welcome to the story.

Do you know the feeling of trying to translate or retell one of the most incredible moments of your life to someone else? Its hard because they weren't there. They didn't see. They didn't feel it. They didn't experience it. Its harder with something that is humorous. Because you really have to be immersed in something to find humor in it. If its just words. You want understand the humor in it. Again, you have to see, feel, and experience it before you can fully appreciate it. This is where it gets lost in translation. But I'm going to try and retell it. If you don't get it. Or can't fully appreciate it. Just try and put yourself in our shoes and it might help. Backdrop: We had a Napoleon Dynamite party last night. We dressed up. I wore a brown plaid suit with orange and white stripes. And my blue pumas with a blue liger shirt underneath. I didn't get a chance to wash it after I bought it at the thrift store. So I itched and contracted some sort of disease pertaining to worms and other crawling bugs. Matt wore brown wool pants. A dingy brown long sleeve shirt. A fabric blue striped tie (not a tie out of the material used today, but made out of stuff they make quilts or old rough bed spreads with) and a brown corduroy vest. Like Uncle Rico or a used car salesman. Mike (our AV guy) wore his regular jeans and tennis shoes but wore some type of blue and black with red, yellow, and green threading Mexican shirt. We had already ripped up Kroger in our outfits and had an incredible night with the movie, trivia, glamour shots, impersonations, etc. We even gave out a delicious bass as a prize. But the genius thing was that it was really tilapia because it was cheaper. We wrapped it in saran wrap. Scene: Enter us into Waffle House at 10:00 pm (a rather perfect time for normality considering it gets crazier as the night goes on). Mike and I order the All Star. Matt orders pork chops which was fitting because they kind of looked like steak and he looked like Uncle Rico. Who the flip orders pork chops at Waffle House? Another story perhaps. Female, sketched out cook approaches the table. (I'm going to to do my very best to recount every bit of the dialogue that happened, leaving out the boring stuff, but never embellishing what was said.) Christa: Thats a sweet jacket! Right on! (High five offered to me. I respond. I had just washed my hands.) Where'd you get it? Me: The thrift store. Christa: Oh my God! Let me tell you about my thrift store! Every Monday is half off! Me: Thats my thrift store too! (I've been twice) How do you think I could afford this suit? Christa: (High five offered to me. I respond.) I've got a coupon in the car I'm going to get for you. Its an additional $5.00 off. Check out my kicks (Shows us her shoes). I got two whole garbage bags in the car. I got this linen pants (they clearly weren't linen). Linen! (Matt looks awkward) Linen! (Matt looks at his plate) They're linen! (High five offered to me. I respond) Christa: So where are you guys coming from? Matt: We had a party across the street at Cross Pointe. Christa: Whoa . . . my band used to be called Cross Pointe. I think about it every time I drive past that place. My daughter goes to church down the street. She's in middle school. Some lady at the church tried to kidnap her (it was a lady who lived in one of, if not the richest subdivisions in all of Atlana. Not that it means that she can't kidnap a kid, but . . . ) They all said I was crazy. But it was proven that she was. She had kidnapped another kid too. Wow . . . weird stuff always happens to me. Its like miracles. The other day, when it was snowing, I saw a guy working on his car on the side of the road and he didn't have a hat so when I drove by him I just threw mine at him. Its miracles that make the world move. Josh: Thats awesome. That was nice of you. Matt: Have you heard of Cross Pointe? Christa: Yeah, Tim (our worship pastor) comes in here all the time. He orders toast and eggs. I used to be in a band once. My agent was the guy who created SpongeBob SquarePants. My daughter and I actually gave him the idea for it and wrote the song but he stole it. gotta work. check back this afternoon.

