I'd like a second opinion...or third

I just got a call from the garage. Apparently there's nothing wrong with my car. That would be great news except I took it to the dealership over a month ago and they told me that there was probably something wrong with the spider gear in my differential. So which is it? My car makes this hideous low rumbling noise whenever I turn left and my foot is on the gas. It goes away as soon as I put the clutch in or straighten the wheel. Now, I may not know much about cars, but I know enough about machinery to know that a noise means there's a problem. My car wouldn't be making this horrible noise if there wasn't a problem, right? So why can't this guy find anything wrong with my car? And he's got a really good reputation in working with VWs. I don't understand. I just want the noise to go away.

Batter up!

I like sports. That's unusual for a girl to say (especially the same girl who totally geeked out about the LOTR movie marathon). But that's okay. I love playing softball. And volleyball. And football, ultimate frisbee, racquetball...the list goes on. Except for golf (is that really a sport?) and basketball. But I digress. In my enthusiasm about sports, I have discovered that I'm very competitive. To the point that I will sacrifice my body willingly. My friends know about that when I play racquetball. On Sunday playing volleyball, I dove for the ball on a rough sand volleyball court. And Monday night, during my softball game, I slid while running from third to home (well, actually the infield "tripped" me). So I have tomboy legs. All cut and scraped. And what's really wierd is that I kinda like it. My scrapes are like my trophies. Wierd, huh?

I think I'm in a funk today. I don't like being in a funk. It doesn't happen very often, thankfully. But it makes me very introspective. That's a scary place I don't like to go very often. And it tends to makes me feel less content. That's not so good. I think I need a hug. Or some chocolate...

Of Thunderstorms, Sunburns, and Rule Nazis

I like thunderstorms. And I like camping. But I discovered this weekend that I don't like thunderstorms while camping. Not so much. Friday night we had a thunderstorm. Luckily, it only actually rained for about 30 minutes. Thank God for quick moving storms. But I discovered it's somewhat frightening to be in a tent, and have it thundering and lightning...the kind where you know the lightning struck less than a 1/3 mile away.

I had a great weekend, though. Lots of relaxing and hanging out. My handbell choir was playing at a campground in MD. So my family and a couple other families decided to camp the weekend instead of just coming for the concert. It was pretty fun. I played volleyball, softball, swam a little, had a campfire, slept in...I tell ya, it was so tough to decide what to do next. Hmmm...do I take a nap, play some cards, or go swimming? Tough decisions. But I did what had to be done. And my face and shoulders are a lovely shade of red to prove it.

This camp is the camp of rule nazis, though. You can have day visitors, but they have to be out by 9. Well, our bell choir people that came down for the day were day visitors, but our concert didn't end till 9 and then we had to tear down and everything. How's that going to work? And my friend KB has a little girl that she took to the pool. She can wear her life vest in the pool in the 2 1/2 foot section (you know, where she can touch), but can't wear it beyond that point (like, where she might actually need it). It's bordering on ridiculous.

What qualifies some people to be "pastors? This group came and sang for the camp's church service, and the leader of the group gave a short "message". I don't know where he got some of his theology from. His stated message was on "temptations and trials", from James 5:7-16, but he was throwing in everything but the kitchen sink. Did you know that James 5:12 teaches that when we're facing trials and temptations, we shouldn't cuss. Funny. I thought that passage meant swearing an oath, not saying #@!&%. A little (and I mean little) research will tell you that. And apparently, it's a sin to say "hell" in church, even if you're talking of the place. Okay, enough of that rant...

I love my parents. Not that I didn't know that before, but it's worth repeating. Are they strange? Yes. Do they have an odd sense of humor sometimes? Yes. Are they embarassing sometimes? Yes. But I think everyone thinks that about their parents at some point. And I love them just the way they are, quirks and all. After all, where do you think I got it from? :-)

Take a bow, Mr. Shoop

I just got crank called. That's right. At work. By Mr. Shoop. He called pretending to be someone from the project we're working on in Philly. What he couldn't have known was that my boss sent out an e-mail this morning before he left, regarding that job, and the name Mr. Shoop gave me sounded like one of those names in the e-mail. So I wasn't surprised when someone called to talk to me about it, since my boss isn't here today. Then he told me he was cutting the funding for the project. Unfortunately, by that point I recognized his voice, and the game was up. But for a while he had me. And I nearly had to go change my pants.

