Hooray for a healthy and beautiful niece! Eliza Grace is home and doing great - and so are her parents. Andrew, my nephew, apparently likes to run by her, touch her nose, and walk away singing "na na na na na." (He's 2, can you tell?) I really wish I could see them, but I guess this is what comes of our choices to live on opposite ends of the country.
Grandma seems to be doing better, and, according to my mom, is a little disappointed in that. :) She's no longer on morphine and the pain has subsided, but the general consensus is that while death may not be imminent anymore, it also may not be far off. Grandma just wants to go be with God - she's not enjoying her new nursing home, which I can imagine. Mentally, she's always been incredible, but she just can't live on her own physically speaking anymore. But it sounds like a large majority of the other residents aren't in the same boat. They do, however, have Packer parties there, so...well, it's Wisconsin. :)
In other news, Jeremy and I started classes again on Monday. I'm realizing that this will be our first full year as Fuller students. With the start of the quarter came the start of Greek, for me. This will be interesting. I'm not sure my crappy high school Spanish program counts as experience studying foreign languages, so I'm not sure if I'm good at learning foreign languages. But, as my prof reminded us, the goal of this class isn't to communicate with Greek-speaking people. We don't have to hold a conversation in Greek or write papers in Greek, or even construct brand new sentences in Greek. Everything we need to know and interact with is already written in the New Testament, and we just have to know enough to work with that material. That made it feel a whole lot less daunting to me. Also at Fuller, I'm taking a class on the Gospels with a woman who is supposed to be one incredible Gospels prof, so I'm excited. I really love New Testament Biblical Studies classes, especially the Gospels. So, this will be great.
Also, I was accepted into Fuller's choir - or Vocal Ensemble, as they like to be called. There was an audition, and I could tell I was very out of practice as far as classical singing goes, but I made it. I think I would've been a little embarrassed to not make it. The choir is pretty good, but not incredible, and after singing in some pretty awesome choirs at Calvin, it would be sad to be rejected from this little number. But, I wasn't, so hooray! Anyway, our first rehearsal was last night, and I was surprised how much I missed it. I realized that the past year (and then some) since I've been out of college was the first time in my life that I wasn't part of a choir since I was about 6 years old. So it was nice to be at it again. Yes, I know, I am a choir nerd.
Another self-revelation came to me in Greek. The letter "O", which in Greek is "omicron", which is the symbol for the short-O sound. (Aren't you impressed with my extensive alphabetical knowledge? And only after one class and about three I-don't-know-how-to-do-this-I-can't-do-this freakout moments!) In class, the professor was helping us through the alphabet and the pronunciation of each letter (similar to a kindergarten class exercise), and when he got to "omicron" and said it was a short-O, like "aw" (sort of), I thought to myself...that's not a short-O sound. But then I thought back to my singing diction classes and remembered that yes, that is the short-O sound, but why does it sound so weird to me when it's spoken? And I realized, I learned how to talk in Wisconsin, in which the short-O is more like a really nasally "ah." Oops.
Anyway, back to my attempt to read and pronounce various Greek words. I will not freak out...
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Developments in the Kelder Family
My grandma is not doing well. She's had heart problems for awhile now, late last week she was taken to the hospital with fluid in her lungs and kidneys, which are all symptoms of heart failure. A few months ago, she had to move out of her duplex and into an apartment in a retirement community, which was pretty difficult for her. Over the weekend, after being released from the hospital, she had to move from there to a nursing home. While in the process of moving, she said, "This is my last move. After this, the only move I'll make is (and then she pointed up)." Yesterday, my parents got a call from my uncle that Grandma seemed to be quickly moving towards the end. She's in a lot of pain, they're giving her morphine, and my parents are awaiting the call that they should go to her right away. She's ready to go, and has been for awhile - but just pray for comfort and peace.
