Have you seen my home?

I have realized in the last couple of days that home is an elusive and confusing idea. What is a home? And more importantly....where is my home. When I was in college I went through the whole two places feeling like home bit. When I went back to Alabama...that felt like home, but when I went up to Wisconsin, that felt like home. The longer I have been away from my parents house the less it feels like "HOME" in that this is where I permanently belong sense...but for a couple of days I always feel content and happy in my familiar growing up surroundings.
On Wednesday when I went up to Milwaukee and revisited Hales Corners I had that same sense of coming home. It was familiar and comfortable. I knew the people and felt a sense of belonging...but that's not really home either.
When I am around certain people I feel like I have come home, but their locations keep changing...
according to the US postal service my home is still New Orleans, but after this afternoon my apartment will be empty and my stuff will be back in Alabama..
so I continue to wonder
........where is my home?

From Porn to Priests

Yesterday I had one of those afternoons that while it is happening you stop yourself and ask "wait, is my life a movie?".
It began like many of my days of late...I slept in...cleaned-up, talked on the phone and in general organized my life. Gretchen came home from school early and was putting new strings on her violin when the fun began. I was getting ready to go out so that we could go and visit this little art/gift shop around the corner from her house. I come into the living room to ask Gretchen a question when we hear a loud "Oh....yes!!!" From the apartment below. Gretchen and I look at each other in shock. Could that sound be what we immediately believe it is......the screams continue with a bit more graphic language and we realize yes its true. Gretchens downstairs neighbors were engaged in a little bit of Monday afternoon sex. And while I can't think of a better way to spend a Monday afternoon.....listening in was not our idea of fun...so we headed out to check out the art shop that I wanted to see.

At first inspection this was like any othere art/gift shopt....but to our surprise the gift shop lady starts talking about holy art. Next thing we know we are being ushered back into a smaller hallway into the awaiting hands of Father Vincent. As I soon learn, Father Vincent is in charge of some kind of Holy Art society that was named after his brother a famous artist for the Vatican. This particular society even has in thier posession a reliquiry that contains a piece of the actual cross of Jesus completel with a certificate of authenticity. By this point Gretchen is freaked beyond all belief and no longer will make eye contact with me or Father Vincent.
Next our tour guide takes us out to another room to show us a picture of himself with the Pope, giving the Pope a copy of the book he wrote about his famous brothers artwork. "The Pope was very pleased with such a nice book", said Father Vincent. "Huh....a pope.....cool" was my eloquent reply. During this conversation Gretchen had escaped into yet another room filled with "Holy Art". Father Vincent and I follow with him pointing out almost every painting and telling me its Catholic history as well as the artists who created it, life story.
By the time Gretchen and I finally escaped after 6 rooms of catholic holy art and a reliquiry as well as a great deal of literature on the art organization as well as lectures that we should attend, I thought Gretchen was going to kill me.

I don't think I have ever experience such opposite experiences in a 45 minute period, separated by a one block span. I think next time Gretchen and I should invite Father Vincent to her apartment for some artistic interpretation listening!

If Its Not Illegal It Should Be

I need to begin by admitting to being pathetic and caring what others think of what I write. I love comments. My heart quickens every time I visit my blog and discover that someone has had a comment on something I have said. Its terribly sad, but its true. I love it!
So you can imagine my excitement when I come to my blog...see that my latest post has not one but two comments. More than one person love me hooray!!!!
But wait....these are not comments from my friends. These aren't even comments from real people. Its spam. Spam in the comments section of my very own personal forum. I felt so violated. What about my post on my school being under water makes you think that I would be interested in penile enlargement?
We need to put a stop to this outrage now. Somebody needs to end the spamming on blog comments. And that is all I have to say about that.
The end.

A New Perspective

This last week has thrown me into a time of self reflection. I have been given an opportunity to view things in a whole new light.
This is a view I wasn't expecting. This is a shot of my school taken in the last week. We are not sure when this was taken or whether the water got higher than this photo shows.

The large white roof in the center is our gym. To the right of that you can see our school. Right of that on the corner is our church. As you can see the school is surrounded by quite a bit of water, but we were optimistic about the fact that there doesn't appear to be roof damage. There is always an upside and more than that God is always faithful. I know He will bring good out of the destruction.

Shallow Like a Kiddie Pool

Over the last couple of days I have been given an opportunity to reflect and see the absolute lameness of about 90% of my thoughts. Of course yesterday was no exception.

Tomorrow my father and some other volunteers are heading down to Biloxi to help my cousin's husband work on rebuilding their home. Within the next couple of weeks I too will be traveling with building supplies to help rebuild a city. So naturally after thinking about all of the things I may need to do to help out my next thought goes to truly important matters....what will I wear? Shallow and lame I know..but its how my mind works. Ah ha I think...I can wear my new shirt from Oregon (dramatic pause) oh wait...its gone. And then I get hit with a pathetic sense of loss...over what? A cheap long sleeve t-shirt from a suvenier shop in Oregon. Talk about your materialistic freaks...its just a t-shirt and it made me sad.

Someday I hope to be evolved enough that I care about the truly important things and not the materialistic crap I surrounded myself with. Keep me in your prayers

On the other hand, I am in a warm home with power and water, surrounded by people that love me and hounded by a phone that never stops ringing. My life is very great right now. The only thing that could make it better would be some little strappy sandals....

evolving is hard work....give me time :-)