much ado about some things

news.

2009-09-14T17:56:00.003-04:00

well, i haven't posted in over a year, but i figure this is as good of a reason as any and, frankly, i just need to shout about it!

my "saabwatch" 1992 yellow saab 900 convertible is FOR SALE RIGHT DOWN THE BLOCK!!!

shoot.

in honor of the end of the writers' strike...

2008-02-13T19:45:00.003-05:00

... and the return of decent tv!

one of my favorite scenes from 'the office' to date. simply brilliant. thanks writers!!!

Ryan: What I really want, honestly, Michael is for you to know it so that you can communicate it to the people here, to your clients, to whomever.
Michael: Oh okay.
Ryan: What?
Michael: It's whoever, not whomever.
Ryan: It's whomever.
Michael: No, whomever is never actually right.
Jim: Well, sometimes it's right.
Creed: Michael is right. It's a made up word used to trick students-
Andy: No. Actually, whomever is the formal version of the word--
Oscar: Obviously it's a real word- but I don't know when to use it correctly.
Michael: [to camera] Not a native speaker.
Kevin: I know what's right. But I'm not gonna say. Because you're all jerks who didn't come see my band last night.
Ryan: Do you really know which one is correct?
Kevin: I don't know.
Pam: It's whom when it's the object of the sentence and who when as the subject.
Phyllis: That sounds right.
Michael: Well it sounds right but is it?
Stanley: How did Ryan use it, as an object?
Ryan: As an object.
Kelly: Ryan used me as an object.
Oscar: Is he right about that--
Pam: How did he use it again?
Toby: It was, Ryan wanted Michael, the subject, to explain the computer system, the object…
Michael: Thank you!
Toby: ...to whomever, meaning us, the indirect object. Which is the, the correct usage of the word.
Michael: No one, uh asked you anything ever so whomever's name is Toby, why don't you take a letter opener and stick it in your skull?

sometimes...

2007-10-19T14:05:00.000-04:00

... i'm just so embarrassed to be a Christian.

just got back from one of the worst road trips of my life... the subject for another post perhaps... but on our way, my friend jess and i had stopped for a quick dinner at culvers. we were pulling out of our parking spot and the following bumper stickers decorating the car in front of us came into view...

#1 "Killing Terrorists is Easy and Fun"

#2 "Nuke Iran"

#3

wait for it

"Jesus is Lord"

you know what. enough said.

weddings

2007-03-15T11:13:00.000-04:00

i may quite possibly be the only bride in the world who is not really looking forward to her wedding day. there is so much about weddings that is just not 'me' and it turns out that trying to make a wedding more 'me' is almost entirely impossible. here's 'me' ...

doesn't like to wear dresses
doesn't like to be the center of attention
doesn't like having her picture taken
doesn't like people staring at her
doesn't like to show her emotions in public
doesn't like fancy formal restaurants
doesn't like cloth napkins
doesn't like it when food goes to waste
doesn't like cake

this is supposed to be the greatest day of my life? i'm looking forward to july 21. :) oh, and the day that we get to register for gifts. and the showers. and making invitations. and lots of other things surrounding the wedding, really. just not the actual event.

unless maybe there would be some way to have the wedding without me in it? i'll wear jeans and eat ice cream and be the person behind the camera instead of in front of it. maybe i could make a cardboard cutout of myself... hmmm...

dilemma

2007-02-01T17:19:00.000-05:00

so i'm getting married on july 20. and this is really cool because it's exactly 6 months after josh proposed to me. and i'm really excited because things are falling into place nicely and we've gotten a lot of the planning out of the way. plus, hello, getting married is awesome. but then i opened my yahoo! today and saw that j.k. rowling has announced the release date of the new (and final) installment of the harry potter series. on the day after my wedding. sooo. now i need to make the ultimate choice...

get married?

or wait in line at barnes and noble for my copy?

hmmmm...

the new american dream

2007-01-10T21:51:00.000-05:00

so... [ashamed] watching 'deal or no deal' right now and anita was just told by her sister not to take the banker's offer of $350,000 because there is still a chance that her case holds the million and... QUOTE... "this is [her] dream."

i laughed for a second about how earnest her sister's plea was and how anita solemnly agreed with her. and i actually said out loud, "oh geez i'm sure it's been her 'dream' to go on a game show and win a million dollars for doing absolutely nothing..." but then it occurred to me... that kind of IS the new american dream isn't it?

it's not so much 'pick yourself up by your own bootstraps and EARN a bunch of money for working hard.' now it's much more like 'go on a stupid game show and act like you're using all of your God given intelligence to strategically tell a tall leggy blonde woman to open a briefcase with a giant number on it and show you how much money is inside so that maybe you can have it.'

i bet most of these gameshow contestants also take a vacation after thier appearance to recover from all that hard labor.

yay america!

i just can't take it anymore

2006-08-17T13:20:00.002-04:00

i'm sorry, but when adam stout, respected connoisseur of all things rock 'n roll decides that the subject of the following post was worth mentioning as one of the highlights of his lollapalooza weekend... i just couldn't hold it in any longer...

*disclaimer: i love my boyfriend and highly respect his musical taste.

something i don't understand:
nickel creek fans

not because i don't really enjoy nickel creek as a band. that's beside the point. what i don't understand is why nickel creek fans literally lose their composure over the group's cover of britney spears' "toxic." like it's just the absolute most hilarious, creative, spunky, imaginative thing a band could possibly do.

here's why i don't understand it:
bands do this all. the. time.

indie rock artists love nothing more than to thrill their fans by playing pretentious covers of famous pop songs. ryan adams covers oasis' "wonderwall." ben kweller covers "ice ice baby." snow patrol has been known to play beyonce's "crazy in love" from time to time. and i've even heard glen hansard, lead singer of the frames, play an acoustic cover of justin timberlake's "cry me a river" on public radio.

but the way nickel creek fans freak out about "toxic" makes me think that nickel creek fans:
either... are so blinded by their love for nickel creek that they don't listen to any other music. or... don't really like nickel creek's music that much.

case in point:
i overheard not a few nickel creek fans at lollapalooza murmuring things like, "do you think they'll play it? i hope they play "toxic" it's sooooo funny," as they made their way excitedly over to the stage before the set.

don't stress girls... i thought to myself... as i believe they've been "spontaneously" playing "toxic" at every concert of theirs for over a year now, it doesn't look like you have anything to worry about. if you scream hard enough they'll probably put it on their next album.

it's a little bit funny...

2006-08-01T15:25:00.000-04:00

don't you think it's weird how you can go into a coffee shop and see "fair trade coffee" on the menu or in bags, but you don't see "unfair trade coffee" written in front of everything else? i mean, by offering the option of fair trade, companies are essentially admitting that the rest of their merchandise was not purchased for a fair price. yet when they hand you your latte they don't say, "here's your iced triple grande nonfat latte courtesy of a small indonesian family working their butts off living on pennies a day in a hut on the other side of the world so our company could make an 80% profit on this drink instead of 75%. take care now. b'bye."

i guess i kinda feel the same way in grocery stores these days as they expand their small organic foods section. it will bring a smile on my face the day they change the signs over the organic merchandise to just say "bananas" while the sign on the other side of the aisle says "bananas pumped full of nasty chemicals."

cheers.

finish the sentence...