Meanwhile, my brother, Brian, had baby number 2 this morning! At 7:40 a.m. (Eastern - which is weird because my clock is turning to 7:40 a.m. Pacific at this very moment...), Eliza Grace Kelder was born. Everyone is healthy and happy! Andrew (my nephew) can already say her name (minus the z).
As my mom said in an e-mail this morning, "My Mom, your Grandma, is on her deathbed at the very same time Christy is in labor. Both are in pain, and soon both will experience a wonderful new life. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away!"
Meanwhile, my brother, Brian, had baby number 2 this morning! At 7:40 a.m. (Eastern - which is weird because my clock is turning to 7:40 a.m. Pacific at this very moment...), Eliza Grace Kelder was born. Everyone is healthy and happy! Andrew (my nephew) can already say her name (minus the z).
As my mom said in an e-mail this morning, "My Mom, your Grandma, is on her deathbed at the very same time Christy is in labor. Both are in pain, and soon both will experience a wonderful new life. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away!"
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
feelings
On the show 30 Rock, the source of all wisdom, narcissistic actress Jenna Maroney teaches the innocent NBC page Kenneth Parcell about "back door compliments." For example, Jenna says, "It's hard for me to watch American Idol, because I have perfect pitch." She's teaching Kenneth to slide a self-compliment into a normal conversation, to which Kenneth rightly responds, "Eew."
I've been holding myself back from getting into some conversations that will inevitably become heated debates, because lately I've been realizing that I'm not sure if the strength of my opinions is solely due to my honest belief that I am truly in the right, or if it stems at least in part from an innate desire to judge people. Maybe it's all just one big back-door compliment.
However, I cannot hold it in any longer. So, in an attempt to say what I've been dying to say without saying enough to get me into an anger-inducing debate, here goes:
1.) If you're going to work in the church, you need to be aware of everyone you're working for, everyone you're working with, the reason your work exists, and the One who oversees it all. Without this, it doesn't work.
2.) Pointing out "fear-mongering" with fear-inducing tactics is hypocritical.
3.) Barack Obama is President of the United States. Some Americans did not vote for him, some Americans don't agree with some of his policies. But, obviously, a lot of Americans voted and agree, and that's how he got into office. So, America, please stop whining and doing ridiculous things like calling the President unfit for his office because he says the words "I" and "me" in his speeches (which, I might point out, all politicians - and most speechmakers in general - do, as well) and deal with it.
4.) Christianity has problems. It's full of Christians. Christians are human. Humanity is fallen. Problems are going to exist. Let's not deny the problems, but instead work on finding ways to remedy the problems. Please see #1.
5.) My dog hurt his paws, and he hobbles around and can't go down the stairs, and it makes my heart hurt.
That last one, we can discuss all you want. Because if you disagree with my feelings on that, you're probably heartless.
I've been holding myself back from getting into some conversations that will inevitably become heated debates, because lately I've been realizing that I'm not sure if the strength of my opinions is solely due to my honest belief that I am truly in the right, or if it stems at least in part from an innate desire to judge people. Maybe it's all just one big back-door compliment.
However, I cannot hold it in any longer. So, in an attempt to say what I've been dying to say without saying enough to get me into an anger-inducing debate, here goes:
1.) If you're going to work in the church, you need to be aware of everyone you're working for, everyone you're working with, the reason your work exists, and the One who oversees it all. Without this, it doesn't work.
2.) Pointing out "fear-mongering" with fear-inducing tactics is hypocritical.
3.) Barack Obama is President of the United States. Some Americans did not vote for him, some Americans don't agree with some of his policies. But, obviously, a lot of Americans voted and agree, and that's how he got into office. So, America, please stop whining and doing ridiculous things like calling the President unfit for his office because he says the words "I" and "me" in his speeches (which, I might point out, all politicians - and most speechmakers in general - do, as well) and deal with it.
4.) Christianity has problems. It's full of Christians. Christians are human. Humanity is fallen. Problems are going to exist. Let's not deny the problems, but instead work on finding ways to remedy the problems. Please see #1.
