ya heard?
The purpose of this post is two-fold: One, I was tired of looking at that bra. Two, I wanted to let you know that I am in fact going skiing. I’m sure a lot of you were genuinely concerned. February 10th through the 17th. I’ll be sleeping in Beaver Creek and skiing where ever I can get cheap lift tickets. Hopefully it’ll snow, but not quite as hard as it was in the picture above, the great blizzard of 2005. But for the grace of God I didn’t get swept away in that storm.
While I’ve got your attention, let me give you some previews at posts to come:
- a review of my church membership class (olives part three, if you know what I mean)
- the verdict of my full-time position interview (thanks so much to those of you who’ve asked how it went… it went well for those who haven’t asked)
- a really cool quiz (I cannot say any more at this time)
Aren’t you happy that you’re a reader of this never-a-dull-moment blog? Well even if you’re an unhappy reader, please know that I’m grateful for you. Thanks.
my first ever
I know what you’re thinking: That is the most massive photograph that has e’er been posted on this blog. You’re right. I didn’t want it to be all pixel-y, and this was the only way I could do it. This is a very serious post and I wanted it to be perfect.
Thursday, January 25, 2007 will mark a milestone in my young life: I’m going to be sized up for my first ever bra!
I really hope I’m able to fit in a Patagonia bra, because they are obviously the coolest ones that we sell at REI.
Just kidding. The truth of the matter is that I’ll be interviewed for my first ever full-time job! As it is right now, I work anywhere from 25 to 40 hours a week and get paid by the hour. Tomorrow I’ll sit down and try and sell myself into a position that would guarantee me 40 hours a week, as well as improved benefits and I’m sure some other bells and whistles.
So why’d I open with a giant picture of a bra and a taboo statement about my getting one? Well that’s because the specific position that I’m applying for is none other than full-time women’s wear. That’s right; you’re boy D.O. could very well be holding it down 40 hours a week in the women’s section at REI Dallas. Now I must make it known that women’s wear was never my first choice of positions to go full-time in, but it’s the best option at this particular point in time, and I’m not scared of it. You see, there are many things I like about working in the women’s section:
- I get to see clothes that I think would be cool for girls to wear, and I’m not tempted to buy them because, as you all know, I’m not a girl! In other words, protection from materialistic lies being shouted at me from the clothing racks.
- I get to tell 30 people a day that we don’t have the North Face Denali in their size.
- The customers I help tend to be prettier when working in the women’s department.
- I’ll get to start wearing my ever-popular “Let me know if you think you might be interested in being my friend” button on my vest.
There is one downside, in my opinion, to working in the women’s section. That’s right, I’m sure you’ve guessed it (and if you haven’t, go ahead and scroll on up to see the big ol‘ green thing up there at the top) — bras! I’m not crazy about helping ladies with their bra questions. I’d like to think that they’re not crazy about asking me their questions, but sometimes I’m not too sure.
I hope my interview doesn’t start out with three hard, in-your-face, trivia questions about bras. If that’s the case then I surely won’t get the job. Hopefully I’ll be asked about skirts or capri’s… those questions I can handle.
olives, part two
Be warned: This post probably won’t be funny (which I’m sure you’re used to by now) and long. Just pretend like you’re at the Hendrick blog and that you need to set aside 20 minutes to read a single post.
Some of you may recall the post entitled “olives.” If you don’t remember, and don’t feel like clicking the link to remind yourself, suffice it to say it was a honest reflection and lamentation of my search for a local church here in Dallas. I named a particular church in that post that I will repeat here because apparently said church’s members frequently browse the web looking for mentions of their church on google’s blog search. I gathered this little gem of information when I received no less than three posts from total strangers that went to that particular church. Now, by not repeating the name of the church, I can accidentally say something that may be interpreted as negative and not get in trouble, because nobody (other than a true reader) will know what I’m talking about.
I was asked by a guy tonight what church I attend, and I was unable to answer other than saying that I’m not sure yet. He asked if I’ve been shopping around (not a phrase I’m particularly fond of in referring to churches) and I retorted back that, in line with the shopping analogy, I was shopping for something in particular and going to every store that I can imagine would possibly have it, and finding out after looking around every aisle that in fact, that store doesn’t have what I’m looking for either.
So a logical question would be, what’s on my “shopping list”… like how I’m staying on the very analogy I dislike?
Well being the critical mess that I am, my list is pretty long. However I also feel like I’m a realist, and I know that no church will ever meet all the requirements I dream up; even if I planted it myself. Some core bullet points on my shopping list are a church that is:
- Biblical (which isn’t too much to ask)
- Alive (which is biblical) and
- Actually making a difference in it’s community (also biblical, the way I read Scripture)
So that’s that. My little list that goes unsatisfied week after week.
I’ve been going to the church from the “olives” post pretty consistently for weeks now. Not because I think it fully meets any of the things on my list, but because I am so hungry for community that I’m essentially settling for a church that isn’t heretical, one that allows me to meet with Jesus even if the people sitting around me aren’t.