I realized something last night. Or rather, last night confirmed something to me. I hate confrontation. I get nervous and my hands start shaking. I just don't like it. But sometimes it has to be done. Things need to get out in the open if you're ever going to have the chance to deal with them. But I also learned last night that not all confrontation is as bad as you anticipate it to be. Not that it's pleasant, but if everyone involved is loving in how they interact with each other, it's much less painful than it can be. So to those of you involved in said "confrontation", thanks.

I'm going camping this weekend. Not real camping, mind you. I'll be in a tent, but most of the other people at the campground will be in RV's. But it's still getting out, having campfires, roasting s'mores and mountain pies, swimming. I'm looking forward to it. And it means I get to leave work slightly early today. Score!

Do you know the muffin man?

One of the women in our office just got her doctorate, so she brought in celebratory muffins for everyone. Score! That's an unwritten rule in our office. If something really good happens to you (marriage, kids, new house, promotion, passing the PE, etc), you have to bring in donuts, bagels, muffins, or some combination of the three. I like that rule. And I've come to discover that an engineer's favorite word is "free". Seriously. It's like throwing crumbs to pigeons. A few crumbs with attract hundreds of birds. And so it is. A few muffins will attract every engineer in the office within 10 minutes. Word spreads quickly. Yummy.

Muscles I had forgotten I had are stopping by to say hello. I played racquetball last night with a friend of mine, for the first time in at least a couple months. I'm thankfully not as out of shape as I have been in the past, so the pain is minimal today and I'm not walking like a grandma. But I really should play more. On a good note, I held my own, and almost won. Well, I held my own anyway. I lost, 2 games to 1. But they were pretty close games. And I had a good time playing.

On a side note, Mrs. M's hair rocks. She had it braided in Africa. Not many white people have the guts to pull off a look like that, but it looks pretty good.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

I hate the heat. I hate the humidity. I hate the heat AND the humidity. Good news, though. Only 66 days till fall. Wait, that's a long time. Seriously, I'm dying. I love the snow. Can't take the heat.

Did you know it takes a church to raise a child? And here I thought it took a village. Shows how much Hillary knows. Church yesterday was better than I expected it to be, being a sermon about raising children when I have no children. Heck, I'm not even dating. But the sermon was actually more about becoming a church family, which I thought was interesting. Followed by ICON where we talked about how, practically, we love people. Lots of talk of love these days. Getting involved in other people's lives, and letting them get involved in ours. I mean really getting involved, not just the requisite "How are you?", "I'm fine, thanks, you?", "Fine". That's tough. Because I have prickles, and I know other people have prickles. And I don't have a problem seeing other people's prickles, but I do my darndest to hide mine.

I came across a quote in my devotional this morning that I thought I'd share (emphasis mine). It was interesting, and made me think.

Martin Luther once said that if you are going to sin, sin mightily. Now I'm sure he didn't mean by that that we should all go out and have a big night on the town in his honor (or maybe he did)...

The people who are worse off are those who harbor their little secret sins and think themselves better for it. They are the one's Luther was thinking about when he said this. They would be better off if their sin were more visible, more devastating, because then they would have no choice but to be humbled into facing it and getting some help. The worst blindness is to be blind and think you can see better than anybody. Such a person is blind to all of God's provision for sin and never free of the comparison game.

Marked drowsiness may occur

Good to know. Unfortunately, I didn’t know. A friend told me to take Benadryl to help with my mosquito bites. I took it right before work. Except it wasn’t till the second dose that I realized it was the Benadryl that had knocked me out. I just thought I was tired. I hate mosquitoes. But they seem to love me. My legs look like I have chicken pox. No joke.

So I’ve been away on extended weekends the past two weekends. It’s always good to catch up with friends you don’t get to see very often. Went to see A&I over the 4th of July. They just had a baby…an adorable little baby girl. I forgot how tiny newborns are. And she was two weeks old. Last weekend I went to see B&J in Massachusetts. I discovered that you can rent a car for a weekend for under $40! With my car on the fritz (whole other story), it was good money to pay for piece of mind that my transmission wouldn’t fall out on me on the way up there. Seriously. But it was a good weekend. Went hiking in a state park, swimming, a cookout. Good times. But lots of mosquito bites both weekends.

Another thing I've been thinking about. How well do we really love people? And not just people that we get along with. That's easy enough to do. What about people who are different from us, who we don't understand, or converse easily with? Last week at small group I realized that I'm not always very good at loving people who are difficult for me to love. But some people just are. My friend LZ, for example, is good at that. She's good at making people feel very comfortable and able to open up. Very non-judgmental, which, I fear, is how I come across sometimes. Thankfully, though, God's not finished with me yet. I'm still a work in progress.