5.) My dog hurt his paws, and he hobbles around and can't go down the stairs, and it makes my heart hurt.
That last one, we can discuss all you want. Because if you disagree with my feelings on that, you're probably heartless.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Things I've Noticed in LA
Since we've been living in LA for just over 6 months now, I thought I'd share some of my observations. So, here's a little of what life is like in LA.
1) It's impossible to make an easy left turn at most intersections. While most intersections have lights, they rarely have left-turn signals. And, since no one in LA walks anywhere, there are always lots of cars at every intersection. This forces you to turn left when the light turns yellow, provided everyone else stops moving (which isn't always the case), or in the split-second after it turns red. I've seen many police officers employ this tactic as well, and it was even semi-condoned in Jeremy's driving test for his California license, so apparently it's just what must be done.
2) There is an alarmingly high percentage of hipsters in the LA population. Many of them appear to be malnourished and unable to hold themselves upright.
4) There is also an alarmingly high percentage of wannabe hipsters. You know, the kind that hang out with hipsters and try to look like them by wearing cool shoes or tight pants, but really they're too put together or too well-fed, or something else subtle but important isn't quite right, and they just look awkward. Yeah, they're here, too.
5) Nobody drinks coffee here. Except Fuller students.
6) The stereotypes of California body-consciousness and fashion-forwardness appear to be true. This isn't to say that everyone here is skinny and wearing designer labels all the time (although in some areas this looks to be the case), but I've noticed many more people who seem to put more emphasis on their bodies and clothes looking put together at all times. People seem to know what looks good on them and what the latest trends are, and they go for it. Women also wear much fancier shoes here than in the Midwest. Clinton and Stacy would be proud.
7) The flip-side of number 6, however, isn't so pretty. While there are a large number of people who just look really good, I also see many people who...well...don't look so good... I also see more people here who have had way too many plastic surgeries and no longer look human, or people who want to look like their favorite pop star and don't wear enough clothes - and, sometimes, don't have the body of their favorite pop start to pull it off. This, I think, is body-consciousness taken too far. It also seems more prevalent on the beach than in the city.
8) I love going to the store and hearing multiple languages around me. I also oddly enjoy going to places where I'm the only white person. I've never really lived in a place where that can be true - at least not as often as it is here.
9) I'm realizing that I'm tall. Just today, I was in a public bathroom and every sink was in use. As I looked down the mirror, I noticed that every woman at all the other sinks were about to my shoulders. I'm not sure how I feel about this. But I've discussed this before.
10) Apparently, wildfires aren't scary. Even when they're 5-ish miles away from you. Who knew?
Bonus! 11) Married life really is remarkably different than single life with roommates. Not to say that I didn't love my roommates and that I'd trade anything for the fun we had at Calvin - but I love married life. A lot. And having a dog just enhances it. :)
The End.
Don't you want to come visit me so you can experience all this for yourself?
1) It's impossible to make an easy left turn at most intersections. While most intersections have lights, they rarely have left-turn signals. And, since no one in LA walks anywhere, there are always lots of cars at every intersection. This forces you to turn left when the light turns yellow, provided everyone else stops moving (which isn't always the case), or in the split-second after it turns red. I've seen many police officers employ this tactic as well, and it was even semi-condoned in Jeremy's driving test for his California license, so apparently it's just what must be done.
2) There is an alarmingly high percentage of hipsters in the LA population. Many of them appear to be malnourished and unable to hold themselves upright.
4) There is also an alarmingly high percentage of wannabe hipsters. You know, the kind that hang out with hipsters and try to look like them by wearing cool shoes or tight pants, but really they're too put together or too well-fed, or something else subtle but important isn't quite right, and they just look awkward. Yeah, they're here, too.
5) Nobody drinks coffee here. Except Fuller students.
