altogether in hopes of sounding halfway decent come Sunday, but... think that might drive my family nuts. So this is going to have to work, I suppose!

How was your Christmas? Mine was... pretty good! I had a nice time with my family on Christmas day, and got some stuff I wanted, plus some stuff I hadn't even thought I needed, but realized I did anyway- a replacement alarm clock, for instance, and... a tool kit, of all things.

Uneventful post as this is, I think 'tis about it for now. Talk at you later!

The First One

2007-12-21T15:12:00.000-08:00

Yes, I know. Another blogsite.

The word-addicted me has found yet another outlet for her loquacity, though for the moment I've nothing in particular to say.

Never fear! That shall be amended in the near future.