2006-07-20T13:12:00.000-04:00

ok so i have long since been a sucker for those email forward letsgettoknoweachotherbetter survey question type thingys. (that's their official name, right?) anyway, i copied this one from my boyfriend's step-sister's blog cuz it looked like fun. i won't tag anyone, but if you want to do it, it could be a hoot. anyway, here's some more about me, in case you were interested...

1. My home is... a very cute apartment in a very cute part of town.
2. I am listening to... the mix cd that josh made me.
3. Maybe I should... start planning my curriculum for the coming school year.
4. I love it when... people surprise me.
5. My best friend... loves me no matter what.
6. I don't understand... why we can't all just get along.
7. I lost... the wooden ring i bought at an outdoor market in london a few years ago.
8. People say... more than they should, sometimes.
9. The meaning of my blog name is... twofold. one, it's from my favorite shakespeare play and major motion picture starring the incomparable kenneth branaugh. two, the disclaimer allows me to "indulge selfishly, but sensibly" in these kinds of things. :)
10. Love is... God.
11. Right now, somewhere, someone is... eating chocolate for the first time.
12. I will always... own a saab.
13. Once upon a time... I wondered if there was a boy out there who think i was beautiful.
14. I never want to... live in ohio.
15. My personal motto is... mind over matter.
16. When I wake up in the morning... i go to the bathroom?
17. I get annoyed when... people are passive aggressive.
18. People always... ask me if i need help in best buy as if i haven't been in that store at least once every other week for the last 10 years of my life.
19. I sing... harmony with sarah in the car on roadtrips.
20. Hugs are the best when... they come out of nowhere and at just the right time.
21. Today I... have frizzy hair because of the humidity.
23. Tomorrow I will... have a wine and cheese party with my friends.
24. I really want... to make a difference.

root beer barrels

2006-07-05T19:54:00.000-04:00

5 years ago, i sent out one of those obligatory mass emails alerting friends, family, and loved ones of my new address, phone, and email. i also included this story at the bottom. because i'm all about spicing up those obligatory mass emails as much as possible. i thought i would share it here on this blog. enjoy. :)

----------------

yesterday, the 4th, my favorite holiday, i was at the cascade parade lamenting the fact that the people who throw the candy from the floats only throw it to people under the age of 8. why, i wonder? because if anything, i feel my mature tastebuds can appreciate the wonder that is tootsie roll drool much more than your average 5-year-old can...but i digress. to me, the 4th of july means parades, fireworks, family, tradition and celebrating this great nation. it also means individually wrapped root beer flavored sugar in the form of a barrel tossed at me by people dressed in red, white, and blue waving from the back seats of antique ford mustangs.

i love root beer barrels. they represent all that is comforting and sweet about life on this planet. all i wanted from that parade was one barrel...not a lot to ask... or so i thought. after countless ymca sports leagues and clowns on silly bikes passed me by, i began to realize that the odds were stacked against me. not only were the four-year olds in front of me hogging all the airborne goodies, but the only treats i observed being heaved from the floats in front of me were tootsie rolls and the occasional salt water taffy. i began to resign myself to a morning of shattered hopes and dreams as it appeared that no root beer flavored morsels were in the parade precipitation forcast... then... just as i finished complaining to my mother and sister about my obvious misfortune... a lone piece of wrapped candy came flying out of the sky, just out of child's reach and landed right at my feet... i looked down and there, in all its splendor and glory was a perfectly shaped and undamaged root beer barrel. i picked it up with tears in my eyes and once again my faith in all things pure and sacred was restored.

the moral of the story is: ask and ye shall receive... well, if you asking for root beer barrels at least.

the end :)

sharp things elevate my blood pressure

2006-06-30T11:00:00.000-04:00

so, i watch the food network a lot. like, an insane amount. like, wednesday every show from michael chiarello to rachael ray was a repeat and i was seriously disappointed. "[pouting at the tv screen] aw man i've seen this one, too! this is the one where giada pours the pasta water all over her leafy green salad! gross!"

here's the thing, though. i don't cook. up until last night, i didn't even have salt or pepper in my kitchen. it's not that i don't want to cook. or that i don't think i could actually be decent at it or anything. it's just that being a dutch calvinist in west michigan means you have to be married in order to stock a kitchen with all the necessary supplies. i mean, my highest purchasing priority as a single college-graduate was certainly not a kitchenaid mixer. many times my roommates and i thought about throwing ourselves a big housewarming party and simply putting on the invitation "sara and sarah are registered at target and bed bath & beyond. thanks." seriously, un-married people need knives too.

which brings me to the real reason i started this post. i hate knives. i hate pretty much anything with a blade, actually. and don't even get me started on circular power saws. nope. my heart beats faster just thinking about them. [shivers] tell you what, rachael ray makes me nervous every. single. time. she picks up that ginormous knife of hers and starts chopping celery like a crazy person while telling some story about when she was a fountain girl at her local hojo. "[screams at tv set] look at what you're chopping rachael!! for the love!"

the first kitchen supply i'm going to register for when the time comes: 3 different sized food processors, baby. i'll leave the knife chopping to the professionals.

i just made 7 loaves of banana bread with my mom...

2006-06-26T16:37:00.000-04:00

... 2 of them have chocolate chips in them.

josh and i were watching a tv show the other night. it was about the process that movies go through to become formatted for television. they showed examples of how much of a movie gets lost when it gets cut from widescreen to full screen. it's quite disturbing, actually. and i agree with the host who said that it completely perverts the director's intention. almost as if you are seeing an entirely different motion picture. think of the time and care that a director puts into each shot, and then imagine that shot chopped in half. the plot is still the same. but the art is almost entirely lost.

as a youth group leader, i've been part of a few discussions with my young people over the years regarding sex. i've read plenty of books on the topic and am always looking for new creative ways to talk to them about it. the church hasn't really done a bang up job with this discussion in the past. most of my kids say the primary reason they don't want to have sex before they're married is because of the immense guilt they would feel. not exactly the healthiest way to go about it, i don't think. instead of listing all the reasons why they shouldn't have sex before they're married, (which they've heard a thousand times before, anyway) i think we need to talk to them about the reasons sex and marriage go together. why wait? it can't just be about pregnancy, disease and guilt. why did God design sex in the first place? what is it for? why does it not only belong in a marriage, but also make sense only within a marriage relationship.

laura winer does a great job of explaining some of this mystery in her book, real sex. springboarding off of many of her ideas, i came up with an analogy that i thought might work to help explain the concept to young people.

sex before marriage is like a movie edited for content and formatted to fit onto a tv screen.

sex is the movie. God is the director. he created sex. he designed it. he took great care in creating human bodies especially for it. sex within marriage is the movie as its director intended it. a movie edited for content and formatted to fit a tv screen is a perverted version of its original. sure, the characters are the same. the plot doesn't change. and you might even derive some of the same general pleasure from watching it. but something central to the movie is and will always be missing. no, i don't usually feel "guilty" for watching movies on television. in fact, sometimes i even enjoy it. and most people who choose to have sex outside of marriage probably don't feel all that guilty about it either. and if what we see on television is any indication, they certainly seem to enjoy it. it's still sex, afterall. but in the same way that a person who loves watching movies should want to respect the artist's intention for them, people who love the Ultimate Creator should want to respect his intentions as well. a real movie can only be truly experienced in widescreen. real sex can only be truly experienced within a marriage relationship. why would we want to settle for anything less?