6) The stereotypes of California body-consciousness and fashion-forwardness appear to be true. This isn't to say that everyone here is skinny and wearing designer labels all the time (although in some areas this looks to be the case), but I've noticed many more people who seem to put more emphasis on their bodies and clothes looking put together at all times. People seem to know what looks good on them and what the latest trends are, and they go for it. Women also wear much fancier shoes here than in the Midwest. Clinton and Stacy would be proud.
7) The flip-side of number 6, however, isn't so pretty. While there are a large number of people who just look really good, I also see many people who...well...don't look so good... I also see more people here who have had way too many plastic surgeries and no longer look human, or people who want to look like their favorite pop star and don't wear enough clothes - and, sometimes, don't have the body of their favorite pop start to pull it off. This, I think, is body-consciousness taken too far. It also seems more prevalent on the beach than in the city.
8) I love going to the store and hearing multiple languages around me. I also oddly enjoy going to places where I'm the only white person. I've never really lived in a place where that can be true - at least not as often as it is here.
9) I'm realizing that I'm tall. Just today, I was in a public bathroom and every sink was in use. As I looked down the mirror, I noticed that every woman at all the other sinks were about to my shoulders. I'm not sure how I feel about this. But I've discussed this before.
10) Apparently, wildfires aren't scary. Even when they're 5-ish miles away from you. Who knew?
Bonus! 11) Married life really is remarkably different than single life with roommates. Not to say that I didn't love my roommates and that I'd trade anything for the fun we had at Calvin - but I love married life. A lot. And having a dog just enhances it. :)
The End.
Don't you want to come visit me so you can experience all this for yourself?
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Gorillas
Today, Jeremy and I went to the zoo. We spent some time looking at the gorillas, and I noticed a large, brown, crusty area on the hand railings. Also, we noticed that while most of the animals in the zoo were sleeping or playing in the water, the gorillas were simply sitting alone, looking very crabby.
Suddenly, a zoo worker came running to the scene, brandishing his spray bottle of cleaner and a big, thick rag. "Excuse me! Excuse me! Please let me through!" he yelled to the gorilla-awed crowd, as he pushed his way towards the crusty spot. All the while, the gorillas watched and pouted.
As he feverishly scrubbed down the crusty area, we all glanced at him, not thinking much of his need to clean the railing - and, I noticed, a rather large area of brown crustiness on the pavement below. After some time of scrubbing, a woman next to the worker asked, "How did this get so dirty?" The man looked at the sulking gorillas, then smiled at the woman and answered, "Sometimes the gorillas get sick of people looking at them, so...they threw it..."
Yes, my friends. Today, angry gorillas threw their poop at adoring fans.
The End.
Suddenly, a zoo worker came running to the scene, brandishing his spray bottle of cleaner and a big, thick rag. "Excuse me! Excuse me! Please let me through!" he yelled to the gorilla-awed crowd, as he pushed his way towards the crusty spot. All the while, the gorillas watched and pouted.
As he feverishly scrubbed down the crusty area, we all glanced at him, not thinking much of his need to clean the railing - and, I noticed, a rather large area of brown crustiness on the pavement below. After some time of scrubbing, a woman next to the worker asked, "How did this get so dirty?" The man looked at the sulking gorillas, then smiled at the woman and answered, "Sometimes the gorillas get sick of people looking at them, so...they threw it..."
Yes, my friends. Today, angry gorillas threw their poop at adoring fans.
The End.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Random thoughts for today:
1.) Jeremy and I bought our books for fall today. While it's always depressing to lay down that amount of money all at once, there's still a comfort in getting all my books on my shelves. Even when I was little, I remember that I would always feel a little nervous on the first day of school, but instantly felt calmer when my books were handed out. So, hooray for books. This quarter, however, they are HUGE, but oddly inexpensive. Go figure.