In a week I’ll be attending this church’s membership class. I decided tonight that the membership class for most churches is a thing where you go and listen to the staff tell you what they want you to think that their church is all about. I imagine it’s also where they tell you what they actually want the church to be about. I’m afraid, however, that it can easily take a year or more of actually attending and serving in a church to find out what it truly is about. So next week I’m going to sit through a three hour program telling me the first part of this process, and some time later I’ll decide if I want to be a part of pursuing the rest.
I’m having a very hard time right now trying to decide if I’m being too critical - like the girl who wants a boyfriend so bad but all she sees is each boy’s faults - or if I’m actually going about this the way Jesus wants me to. I know that He has very big plans for his bride, and that He wants her to look a certain way. I’m also quite confident that I don’t fully have a grasp on what that bride is supposed to look like. I’m pretty sure I think I’ve got a better idea than I really do. That right there, the doubting myself on my whole approach to this situation, is what brought me to sign up for the membership class. That and my unquenchable hunger for a group of believers who I can love and who will love me and we can all just spur each other towards Jesus.
That’s what I want so badly.
That’s what I need. The Bible says so. It is not good for man to be alone.
That’s it for now. If you read this far, God bless you you sweetheart.
Stay tuned for the continued olives saga.
well dang it…
I’ve been trying to update this thing for a while, but blogger needs to get find a stick and get on it.
You folks who’ve read this for thing for a while know I’ve got some personal qualms with adding posts sans photographs. Well I’ve attempted, numerous times, to put up a picture of my rad new keyboard that my overly gracious parents gave me for Christmas… all to no avail. That has been the reason for my lack of posts. That and the fact that I’ve still yet to have someone take me up on the ski offer. I’ve got four days in a row off coming up starting Thursday. If you don’t watch me I’ll drive up there by myself.
Anyway, I just wanted to throw an update your way so as to relieve any fears that I was missing. I’m not. I’m right here. Come see me. And while you’re on your way, thank God for making it cold outside, no matter what Heather says.
Oh, and while I’m in the process of making this, perhaps my worst post in the history of online diary for the masses, let me point out the newest link on my list over here to the right: The Chases.
the real deal: an invitation
I am super blessed in a million some-odd ways, one of which is that my family pays for me to go on a ski trip every year after Christmas. This year was no exception. Christmas came, and the next day we were off to the slopes. The difference between this year’s trip and previous trips is my longing to go back upon returning home.
See, I ordered the ski boots pictured above (Salomon XWave 10’s for you curious types), and I want to use them. I certainly could wait until next Christmas’ trip, but why? There is still snow in Colorado! So I’m in the process of planning a second ski trip for the beginning of February. Problem is, I don’t have anyone that wants to go with me. I would love it if I could find two more-than-able skiers to join me on this trip. One such skier is Mikey Mills, who is currently not thinking straight, and therefore isn’t in. To make these trips inexpensive, splitting things like gas is crucial!
So, if any of you readers of mine think you’re up to an all-out, non-stop, hand-to-the-plow ski trip in February, let me know. And if you happen to be one of the people who think you’re willing to be a part of such a trip, and you have an SUV, feel free to add that information as well. Nothing is set in stone yet, but it very well could be. I want to make this thing happen.
If you’re having doubts, just picture yourself riding up a lift next to me, and looking at a view like this:
SURPRISE!
That’s right friends, the rumors you’ve been hearing are true! I did in fact shave my beard off. As I had promised both to myself and to close friends, upon returning home from my ski trip I shaved off all my facial hair save that which resided on my upper lip. My plan was to show up to work and act as though I were very serious about my new face-do. Anyone can wear a mustache as a joke, but only true gentlemen can wear them seriously.
Well I started out my mustache debut by sleeping in and arriving to work an hour late (good way to start 2007 huh?). My managers and authorities had every reason to be mad at me when I walked in the office, all shameful and tardy. They were, however, unable to be mad at someone as gentlemanly as myself with my moustache. I used to think I was liked at work for having an awesome beard, and if that were true, then dare I say I am now loved! I’m pretty sure my fellow staff members could have cared less whether or not I was serious, they just adored the fact that I had a mustache. So much so that a campaign started to have every upstairs male staff member grow a stache for themselves. How classy would REI Dallas be if that project were successful?
I hope to keep my stache long enough to forget that I have it (which may only take about another two hours). It’s not a bad thing to have red hair on your upper lip. I think it brings people enjoyment. It also forces me to swallow any ounce of pride I may have had before I enter any given situation. Like earlier this afternoon when I walked into perhaps the fanciest store I’ve been inside of in five years…
I’m sure some of you are wondering why I didn’t get a funnier stache, like one with handlebars or a kick stand. Well I thought about it, and I decided that if it were too funny, everyone would know I was joking. As it stands right now, it is just classy enough for people to convince themselves that I mean business when it comes to the facial hair, and that I am certainly not joking around.