dave matthews and sweat

2006-06-07T12:44:00.000-04:00

my ears are ringing. one of them actually kind of hurts. i'm waiting for my laundry to dry. it's a dreary chilly day in west michigan. i have not posted on this blog since march.

i've never enjoyed being hot. when i was younger my mother would say i got 'benauwd' in the heat. benauwd is dutch for 'uncomfortable or constricted or put out.' that word along with a few others like it are the only remnants of my ancestral heritage. i'm not dutch. i'm american. anyway, i hate being hot when the occasion doesn't call for it or when i'm not prepared for it wardrobe or otherwise. i don't mind being hot when i'm at the beach in a swimsuit or running around my neighborhood in a pair of gym shorts. i hate being hot when i'm wearing a pretty outfit and i have makeup on and my hair is down and it's all getting ruined by the beads of sweat pouring down my face and back. that's when i get benauwd. there's one exception to this rule, however.

last summer sarah and i were in wisconsin in early august and it was hot. 94 degrees hot and humid and sunny. the kind of day i'd usually refuse to do anything but lie on a couch in an air conditioned room. we had tickets in the upper pavilion - the uncovered part of the alpine valley music theatre. i was wearing cropped jeans and one of those strapless smocked peasant top thingys with cherries on it. standing in the middle of thousands of other hot sweaty hippie wannabes. not complaining as i attempted to peel the denim away from my sticky summer skin. but jumping around and cheering as dave strapped the 12-string to his chest. cuz we all know what song they're about to play when dave picks up the 12-string. just like we know what song they're about to play when leroi picks up his baritone sax or dave decides to mention that steffan lessard plays bass for the dave matthews band as if we weren't already aware of the fact and screaming 'watchtower' at the top of our lungs. it's not possible to get benauwd at a dave concert. it's not possible to be much of anything at a dave concert but sublimely happy. even as you feel the sweat drench the back of your shirt or drip off the bottom of your chin.

assignment #1

2006-03-19T16:58:00.000-05:00

in an effort to make a personal connection with my creative writing students at west ottawa, i decided to try my hand at the writing assignment i've given them. it's a personal narrative.

the grading criteria are as follows:
- narrative must include at least 2 fragments and at least 2 similes or metaphors.
- narrative must show not tell.
- narrative must include honest detail and description.
- narrative must not include any grammar or verb tense errors.

see what you think...

----
Can Chip come out and play? He can’t. He’s being punished. His parents look at me like I’m an escaped convict. Chip and I are guilty of the same crime, but he’s sitting on a chair in the corner and I’m hopefully and ignorantly knocking on their front door like I do every other Saturday.

My parents practice passive aggressive punishing. Instead of grounding me or sending me to my room or making me sit in a chair in the corner, they just give me a look. You know the look. All parents give them. The look that feels like itchy wool sweaters and too tight turtlenecks. The look that makes you feel guilty for being born. Even though it’s not like being born was your idea in the first place. But still the look makes you feel responsible for something. Something bad. Well, they gave me the look already and I promptly learned my lesson and headed back over to my next-door neighbor Chip’s house to see what more mischief we could stir up on this balmy summer afternoon.

Chip’s real name is Charles, but one day he decided he wanted people to call him Chip and wouldn’t take Charles or Charlie or Chuck for an answer. Somehow he managed to convince everyone on our block. And so now his name is Chip. And that’s what we call him.

Chip and I and sometimes my younger sisters and sometimes his older sister play in the tree fort down the street. It’s not really a fort at all. It’s really just a big clump of pine trees in our neighbors’ front yard. But our neighbors are nice and they let us invade their property. So we pretend it’s our house and sweep pathways around the trees to make hallways and we ride on droopy pine branches and pretend to be cowboys or cowgirls.

Today it was just Chip and me at the tree fort. And we were finished riding tree horses and sweeping up pathways and stocking the pantry with rocks and pinecones for dinner. We were bored. And it was balmy. So we decided to go explore the tiny white boathouse on the river in our nice neighbors’ backyard. I don’t know what made us do it. We must have been feeling invincible or maybe just stupid. Sometimes I’m not sure there’s a difference. But whatever the reason, we did it. We took everything off the shelves in that tiny white boathouse and, with reckless abandon, chucked each item one by one into the water. We watched purple glass vases and green plastic tackle boxes sink slowly to the sandy river bottom while we waved goodbye to old wooden oars floating downstream in the current. Splash, dunk, plunk. With every toss, like little swimming pool cannonballs, the water jumped up and licked our shins. We were five-year-old masters of the universe and other people’s fishing equipment.

Until our nice neighbor who doesn’t seem so nice when he’s leading you down the middle of the empty street like a death row inmate back to your house to face ‘the look' from your parents came in and caught us red-handed. Then we were just five-year-olds again. Five-year-old criminals with red hands and wet shoes.

saabwatch 2006

2006-01-17T14:08:00.000-05:00

the story goes like this...

my parents flew to LA to retrieve the ford focus, which up until now had belonged to my sister kate. they spent a mere 6 hours in LA before they began their long cross-country drive back to GR. during that 6 hours, while cruising together down a busy LA thoroughfare, they all spotted the saab. after a brief car chase in which kate swerved in and out of traffic to try to catch up, ALL 3 OF THEM stuck out their cameras and took a picture for me. here is my favorite one. the first entry in saabwatch 2006. how it warmed my heart to receive it.

los angeles, CA 1-13-2006

you are invited...

2005-12-14T15:41:00.000-05:00

when i was in grade school and all my friends were trying to start baby-sitters clubs a la ann m. martin in their neighborhoods, i was trying desperately to start a children's birthday party planning club. i was dead serious about it too. i love planning parties. i always have. one of my favorite parts of party planning is designing the invitations. i've been looking through old files on my work computer getting ready to clean it out when i leave at the end of this month. i found this invitation i created for my sister's high school graduation open house. it made me laugh. cuz i'm just so witty.

Vanilla Ice: Sup bro, did you hear about Kate DeKoster’s graduation?

MC Hammer: No man, she actually finished high school!?!

Vanilla Ice: Yeah check it, and they’re having an open house to celebrate!

MC Hammer: Dude that’s tight. Are we invited?

Vanilla Ice: Naw man. . . Psych! Of course we are.

MC Hammer: When is it?

Vanilla Ice: Friday, June 1. From 6:00pm to 9:00pm.

MC Hammer: Yo how far is the drive though? Is it at her parents’ house?

Vanilla Ice: Yeah, but it’s a’ight. It’s not as far as you think. I’ve got directions on this piece of paper.

MC Hammer: Yo sweetness. Hey, isn’t June 1 Kate’s birthday?

Vanilla Ice: Dude, yeah, but keep that on the DL. There’s going to be a fly party after 9:00 for all of Kate’s friends. They’re having music, and dancing, and a big bonfire. . .

MC Hammer: You can’t touch that!

Vanilla Ice: Aw yeah, it’s cool as ice baby!

KATE DEKOSTER’S OPEN HOUSE / BIRTHDAY PARTY.

EVERYONE WHO’S ANYONE WILL BE THERE.

so...