What I'm Reading This Week: Renovation of the Heart by Dallas Willard, The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis, and The Official SWISHmax Bible (design stuff) What I'm Listening To This Week: David Crowder Band, Enter The Worship Circle, Coldplay, The Penguin Cafe Orchestra, No Doubt, and David Byrne

I'm always playing around with ideas for a book. Nothing much ever really comes from these ideas of mine. I start writing a few pages or so. And then I quit. For no apparent reason other than I lose my interest in the story line or the characters. And if I can't stay interested, I can't expect any readers to stay interested. Another main reason, although I would surely deny this if asked face to face, is that I have a tremendous amount of trouble transitioning from a "story telling/narration" mode into the actual dialogue between the characters. For example, its much easier for me to write a paragraph about a boy and an affable light than it is for me to write a dialgoue between the boy and say his friend who lives in his tree house. I never know when to us "The boy said:" or "his friend in the tree house replied:" Does that make sense? With all of that being said. I think I may start another story. An idea that soon may fall apart when I have to make the characters talk. Keep in mind a Wes Anderson film or Leminity Snickett's kind of fantasy world as the subtext. But the basic characters are a former astronaut who peaked at the age of 28 and had to retire for unknown reasons that will play out later in the story. His brother who used to be a famous oceanographer and personal photographer for Jacques Cousteau. These two have struggled to be friends, let alone brothers. The astronaut has always been jealous of his oceanographer brother. But his brother loves him and desperately wants them to be best friends and go on adventures together. But its to complicated for the astronaut. There would be an Italian soap maker who makes his own soap and sells it. Probably two other characters that have yet to be defined. Maybe a 14 year old Indian boy, who speaks little to no English. They would all, with the exception of the oceanographer, all live in a somewhat old hotel on the beach in India, that used to be the most glorious hotel in all the world but time has worn it down. So they all live in this kind of parallel place that almost everyone else has forgotten about in this old, forgotten resort where only a few locals actually vacation too and many people just live there. And I don't have any ideas for what the plot is to be. Or could be. I like the characters have a lot of ideas on how to develop them and give them a lot of color. I just don't know what their adventure can be. I have a few ideas. But nothing that jumps. So . . . I need help. Does anyone know what their adventure can be? Any ideas on characters? Does this sound stupid? You'd have to watch The Royal Tenebaums, The Life Aquatic, Big Fish, and A Series of Unfortunate Events before you can get an idea of the world I want to create. A blend of those worlds as far as the context. I don't know. I'm reading the Silver Chair from The Chronicles of Narnia so maybe I will just end up writing about a boy and an affable light.

So I changed my first diaper last night. It was pretty sketchy. I was baby sitting Travis (my wannabe god-son but who can't be because I lost my priviledge I used to call him Bamboo when he was in the womb) and we were having fun and stuff. But then he made a mess. Just a number one and not a number two, but still. So I found some latex gloves and changed that bad boy out. And he was set for another round of couch/pillow wrestling and Wiggles rock concerts. On a side note, I got my hair cut today. Does anyone know why stylist wear all black? Its like some kind of gothic hair cut convention everytime I go. Its like Edward Scissorhands or something has had this huge influence on them. Paul Mitchell and Edward Scissorhands. On a sider note. When ever you need to feel creative in order to do creative things, I would highly recommend the Penguin Cafe Orchestra for your listening creative juices. Its music that doesn't have any words. All instrumental. Yet you feel like it has words. The music is talking to you. Without words. No lyrics but still talking. Still saying something. Calling you to something. Creating something. Very good. They did the song at the end of the Napoleon Dynamite movie when everything starts coming together. Kip gets on the bus. Grandma gets some lip off of Tina. Napoleon has the bass. Pedro celebrates with a red and green cake. I really really really really feel like I could take over the world right now. The music is that good. I am man! Arrggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh! I have a sceptor. I'm a boy with a crown and a sceptor! Arrggggggggggghhhhhhhhh! Actually I shouldn't make "arggghhhhhhhhhhhhh" noises even if they come to me because I would be a just ruler of the world. I was watching Jimmy Neutron last night with Travis, the one formerly called Bamboo, and there is this kid on there, one of Jimmy's best two friends. I forgot his name. Well he always wears this shirt with this cartoon character called Ultra Lord on it. He's like this super robot/human guy who is the strongest smartest guy. Anywho . . . I feel like Ultra Lord right now. All because of the Penguin Cafe Orchestra. So . . . . you might want to check it out.

Current Reading: Nothing - to busy. Sad I know. Current Listening: The Penguin Cafe Orchestra (highly recommend), Bob Dylan, Loretta Lynn - Van Lear Rose, Johnny Cash - Songs From My Mother's Hymnbook, The Poastal Service, Sigur Ros, Bruce Hornsby Current Viewing: The Life Aquatic