2.) Speaking of books, I've got all this free time on my hands, with even more to come because Jeremy's got some intense work weeks coming up while he helps with Fuller's orientation, and I'm looking for a good book to read. I just finished my Anne Lamott book, which was wonderful, and then I started reading Gilead by Marilynne Robinson only to realize that I've already read it once. I want to read A Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, or even re-read the Harry Potter books but I'm not sure I want to commit to a series - and once I start the series I've got to read them all. I'm thinking about Cold Mountain because I've had it for awhile and my mom and my sister both liked it, who I generally trust on books. But does anyone have any suggestions? Hehoff?
3.) Charlie's poop-ninja-ness has gotten better, thank goodness. During Jeremy's family's stay, Charlie got by with murder because we were distracted by everything else going on in our apartment. Thus, Charlie nurtured a love of pooping on Jeremy's brother's air-mattress-bed, which he managed to do almost every other day. Since then, Charlie's developed the uncanny ability to blitz-poop in the house. For example, one time I was sitting on the couch, watching something on TV, with Charlie sleeping next to me. I got up to get something to drink, with Charlie staying where he was on the couch. When I came back, Charlie seemed to be exactly how he was before, but there was poop on the floor. Poop ninja. But now he's getting better again, and we're going on more regular walks, when the oh-so-terrifying garbage truck isn't prowling the streets.
4.) I feel like, seeing as I am a woman and pursuing theology, I should take a class in feminist theology. I feel like I should be championing the cause of feminist theology, calling for liberation from the predominantly white male world of theological studies. But...so far, everything I've read or heard in feminist theology sounds like it's coming from a misunderstanding of the "standard" theology of the well-known white males. I don't feel oppressed by people like John Calvin or Jurgen Moltmann or Richard Niebuhr or Walter Rauschenbush. Generally, I agree or disagree with these people based on their reading of scripture. And what I've seen of feminist theology is in large part coming from a reaction to men such as these, rather than a particular understanding of scripture. Does this make me a bad woman? Maybe I should take a class in it, just to make sure I'm not misunderstanding feminist theology altogether. Hmmm...
5.) I'm going to have popcorn for dinner and watch This is Spinal Tap with my husband. We saw Spinal Tap live on the Conan O'Brien show, so how can we not watch their movie? :) Also, Charlie has to poop. So long, faithful readers - who I now know are greater in number than Anna and Hehoff.
2.) Speaking of books, I've got all this free time on my hands, with even more to come because Jeremy's got some intense work weeks coming up while he helps with Fuller's orientation, and I'm looking for a good book to read. I just finished my Anne Lamott book, which was wonderful, and then I started reading Gilead by Marilynne Robinson only to realize that I've already read it once. I want to read A Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, or even re-read the Harry Potter books but I'm not sure I want to commit to a series - and once I start the series I've got to read them all. I'm thinking about Cold Mountain because I've had it for awhile and my mom and my sister both liked it, who I generally trust on books. But does anyone have any suggestions? Hehoff?
3.) Charlie's poop-ninja-ness has gotten better, thank goodness. During Jeremy's family's stay, Charlie got by with murder because we were distracted by everything else going on in our apartment. Thus, Charlie nurtured a love of pooping on Jeremy's brother's air-mattress-bed, which he managed to do almost every other day. Since then, Charlie's developed the uncanny ability to blitz-poop in the house. For example, one time I was sitting on the couch, watching something on TV, with Charlie sleeping next to me. I got up to get something to drink, with Charlie staying where he was on the couch. When I came back, Charlie seemed to be exactly how he was before, but there was poop on the floor. Poop ninja. But now he's getting better again, and we're going on more regular walks, when the oh-so-terrifying garbage truck isn't prowling the streets.