2005-12-08T18:22:00.000-05:00

... those giant blow up holiday-themed lawn ornaments... here to stay or passing fad?

candy canes and camera phones

2005-11-26T14:21:00.000-05:00

most people who know me know about my obsession with holiday-specific treats. cadbury cream eggs at easter... shamrock shakes for st. patricks day...

and for Christmas... there is nothing i love quite so much as a candy cane. my sister, kate, shares this love with me and we have instituted some very specific rules about our candy cane consumption. we may not consume out first candy cane until the day after thanksgiving and we must stop consuming candy canes on the day after new years. needless to say, the day after thanksgiving is highly anticipated.

here is the cellular converstation that kate and i had yesterday regarding our favorite holiday tradition...

Kate:

1 down... 11 to go. until the next box. :)

Me:

Word.

Kate:

To yo motha.

Me:

Mmm hmmmmm

Kate:

Fo shizzle

Me:
You win.

Kate:
Thats how we do it in the 90210 ;)

Me:

Wait. maybe i win? mint m&ms. holla.

Kate:

You totally win.

Me:
Yessssssssss.

Kate: (some time later...)

I just couldn't stop.

happy thanksgiving

2005-11-24T12:38:00.000-05:00

today i am thankful for my family. for the time we can spend together. for the support we offer to each other. for the traditions and fun times we share with each other. and i pray for the people in this world who feel alienated from their family. or have simply grown distant or estranged. or who are mourning the loss of a member of their family that they loved dearly.

today i am thankful for my friends. for the friends who listen to me. who support me. who give me hugs. who give me kisses. who make me laugh. who make me cry. who i could not live without for even one day. and i pray for the people in this world who are not surrounded and enveloped by friendship. who feel loneliness and isolation. who need someone to share their life with.

today i am thankful for warm houses, good food, hot coffee, soft pillows, cute clothes, a car that runs, and indoor plumbing. i am thankful for creativity, beauty, uniqueness and truth. i am thankful for music and concerts and iTunes. i am thankful for education, for scholars and professors and knowledge. i am thankful for people, for the people i pass on the street to the people i shake hands with and give hugs to at church. i am thankful for jane austin and jj abrams. i am thankful for the internet and NPR and the BBC and cable television. i am thankful for words, for voices, for speech. i am thankful for life. and love. and happiness. i am thankful for all of the amazing things that God has blessed me with today and yesterday and everyday.

and i'm thankful for YOU. for reading this. happy thanksgiving.

sara hates...

2005-11-16T12:04:00.000-05:00

it has begun. winter weather. i hate it. i hate it so much that it makes me want to do a desperate outrage to myself. like run my car into oncoming traffic. stick sharpened pencils into my eyeballs. or listen to james taylor sing "shower theeee people" on repeat for 72 hours. i hate it.

here are some other things that google says i hate.

sara hates untidiness and lack of organization.
sara hates men on drugs.
sara hates lawsuits.
sara hates other cats, and all the cats in the neighborhood are afraid of her.
sara hates that bar because every time she goes there she has to re-introduce herself to the same 12 people.
sara hates triathlons (and misses mom).
sara hates shoes and heating vents.
sara hates kiss-asses.
sara hates the thought of going to the country.
and...
(this was on page 10 of my search, i swear)
SARA HATES THE SNOW.

word. google. word.

sara needs...

2005-11-09T11:38:00.000-05:00

sara schipper just posted a funny thing on her blog. since we have the same name, all the same things are true for me. so there's no point in me repeating them here. but go have a look. then try your own name. it's good times.

boo.

2005-10-31T09:56:00.000-05:00

in the spirit of halloween candy and... bad comedy i've decided to post some awesomely bad laffy taffy non jokes. my youth group girls and i had some good laughs over these last night.

Courtney P. Sand Springs, OK
Q. Why don't some people like ice in their water?
A. Because it waters it down.

"not a joke."

Michelle W. Stockholm, CA
Q. Why does the bulldog have a flat nose?
A. Because he parked cars.

"notajoke. and huh?"

Adam S. Dunn Loring, VA
Q. What flies and helps people?
A. A helidoctor.

"(sigh) ok that is kind of a joke. but a bad one."

Kim B. Utica, NY
Q. What do you call people trying to cross a busy street in LA?
A. The Los Angeles Dodgers

"not. a. joooke."

and finally... i swear this was taken from an actual laffy taffy.

Erin M. Hartford, CT
Q. Mom: Did you sweep behind the door?
A. Daughter: Yes, I swept everything behind the door!

"seriously. what?"

books: check 'em out.... or... you know... don't.

2005-10-27T09:23:00.000-04:00

something i've been thinking about lately. . .

what's the big deal about books? why has our culture elevated books as a superior form of communication? why is it so imperative that we nurture a lifelong love of reading in our nation's youth? what is so terrible about not really liking to read books?

Iliteracy in the US and around the world is a problem. there is absolutely no question about that and therefore i won't bother to discuss it. people should be able to read. but why are so many people up in arms about this apparent problem of Aliteracy? Aliteracy, for those who aren't familiar with the term, is having the ability to read, but choosing not to. it seems to me that our culture demonizes Aliteracy and the people who 'suffer' from it. Aliterate people are looked down on as less cultured or deficient because their first instinct when they have some spare time is not to pick up a novel. for example, a textbook that i'm reading for one of my classes discusses the idea of SSR. sustained silent reading. the textbook suggests some ways to deal with 'those children who simply refuse to read.' it suggests just letting them 'sleep' and assumes that eventually, when they see how much all the other kids are enjoying it, they'll realize that they love reading too. what a crock of s*#t? first of all, why must we assume that a child who does not like to read is broken? or... tired for that matter? perhaps this child just likes to receive information in other forms and through other mediums. perhaps during SSR said child should be allowed to listen to music or read a comic book. i could be wrong about this, but isn't the purpose of reading to enrich our lives and teach us new things about new people and the world around us? why is it that we believe reading books is the only real way to accomplish this?

i type this diatribe as someone who could be thought of as [gasp] Aliterate. i've got the disease, people. don't come too close or you might catch it. when i have some spare time, my first instinct is almost never to pick up a book. in fact, my first instinct when i have some spare time is usually to [shudder] listen to my favorite rock music cd. shhh. don't tell the first lady.

now, don't get me wrong. i like books. i like novels and short stories and poems. i like reading. i like literature. i'm going to be an English teacher, for crying out loud. i think that all people have the ability to, at the very least, appreciate books and probably even enjoy reading them. but i also think that all people have the right to choose how they spend their time and how they receive information. and so i do not think literate people who choose not to read are stupid or ignorant or lame. perhaps instead of pouring resources into fighting Aliteracy, we ought to be striving to promote multiple literacies. if a kid likes to watch tv, let's teach him how to do it properly. certainly all forms of communication--written or otherwise--have the ability to enrich our lives and teach us new things.

literary terms

2005-10-21T13:02:00.000-04:00

. . .

vil-la-nelle
n.

a 19-line poem of fixed form consisting of 5 tercets and a final quatrain on 2 rhymes, with the first and third lines of the first tercet repeated alternately as a refrain closing the succeeding stanzas and joined as the final couplet of the quatrain.

