Workshops...


It's not that I hate getting up in front of people and speaking, it's more like I wish I could be taken up into heaven in the arms of my sweet, sweet Jesus than speak in front of people. My job is definitely stretching me, which is probably a good thing. However, I must confess that the thought of having to get up and try and bestow wisdom upon unsuspecting college students makes me want to make a huge doodie in my pants. If I picture them naked will I get fired?

The workshop I'm giving is on a topic I like to call "Singleness". I'm opening my little hour o' fun with a 3 minute session of speed dating. It's my workshop I get to do what I want to do!! After that, I'm going say a prayer and dismiss. Other than this looming speaking engagement things are going well.

My niece turns 1 years old next month. That's really hard for me to believe. I remember piling into the Element, me in the cargo space covered in pillows, and taking the little rugrat home. Now she is quoting Meatwad like the best of them and attempting to walk, which is really just standing there teetering precariously. It's kinda like a top before it stops spinning, it wobbles erradically and then finally spazzes out. I love her so much!

I saw the movie "Little Miss Sunshine" last night with Jen. It was seriously one of the best movies I've ever seen. The Grandpa throws down some "effers", but apart from that it's awesome. I would recommend it to anyone. Anyways, I'm out.

"El Diablo"--A Political Rant:


I am appalled at the remarks made by Venezuelan President, Hugo Chavez. I'm not sure if anyone else has the gall to go into someone else's country and rip apart their leader. I'm sure Mr. Chavez is taking full advantage of the freedom he finds here, eating off the fat of the land. I may not agree with everything our President has done, but as our President I will support him because he is our leader. I think it deplorable and childish to stand in front of the U.N. and call George Bush the devil who left the room smelling like sulfur. What does this accomplish in a world already bent on self-destructing? Those in the Middle East insist on killing themselves and won't be happy until everything on God's green earth is blown to bits, N. Korea wants to play "We've got a nuclear warhead and there's nothing you can do about it," and now Hugo Chavez is dragging his people into a word war by demonizing President Bush. Chavez called the President a dictator...does he know what a dictatorship looks like? As he is buddy-buddy with Castro, I'm sure he's in complete denial of the oppression that the people of Cuba have lived with the years he's been in power.

The thing is, whenever a country is in trouble, whenever they need help, who are the first people they approach? Us! Criticize all you want until you need our help, then we're supposed to bend over backwards and put our military's lives on the line. Anyways, that's about as political as I get. End communication.

If my life were a dance movie:


I would be a struggling ballerina, whose uptight, upperclass parents want more out of life for their daughter than to be just...a dancer. I would practice for my senior recital till the tips of my pointed toes were raw and bloody, and just when I think I've almost got it...my dance partner gets hurt. "I sprained my ankle," he would say to me. "Nooooooooo!" I would yell in angst. I would run home because my life would be over and now I'll never get a job with a lucrative dance company.

Out of nowhere, a rough and tumble gangster, with suprisingly awesome dance skills would enter the picture. We would meet and I would say, "I carried a watermelon." He would agree to help me rehearse, but only until my partner got better. Through the montage that ensues, you would see the two of us slowly becoming more than dance partners. As we fall in love, he would teach me some hip hop dance moves and we would incorporate them into my routine making it a very risky move.

My parents, of course, do not approve of him. My dad tells me to end it and I yell, "But Daddy I love him!" All of a sudden my previous dance partner shows up and says he's all better and can dance with me again. I'm so torn, I don't know what to do. My hoodrat boyfriend gets mad and says, "You used me, baby." Nooooooo! My partner and I rehearse and rehearse, but to no avail...he just can't get the new steps right. Hoodrat and I can't stop thinking about each other. Even though we come from different worlds, we just know it's right.

My dance recital comes around and I'm left without a partner. Hoodrat comes to the rescue and says, "Nobody puts baby in the corner." "It's too late," I say. "No it's not, we can do this," he pleads. The camera would pan back and forth between us, staring intently into each others' eyes. We'd go out there and dance and then finally do the move we'd been practicing the entire movie. The judges and audience would stare in awe, and the music would end and we'd kiss.

After the dance recital I'd drop Hoodrat like a hot potato, because it really never would have worked out anyway.