4.) I feel like, seeing as I am a woman and pursuing theology, I should take a class in feminist theology. I feel like I should be championing the cause of feminist theology, calling for liberation from the predominantly white male world of theological studies. But...so far, everything I've read or heard in feminist theology sounds like it's coming from a misunderstanding of the "standard" theology of the well-known white males. I don't feel oppressed by people like John Calvin or Jurgen Moltmann or Richard Niebuhr or Walter Rauschenbush. Generally, I agree or disagree with these people based on their reading of scripture. And what I've seen of feminist theology is in large part coming from a reaction to men such as these, rather than a particular understanding of scripture. Does this make me a bad woman? Maybe I should take a class in it, just to make sure I'm not misunderstanding feminist theology altogether. Hmmm...
5.) I'm going to have popcorn for dinner and watch This is Spinal Tap with my husband. We saw Spinal Tap live on the Conan O'Brien show, so how can we not watch their movie? :) Also, Charlie has to poop. So long, faithful readers - who I now know are greater in number than Anna and Hehoff.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Brett Favre
Today, Jeremy and I realized that we are going to the beach tomorrow with our youth group, and Jeremy didn't have a swim suit. So, we went to Target, hoping we could still find some cheap swim suits on sale. We did not, however, so we headed over to the mall. And what did I see upon entering the mall courtyard? A sports store, with the main display of nothing less than a #4 Vikings jersey. Brett Favre is a Viking. It's official.
Oh man.
I've avoided talking about this until now. But, my friends, today is your lucky day.
I have always been a Packer fan. I admit, in my early years, I was probably a stronger Packer fan on days when they played the Bears, but as I've grown older my love has grown stronger. And, much to the joy of my mother, I got my husband into "American football" and, what's more, the Green Bay Packers. When I was little, I wrote countless letters to the Packers, and even received autographed pictures of various players, including Brett Favre and Reggie White - my favorites - which I still have to this very day. And, as has every Packer fan, I quickly learned that the Minnesota Vikings are the football equivalent to vampires. Or pond scum. Or Nazis. (Yes, I went there.)
So, Brett Favre, were you not aware, after 16 seasons as a Packer, what it would do to your loving fans to become a Viking? Really? Did you really think this would be okay?
First, you retire, Brett Favre. Then, you want to come back. So, like a lonely ex-boyfriend, we embraced you again and welcomed you into our lives. Then, you retired again. And came back. And retired. And came back. Finally, when we simply couldn't handle this on-again-off-again relationship any longer, you became a Jet. This was okay. Generally speaking, we did not wish you harm. We wished you the best, even thought maybe we could still be friends one day, but we couldn't allow you to keep throwing our lives into upheaval. We had to move on. So, we chose Aaron Rodgers.
And then, Brett Favre, you retired again. We felt a wave of relief, thinking this finally brought closure. It was weird to see you in that different shade of green, but at least it wasn't purple. We began to look past the Brett Favre of the past, and towards a bright future with Aaron Rodgers.
And then, it happened, Brett Favre. You made the switch to the Dark Side. You became a Viking. A Viking! And now I have to look at your stupid #4 purple jersey in the sports stores in my malls.
All respect, all good will, is gone. We no longer wish you peace, success. We wish you fatigue. We wish you losses. We wish you a crappy defense and an even worse offense. Some of us even wish you injuries (although I, personally, am on the fence on this one...you were, after all, a big part of my life...)
I think you did it on purpose. There's no way you didn't know what this would do to us, after 16 years of being a Packer. I think this was out of spite. But you have to understand, Brett Favre, we had to move on. You said you didn't love us anymore, so we found someone else who did.
And now, Brett Favre, we have one of the top 5 quarterbacks in the league. That's right. What are you ranked, Brett Favre? Old. That's what. And guess what? You play my Packers on October 5. The day before my birthday. And I can't wait to wake up on my birthday with the satisfaction that we beat you and your stinking Vikings. Bring it, Brett Favre. You're going down.
Oh man.
I've avoided talking about this until now. But, my friends, today is your lucky day.