. . .

the huh?

saabwatch 2005

2005-10-17T12:01:00.000-04:00

10/15/05 EGR middle school.

not the greatest pic ever. but i had coffee in one hand and my camera phone in the other trying to drive through this narrow little lot. it's amazing i didn't hit anyone... or anything.

go in peace

2005-10-17T09:18:00.000-04:00

the benediction has long been my favorite part of any worship service. it does not take much for a benediction to bring tears to my eyes. the former pastor at my church, Scott Hoezee, gave a wonderful sermon about benedictions a few years ago. if you have time, read it. in fact, read as many of his sermons as you can. he's a wonderful preacher. and dearly missed at Calvin CRC. here is the benediction Reverend Hoezee gave our congregation every sunday:

God go before you to guide you
God go beside you to befriend you
God go beneath you to support you
God to behind you to protect you
do not be afraid
in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit
do not be afraid
go in peace
Amen

david gray

2005-10-12T14:01:00.000-04:00

for all that we struggle
for all we pretend
it don't come down to nothing
except love in the end
and ours is a road
that is strewn with goodbyes
but as it unfolds
as it all unwinds
remember your soul is the one thing you can't compromise
take my hand
we're gonna go where we can shine

saabwatch 2005

2005-10-10T15:04:00.000-04:00

10/9/05

this might be the last sighting of the season. and right in front of my apartment! the shrewd observer will notice that both my dream car and my actual car are in this picture. like rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous.

extra! extra!

2005-09-26T14:19:00.000-04:00

this weekend i will be reuniting with all my old housemates from my senior year of college. we are calling it the elliott house reunion. because that's what we called our house that we lived in on elliott street. creative geniuses. i wanted to reflect on some old memories from our time at elliott. and i thought i would do so in a bit of a different format. a newsletter. here are some headlines you might have seen had you been friends with us between the summers of 2000 and 2001.

read all about it.

ROOMMATE'S CAR STOLEN
Early Monday morning, roommate Stephanie Vizdos's navy blue and rust Oldsmobile Cutlass was reported missing from in front of her two-story home. Despite filling out a detailed police report, the victim had little hope that the vehicle would be retrieved. With much delight, Stephanie received word the following evening that her car had been discovered discarded a few blocks down the street. The ignition had been tampered with forcing Stephanie to hotwire her own car for the remainder of the school year; however, thankfully, the 8-ball shaped "pimp knob" on the steering wheel survived the ordeal unscathed.

SURPRISE PARTY SUCCESS
Following another Calvin College Men's Varsity Basketball victory on Friday evening, spectators flocked to 822 Elliott street for what some are calling "the party of the century." Birthday celebrations for Sarah Koeze have been known to attract a substantial number of revelers in the past, but never before has there been such a diverse crowd gathered to celebrate the origin of one humble individual. Said one party-goer, "Hey man, all they had to say was one word and I was there: Koez."

FOUL ODOR FORCES ROOMMATES TO CONSIDER EVICTION
A roommate who wishes to remain anonymous for her own safety regrettably cooked fish last night on her George Foreman gill, leaving behind a stench so putrid it defies even the wildest imagination. Remaining roommates, having arrived home to the rancid smell permeating every crevice of their home, were forced to sit for hours with the windows open in the dead of a Michigan winter. After it became clear that no amount of fresh air was going to de-pongify their residence, two roommates reportedly ventured to their local Meijer shopping center to purchase Febreeze, air fresheners, and a brownie mix. Recounted one roommate, "We even bought a pack of cigarettes to smoke inside the house because we thought the smell of a rotting ashtray would have been an improvement."

SEWAGE OVERFLOWS IN BASEMENT. SAYS ONE ROOMMATE, "GROSS."
Upon venturing with her laundry basket down into the underbelly of the elliott house one morning, one roommate discovered raw sewage, including human waste, covering the concrete floor. A plumber was called in immediately to clean up the problem. Roommates have declined further comment, citing the ordeal as "...too horrifying for words to describe. There was poop in our basement. I just can't... Leave me alone, please."

pop culture confessions

2005-09-23T12:09:00.000-04:00

1. the smileys on yahoo instant messenger could keep me occupied for hours at a time.
2. my opinion regarding the state of "rightness" with the world ebbs and flows with the state of sandy and kirsten's marriage relationship on the OC.
3. i am having a love affair with the new david gray cd.
4. i refer to jj abrams by his first name in conversation. we've never been formally introduced.
5. the first page i visit every morning when reading BBC world news is the entertainment section.
6. i still feel slightly affected by brad pitt and jennifer aniston's breakup.
7. i'm thinking of subscribing to lucky: the magazine about shopping.
8. i sometimes have dreams about owning tivo.

i feel better now.

cool

2005-09-21T11:13:00.000-04:00

bryan just gave me a pocket keychain digital camera. it's smaller than a playing card. it takes really cool low resolution pics. like these.

650 1/2 croswell ave.

2005-09-19T11:32:00.000-04:00

in two weeks i will move out of the apartment that has been my humble abode for the past two years. it has served me well. there are things i will miss. and there are things i will most assuredly not miss. here are some of them, in no particular order.

i will miss never being more than ten yards away from my two favorite things in life: coffee and ice cream. i will not miss never being more than ten yards away from a jackhammer, bulldozer, concrete splitter, or some other instrument of the eternal construction going on in gas light village. i will miss being able to run around the lake without having to take my car keys with me. i will not miss shoveling the three-foot snow drifts that collect on my staircase. i will miss the stained glass windows in my living room, the brick facade on my kitchen wall, my giant walk-in closet, and the hobbit hole where i can keep all my junk. i will not miss my broken stove, the fish smell from the restaurant trash receptacle, the eternal humming of the industrial strength fan on the roof while i'm trying to watch a dvd, or waking up at 6:00am in the winter to move my car when the snow plows come. i will miss my cute little mailbox, the cute red-haired british man who owns the soccer store next door, and walking past the cute little children eating ice cream at jersey junction. i will not miss lugging my laundry home to my parents' house or my trash around the block to starbucks' dumpster. i will miss being part of a really cool neighborhood. i will not miss searching in vein for a parking spot when my cool neighborhood is overrun by SUV's filled with east grand rapids high school football fans. i will miss the privacy of living in my own apartment. i will not miss being the only one responsible for cleaning my bathroom.

wherefore art thou

2005-09-16T15:03:00.000-04:00

the other day while i was watching the baz luhrmann version of william shakespeare's romeo and juliet the strangest thing happened. it was towards the end of the infamous balcony scene. the tragic couple were saying their "goodnight, goodnight, a thousand times goodnights." they had made plans to get married. juliet promises to send her nurse at 9 o'clock the next morning to get the details. and romeo responds wistfully, almost to himself, "so thrive my soul." and as soon as those words came out of his mouth i had this completely involuntary reaction and tears came streaming down my face. it was like someone had flipped a switch. words were spoke. tears fell. i wasn't having a personal problem. i wasn't sad or depressed, nor was i overjoyed. i was just moved. by the beauty of the language.

and i remembered why i wanted to be an English teacher in the first place.

tgif.

2005-09-09T15:28:00.000-04:00

celebration on the grand is tonight. it is a celebration. on the grand river. celebration on the grand always makes me feel better about the state of the world. there's plenty to feel bad about right now regarding the state of the world. and a little party in downtown grand rapids isn't really going to change that. but still, there's something about seeing thousands of different kinds of people converging on the same small grassy knoll, eating plates of greasy elephant ears, dancing together to the music of some quasi-talented local band, celebrating the same thing at the same time and not trying to kill each other that's quite refreshing. plus fireworks are cool.

first day of school... again, some more

2005-09-07T09:13:00.000-04:00

a request for all who are reading this blog right now.

would you please, for me, write a sentence which has as its main verb the verb to pursue in the present perfect tense, the passive voice, the indicative mood, second person, singular number.

oh, and underline the full verb please.

great. thanks!