I have always been a Packer fan. I admit, in my early years, I was probably a stronger Packer fan on days when they played the Bears, but as I've grown older my love has grown stronger. And, much to the joy of my mother, I got my husband into "American football" and, what's more, the Green Bay Packers. When I was little, I wrote countless letters to the Packers, and even received autographed pictures of various players, including Brett Favre and Reggie White - my favorites - which I still have to this very day. And, as has every Packer fan, I quickly learned that the Minnesota Vikings are the football equivalent to vampires. Or pond scum. Or Nazis. (Yes, I went there.)
So, Brett Favre, were you not aware, after 16 seasons as a Packer, what it would do to your loving fans to become a Viking? Really? Did you really think this would be okay?
First, you retire, Brett Favre. Then, you want to come back. So, like a lonely ex-boyfriend, we embraced you again and welcomed you into our lives. Then, you retired again. And came back. And retired. And came back. Finally, when we simply couldn't handle this on-again-off-again relationship any longer, you became a Jet. This was okay. Generally speaking, we did not wish you harm. We wished you the best, even thought maybe we could still be friends one day, but we couldn't allow you to keep throwing our lives into upheaval. We had to move on. So, we chose Aaron Rodgers.
And then, Brett Favre, you retired again. We felt a wave of relief, thinking this finally brought closure. It was weird to see you in that different shade of green, but at least it wasn't purple. We began to look past the Brett Favre of the past, and towards a bright future with Aaron Rodgers.
And then, it happened, Brett Favre. You made the switch to the Dark Side. You became a Viking. A Viking! And now I have to look at your stupid #4 purple jersey in the sports stores in my malls.
All respect, all good will, is gone. We no longer wish you peace, success. We wish you fatigue. We wish you losses. We wish you a crappy defense and an even worse offense. Some of us even wish you injuries (although I, personally, am on the fence on this one...you were, after all, a big part of my life...)
I think you did it on purpose. There's no way you didn't know what this would do to us, after 16 years of being a Packer. I think this was out of spite. But you have to understand, Brett Favre, we had to move on. You said you didn't love us anymore, so we found someone else who did.
And now, Brett Favre, we have one of the top 5 quarterbacks in the league. That's right. What are you ranked, Brett Favre? Old. That's what. And guess what? You play my Packers on October 5. The day before my birthday. And I can't wait to wake up on my birthday with the satisfaction that we beat you and your stinking Vikings. Bring it, Brett Favre. You're going down.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Our Family's Myers-Briggs
Jeremy had to take the Myers-Briggs personality test today for his work at Fuller's orientation. So, we had a little fun.
Jeremy is an INFJ:
"Seek meaning and connection in ideas, relationships, and material possessions. Want to understand what motivates people and are insightful about others. Conscientious and committed to their firm values. Develop a clear vision about how best to serve the common good. Organized and decisive in implementing their vision."
This, in my judgment, is very much my husband. Jeremy thinks it makes him sound boring, but I disagree.
I (Jana) am an ISFJ:
"Quiet, friendly, responsible, and conscientious. Committed and steady in meeting their obligations. Thorough, painstaking and accurate. Loyal, considerate, notice and remember specifics about people who are important to them, concerned with how others feel. Strive to create an orderly and harmonious environment at work and at home."
I wouldn't really describe myself as painstaking and accurate, although Jeremy tells me otherwise. Hmmmm...
And, the most fun - Charlie is an ISTP:
"Tolerant and flexible, quiet observers until a problem appears, then act quickly to find workable solutions. Analyze what makes things work and readily get through large amounts of data to isolate the core of practical problems. Interested in cause and effect, organize facts using logical principles, value efficiency."
For example, Charlie will generally sit around until something scary or loud happens, or he smells food. Then, he will act quickly to find a workable solution - such as how to get away from the scary/loud happening, or how to eat the food. Also, he analyzes things with his nose and seeks to find logical principles and cause and effect - such as, "this smells bad and tastes delicious, thus, anything which smells bad tastes delicious" or "if I go towards that loud truck, it will eat me - so, I must run away."