--------

if any of you are actually able to do this i'll eat a bee. and hate you forever. or perhaps dress you up in my clothes and have you take the english department screening exam for me. in two weeks!

it would also be helpful for you to know what an elliptical clause is, the difference between the colon, dash, hyphen, brackets and parentheses and when to use them, how to identify trochaic dimeter and how to spell every word in the english language.

--------

what really baffles me is how i've managed to pass 13 years of formal education in the united states, earn a college degree in english, acquire a job as a professional writer and all without retaining a single ounce of the aforementioned information.

but, here's the thing. i am required to know this information in order to become an english teacher. only english teachers need to know what a gerund is. they need to know so that they can teach it to their students, most of whom will forget it immediately and some of whom will retain it and go on to become english teachers themselves. it's a cycle. and i've suddenly found myself right in the middle of it.

--------

i must confess, however, that i secretly want to be one of those people who can diagram a compound complex sentence with two adverbial clauses and a dangling participle like nobody's business. i'm just not sure if i can become one of those people by next saturday morning at 9:00am.

saabwatch 2005

2005-09-01T13:31:00.000-04:00

d&w gaslight village

my calling.

2005-08-31T16:15:00.000-04:00

frederick buechner says that people find their calling where their deepest joys meet the world's deepest needs.

the world's needs are easy to see. it only takes... once mouse click to the bbc webpage. one international flight. one conversation with sara nelson... and i can see. the world needs clean water and food and shelter and education and good doctors and lots of medicine. the world needs compassion and concern and for people to just shut up and listen. the world needs less ignorance and pride and more humility and awareness. the world needs less snoop dogg and more kanye. the world needs truth. peace. love.

the world needs Jesus. but not so much in a gotellitonthemountain with a megaphone or a felt story board kind of way. more in a dountoothers kind of way.

sometimes i feel stressed about this. here i am. fully aware of what the world needs. a privileged white american with money and resources. but this problem. i don't really want to go to africa and give people clean water. or perhaps this. i would not find my deepest joy living in the middle of nowhere with only large insects and things to keep me company. but what then to do with this burden on my shoulders. the world has needs. can i meet them by being a high school english teacher in suburban america?

then i turn on mtv. and i watch this show called my super sweet 16. and there i run headfirst into my calling. because watching 15-year-old girls wearing $600 shoes whine for a half hour about how loaded and pretty and spoiled they are and how jealous i should be of them makes me realize something very important.

rich white kids need Jesus too.

aaah irony.

2005-08-05T13:26:00.000-04:00

words of hope - a small private non-profit conservative reformed Christian organization - has a billboard on its property. the advertisement on the billboard changes quite frequently. we enjoy watching the workers paste new pictures up there. this is what they put up today. it's a naked man. and not only that. it's a naked man evolving from a monkey. heh.

*update: apparently the sign has been protested by the powers that be at WOH. they have until wednesday to change it. or what? that's what i'm wondering. guess we'll have to wait and see....

saabwatch 2005

2005-07-28T09:04:00.000-04:00

on plymouth on my way to work!

pet sounds.

2005-07-27T14:39:00.000-04:00

a story about my family history with cats.

one morning, when i was in 5th grade, my friends and i were out on the playground waiting for the bell to ring so we could go inside and start our school day. tucked away in some bushes we found two small kittens all alone. one of them ran away when we came near. but the smaller one allowed us to pick him up. it was love at first sight. my teacher let me keep him in a box next to my desk all morning. since my mom was also a teacher at my school, she received news that i had found a new friend and was intent on keeping him. somehow, we managed to convince my dad to give it a try. since the kitty was bright orange, we named him pun'kin. our first real dekoster family pet. well, pun'kin, having been raised in the wilds of the ada christian school parking lot, wasn't an easy kitten to train. in fact, he was downright awful. he was constantly trying to escape outside. (i remember using american cheese slices to lure him out of hiding under the deck on numerous occasions.) and he appeared to have no intentions of using a litter box whatsoever. i don't remember exactly how long we kept him, but eventually, my parents were forced to take him to the proverbial "farm with lots of space for him to run and play." and we were devastated.

after some time had gone by, my sisters and i decided to have a go begging my parents to try another kitty. this one would be from a pet store and so hopefully would not cause as much trouble. we convinced them using a skit (we we were prone to do) involving some kind of song and dance routine with words we wrote ourselves about how much we would love and care for this new addition to our family. somehow, again, they were convinced. at the pet store the next day, we picked out a small calico kitten. and, quite unoriginally, named him cali. he was great. good personality. used his litter box like a champ. everything you could ask for. now, considering how difficult he was to convince in the first place, you can imagine our surprise when, a few months later, my DAD informed us all that he was afraid cali was getting lonely and thought he might appreciate a companion. revealing himself as the great softy we all knew he was, my dad drove us to the pet store to get ANOTHER kitty. the store actually had one left from the same litter that cali came from. so we took him home and named him snickers. we had no idea then that this would turn out to be one of the worst mistakes we would ever make.

cats are very territorial. and cali had grown quite accustomed to his new habitat. he wasn't keen on sharing it with anyone else, especially his bratty younger brother. man, these cats would FIGHT! i mean we'd be sitting at the dinner table and they'd be tearing up the family room downstairs screetching and hissing to the point that we became fearful for not only their lives, but ours as well. the pet store owner assured us that this would stop, and sure enough, they eventually came to respect each other. when cali and snickers stopped fighting, we assumed this meant that had become friends. but it would probably be more accurate to say that they had become "partners in crime."

before i continue this story let me just say that cali and snickers were extremely well-behaved for our family. they never bit or scratched at us. they were very mello... when no one else was around...

the first "incident" happened at a gathering my parents had every year around christmastime. little joshie kuipers had been playing innocently in the basement when suddenly he came bounding up the stairs, extremely upset. apparently, he had approached cali to pet him and instead of a warm welcome, received a rather vicious bite on the arm. his parents, being some of our oldest family friends, were extremely understanding, but, from that time on, we tried our best to keep the cats away from strange children they did not know.

i say children because, for some reason, these cats only had a problem with young people. they respected their elders, but kids gave them the creeps. and so whenever children were around they would become very agitated. it sometimes looked as though they were formulating a plan to rid the world of these disgusting short-limbed creatures.

the second incident also occurred in the basement. our cousin paige was in town from california and was downstairs playing "house" with my two younger sisters. she remembers kneeling down to feed the cats a bowl of fake plastic peas. they weren't interested. instead, they began to follow her. after a few moments, she became concerned and asked my sister if the cats normally stalked people in this manner. no sooner had the words left her lips than cali and snickers put their plan into action. they lunged at her. cali on one leg, snickers on the other. holding on to her calves with their claws they scratched and bit her poor little legs 'til they were a bloody mess. i'm not sure how my sister managed to get them off her. but as soon as she did, my mom had no choice but to throw them in the car and drive straight to the animal hospital to have them put to sleep. my last memory of cali and snickers was their innocent little faces meowing at me from inside the van while my mom drove them away.

innocent. ha. they literally ATTACKED my cousin. at the time, though, i'm sure i felt she must have had it coming. who wants to eat fake plastic peas?

my family stayed away from cats for a long time after that. until they got a message on their machine one day from an elderly couple down the street asking if we would take their cat for them because they were going to a nursing home. how do you say no to that. this cat was quite old herself and lasted a few years before she passed away. now they have a black furry cat named neo and she's perfectly lovely. meaning, she has yet to inflict serious bodily harm upon any member of my extended family.

for adam stout...

2005-07-18T14:22:00.000-04:00

my good friend adam has requested that i send him an email containing as many details as i can remember about a road trip we took on march 9, 2002. i thought i would post them on my blog, instead.

preface: it was either adam or his equally eccentric cousin timothy that had the very brilliant idea for us to take a road trip to the most random and crappy towns in west michigan. inspired by the LIVE song of the same name, we would call our adventure the "shit town" tour. participants included myself, sarah koeze, keri zylstra, travis west, tim scholton and adam stout. none of the six of us were dating at the time although there was present some mildly ambiguous romantic history.

it was tim's idea for all of us to wear coordinating outfits. the theme we chose was "earth tones." adam also drew a fake goatee on his chin with a marker. he does not take drugs.

we drove in sarah koeze's parents' merlot-colored minivan. we left grand rapids with a map, some snacks, and a lust for adventure. heading north...

our first stop was at my family's home in cascade, mi. cascade is not a shit town. and i have no idea what we did there. we stayed only briefly. i think, just because it was on our way. they politely waited 'til after we left to discuss why i was friends with a boy who had artificial facial hair.

our second stop was in lowell. the historic district. dollar general. adam bought sponge creatures. he threw one of the plastic pill-shaped toys in a large puddle in the parking lot. we all watched it grow into a green dinosaur. we decided we needed beer. and walked to the bar down the street. i think tim was the only one who drank.

as we piled back into the minivan it started snowing, as it is prone to do in the middle of march in michigan. we were all getting hungry. we noticed on the map that the next worthwhile town we would come to was ionia. we decided to stop there for a meal. the snow started coming down harder. we debated about eating at a chinese buffet. then tim spotted a sign for an irish pub. we pulled into a parking spot and got out. but we couldn't find the entrance. we peeked around. finally, tim decided to open a dodgy looking old door and at least ask for some assistance. and this is where the trip really got interesting.

picture this. the snow is coming down in a blizzard behind us. we're all six of us upper-middle class caucasian suburbanite twenty-somethings clad in various shades of army green and camel. adam has a fake goatee. we pound open the unmarked door which does, in fact, lead to the aforementioned irish pub. an entire bar full of regulars looks up at us from their mugs of miller lite. there is a brief pause. and then. every last person in the room welcomes us in with a hearty "HEY!" and a round of applause. it was as if they'd been expecting us all along.

the bartender promptly ushered us into a side room containing an old pinball machine and two large wooden tables for us to sit around. we were informed that the only food they had to offer was burgers and fries. ravenous, we immediately ordered six plates and a round of drinks. no sooner had we removed our jackets and taken our first frothy sips when another round was delivered to our table. they had been graciously purchased for us by one of the regulars at the bar. his name was gomer. he told racy jokes.

we couldn't have been more out of place, and yet, we couldn't have felt more welcome. by the end of the afternoon we had the entire bar posing for pictures with us. and when we left, they invited us to come back and visit again soon. i'm pretty sure they meant it, too. confident that nothing else we would see on our shit town tour could top what we had just experienced, we decided to head home.

unfortunately, adam, many of the details have since faded from my mind. and i still have no idea how you were able to remove that permanent marker from your face. but thank you for encouraging this delightful stroll down memory lane. i certainly hope you enjoyed it, too.

thanks for your order!

2005-07-15T11:19:00.000-04:00

around this time of year my mailbox becomes inundated with fall fashion catalogues. i love this. i've loved looking at catalogues ever since i was little. in second grade, my best friend sharon and i would look through the giant ones you get from places like sears where you can find everything from sweaters to sofas to snow blowers. we'd take turns playing the client and the salesperson. and we'd order ourselves an entire fake life. one time her mom even caught us picking out which male model would be our husband. she, of course, had a good laugh over it and i felt embarrassed for weeks afterwards. but even now, there's something about being able to live vicariously through these publications that is so appealing to me. like having a new lifestyle delivered right to your doorstep. as i turn the pages of the anthropologie catalogue i spend a few brief moments imaging what my life would be like if i always wore velvet and lace and high-heeled shoes and lived in a huge old victorian farmhouse and entertained dinner guests with my tales of overseas adventure and wrote poetry and drank wine and read large dusty old novels for fun. perusing the latest jcrew offering i am whisked away to a world of yacht racing and polo matches and spending entire summers wearing nothing but bathing suits and flowy tunics at my beachfront cottage with no worries but what to grill for dinner and is there enough corona in the icebox.

of course i always walk a fine line between admiring and coveting what i see in these catalogues. i know it's time to put them away when my dreams of decorating my entire house with nothing but pottery barn furniture turn into feelings of inadequacy or unhappiness because i'm not constantly surrounded with what these catalogues tell me are the "finer things in life." there's nothing wrong with a little daydreaming now and then. but there's also nothing wrong with my life just the way it is. although those pleated cuffed wide-leg herringbone trousers were awfully cute...

kids, don't litter.

2005-07-13T13:45:00.000-04:00

talking with liz on our way back from meijer about how annoying it is when people throw cigarette butts out the window of their vehicles has reminded me of a story.

the story is set in east grand rapids, which is generally regarded as the "high class" part of town. it's all bmw's and mansions and polo shirts as far as the eye can see. the grass is green. the trees are tall. everyone has a boat. it's actually a very beautiful area.

one morning, quite a few years ago, i was driving to my church for some kind of youth group fundraiser. i was stopped at the intersection of lakeside and robinson road. facing me, heading in the opposite direction, was a shiny new silver convertible. an older gentlemen was driving while two teenage boys sat in the back seat. it was most likely a father and his sons. probably rushing to make their morning tee-time at the country club. the father was sipping from a bottle of water. just before the light changed, i watched him gulp down the last few drops. screw the cap back on. and toss the empty bottle onto the side of the road as he drove past me. toss. the water bottle. on. the. side. of. the. road. and this was no highway we were driving on. it was right next to someone's front yard. i practically stopped my car in the middle of the intersection, my jaw agape with surprise and disgust. i might have expected that kind of arrogance and disregard for common decency and human responsibility from the teenage boys. but the father? way to set a good example for the youngsters, dad. it honestly makes my blood boil just thinking about it.

there are plenty of reasons why i find this kind of behavior loathsome. not the least of which being the simple fact that litter is unpleasant to look at. but if this man treats his own neighborhood with such carelessness, i shudder to think how he must behave in neighborhoods adjacent where people don't drive mercedes or live in homes the size of train stations.

i have trouble looking past little things like this. thoughtless actions, however small, almost always reveal larger attitudes lurking under the surface. for the rest of that morning i wavered between feelings of righteous indignation and depression at the thought that those boys were being raised to believe that the world was their own personal garbage can. by throwing his water bottle onto the ground their dad had basically said to them, "do whatever your hearts' desire, kids. someone else can clean up the mess."

i'm sure i don't need to wax eloquent about the dangers of that particular philosophy.