Jeremy is an INFJ:
"Seek meaning and connection in ideas, relationships, and material possessions. Want to understand what motivates people and are insightful about others. Conscientious and committed to their firm values. Develop a clear vision about how best to serve the common good. Organized and decisive in implementing their vision."
This, in my judgment, is very much my husband. Jeremy thinks it makes him sound boring, but I disagree.
I (Jana) am an ISFJ:
"Quiet, friendly, responsible, and conscientious. Committed and steady in meeting their obligations. Thorough, painstaking and accurate. Loyal, considerate, notice and remember specifics about people who are important to them, concerned with how others feel. Strive to create an orderly and harmonious environment at work and at home."
I wouldn't really describe myself as painstaking and accurate, although Jeremy tells me otherwise. Hmmmm...
And, the most fun - Charlie is an ISTP:
"Tolerant and flexible, quiet observers until a problem appears, then act quickly to find workable solutions. Analyze what makes things work and readily get through large amounts of data to isolate the core of practical problems. Interested in cause and effect, organize facts using logical principles, value efficiency."
For example, Charlie will generally sit around until something scary or loud happens, or he smells food. Then, he will act quickly to find a workable solution - such as how to get away from the scary/loud happening, or how to eat the food. Also, he analyzes things with his nose and seeks to find logical principles and cause and effect - such as, "this smells bad and tastes delicious, thus, anything which smells bad tastes delicious" or "if I go towards that loud truck, it will eat me - so, I must run away."
soy lattes
I've been longing for a good coffee shop lately. When I spent a summer in Seattle, many of my most memorable - even life-changing - experiences came in a coffee shop. In college, my roommates (which they will forever be called, whether we're actually living in the same place or not) and I would always meet/drive together to the nearest Starbucks (or Biggby's, if Sara was in charge) and spend hours talking and laughing together.
Jeremy and I even made friends with a Starbucks barista in Grand Rapids, who we think was slowly evolving into a woman. Apparently I reminded this barista of his sister, and so he remembered Jeremy and me and often even remembered our normal orders. He (at least, I think you could qualify him as a he, still, by the time we left...I'm not sure what protocol on this would be) disappeared by the time I graduated from Calvin. Jeremy and I still speculate, sometimes, onhow his progress might be coming along.
So, today, I'm home alone. Jeremy's taking his final exam of the summer, then has to work until 2:00. And, since I have no money and no car, I decided to make our apartment into a coffee shop. I made myself a delicious soy latte, since we were left with a mostly-full half-gallon of soy milk from Jeremy's brother, which I only like when combined with coffee, and I turned on some coffee-house music. Charlie is sleeping next to me on the couch (although, as I type this, he's realizing he's falling off the couch, so he's slowly melting his way to the floor and trudging over to his favorite yellow chair), Coldplay is playing, and I'm drinking a nice foamy latte.
If only my roommates were here...
Jeremy and I even made friends with a Starbucks barista in Grand Rapids, who we think was slowly evolving into a woman. Apparently I reminded this barista of his sister, and so he remembered Jeremy and me and often even remembered our normal orders. He (at least, I think you could qualify him as a he, still, by the time we left...I'm not sure what protocol on this would be) disappeared by the time I graduated from Calvin. Jeremy and I still speculate, sometimes, onhow his progress might be coming along.
So, today, I'm home alone. Jeremy's taking his final exam of the summer, then has to work until 2:00. And, since I have no money and no car, I decided to make our apartment into a coffee shop. I made myself a delicious soy latte, since we were left with a mostly-full half-gallon of soy milk from Jeremy's brother, which I only like when combined with coffee, and I turned on some coffee-house music. Charlie is sleeping next to me on the couch (although, as I type this, he's realizing he's falling off the couch, so he's slowly melting his way to the floor and trudging over to his favorite yellow chair), Coldplay is playing, and I'm drinking a nice foamy latte.
If only my roommates were here...
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