10 things that are true.

2005-07-11T14:50:00.000-04:00

1. there is a small population in quito, ecuador that views me as a celebrity.
2. i am traveling to quito in a month and secretly hope someone asks for my autograph.
3. i switched majors from education to communications my junior year of college because i was certain that i didn't want to teach.
4. i am returning to school in september to get my teaching degree.
5. my grandparents are constantly telling me they hope i get married before they die.
6. i hope i get married before I die.
7. today i've spent more time watching video blogs than i have working.
8. i've only spent about 30 min watching video blogs.
9. i swore that i would never purposely watch the movie the notebook.
10. last night i watched the notebook. on purpose. and liked it.

the 4th

2005-07-04T16:43:00.000-04:00

uncle sam

2005-07-04T12:30:00.000-04:00

so here's the thing.

i love the 4th of july. it's been one of my favorite holidays since i was a little kid. when my parents used to dress my sisters and me up in matching red, white and blue outfits. when we'd decorate our bikes with streamers and ride in the parade.

i love holidays and family traditions. i love blueberry pancakes. i love parades and picnics and fireworks. i love root beer barrels and tootsie rolls and red, white and blue jello that my grandma would make in little individual cups. i love going downtown with a blanket and watching other families enjoy their own traditions. and listening to cheesy cover bands play in front of the gerald r ford museum. i love walking on the bridge just after they close it down and reuniting with all my old high school friends. i love sparklers and flags and fire trucks and men dressed up as uncle sam.

i think it's irresponsible to live in this country under the shelter and protection of the freedom that so many people have died for and not be thankful for it. george w bush did not invent america. you can be patriotic and a non-republican. you can be proud to be an american and not arrogant. yes, this country has a lot of ugly history. every country does. there are plenty of things in american history that no one should be proud of. there are plenty of things happening right now that no one should be proud of. i'm not especially proud of the reputation that the US has in the world right now. i'm not particularly proud to have a guy like john bolton representing me in the UN. but i am proud of the basic principles on which this country was founded. and i think we've come an awfully long way in the short time we've existed. i'm proud of that and, at the same time, willing to acknowledge that we still have a long way to go.

i think it's important to distinguish between the US being a great country and being the greatest country in the world. the first is unarguably true. the second is an elitist attitude that has gotten us into trouble and will ultimately get us nowhere. there are plenty of great nations in this world. i'm proud to be among them. and i hope that in the not-so-distant future, citizens of this country and its leaders will no longer give artists a valid reason to write songs like this one.

cuz america can
and america can't say no
and america does
if america says it's so
it's so
and the achor person on tv
goes "la de da de da"
- the decemberists

war of the worlds

2005-06-30T09:59:00.000-04:00

*note: if you haven't seen the movie yet and don't want to know how it ends or anything about it, stop reading now. don't say i didn't warn you.

i've been looking forward to seeing this movie since i saw the first teaser-trailer for it months ago. i'm a sucker for summer blockbusters, especially if they involve humans trying to prevent the end of the world. i have to admit, i've never read h. g. wells's novel or listened to the subsequent radio programs he made about it. so i have no idea if the movie holds true to the original story. but i don't really care. i can give you my diatribe on the futility of comparing films to the books they were based on at a later time. though i doubt you're interested.

the trailers and various other promotional materials make war of the worlds look like any other apocalypse-themed picture show. but, actually, the movie is not about aliens at all. yes, there are aliens in it and they were as impressively terrifying as only spielberg can create them. but the movie is about a family. more specifically, it's about a father. and what you are left with when the end credits start to roll is not a typical hollywood story about americans destroying the bad guys with their superior intelligence and bigass guns. what you are left with is a world where all that really matters are the people you love.

now is the part where i filter the movie through my trusty creation-fall-redemption screen. (calvin: you go girl!) i found the central theme of this movie to be distinctly Christian, though i would be surprised if that was its intention. and isn't that just the beauty of discernment. (calvin: yes! and yay!) the movie asserts that the aliens were doomed from the moment they set foot...er, creepy tentacle... on this planet. this planet wasn't made for them. it was made for us. and so, in the end, the aliens just... die. no one kills them. there's no world-wide airstrike. there isn't even really a war. they die because no one in the universe has the power to make life on this planet obsolete except the God who created it. and so we don't have to live in fear of alien invasion or asteroid collision or some other extra-worldy event destroying us. what we need to worry about is what kind of people we are and how we choose to treat the people around us.

it was a great movie.

are you kidding me?

2005-06-29T09:29:00.000-04:00

some 19-year-old kid in the UK has recently plead guilty to killing his parents before stealing their credit cards and going on a $30,000 shopping spree. he may receive a reduced sentence because psychiatrists are testifying that he has a condition called "narcissistic personality disorder." here are the symptoms of NPD.

- grandiose sense of self-importance
- preoccupied with fantasies
- believes self to be "special"
- requires excessive admiration
- has a sense of entitlement
- is interpersonally exploitative
- lacks empathy
- is often envious
- displays arrogant, haughty behavior

tom cruise recently ruffled some feathers on a televised interview with matt lauer in which he aggressively campaigned against psychiatry claiming it was nothing more than "pseudo-science." i can't say that i have a very passionate stance on this one way or another. i do think that our society is over-medicated and that mind-altering drugs probably ought to be used as a last resort in most cases. but i also believe that mental illness is a legitimate problem and that many people's lives are made better by medicines and psychiatric treatment. however, reading a story about some kid who might receive a lenient sentence on a murder charge because he has been given the official diagnosis of "a*#hole" by the mental health foundation makes me want to give tom cruise's opinions more than just a second thought.

the sky

2005-06-21T16:35:00.000-04:00

nothing.

2005-06-13T16:50:00.000-04:00

some questions i have:

- what is the strange brown liquid dripping from the walls of my apartment and where did it come from?
- is there some way i can get my teaching degree over the internet?
- why did i ever cut my hair short?
- are the white stripes really talented rock musicians or are do they just have everyone fooled by how enigmatically cool they are?
- wouldn't it be nice to have a husband who would take care of the aforementioned brown liquid for me so i don't have to deal with it because isn't that what husbands do?
- why did i start this blog in the first place?
- would it be possible to find someone who will pay me just to just exist thereby allowing me to do whatever i want with my time?
- what will the michael jackson verdict be?
- is it 5:00 yet?

kingdom come

2005-06-09T16:46:00.000-04:00

still my heart
and hold my tongue
i feel my time
my time is come
let me in
unlock the door
i never felt this way before
and the wheels just keep on turning
the drummer begins to drum
i don't know which way i'm goin'
i don't know which way i've come
hold my hand
inside your hands
i need someone
who understands
i need someone
someone who hears
for you i've waited all these years
for you i'd wait
'til kingdom come
until my day
my day is done
and say you'll come
and set me free
just say you'll wait
you'll wait for me
in your tears
and in your blood
in your fire
and in your flood
i hear you laugh
i heard you sing
i wouldn't change a single thing
and the wheels just keep on turnin'
the drummers begin to drum
i don't know which way i'm goin'
i don't know what i'll become
for you i'd wait
'til kingdom come
until my days
my days are done
say you'll come
and set me free
just say you'll wait
you'll wait for me

- coldplay. X&Y

love, baby

2005-06-06T14:15:00.000-04:00

last week thursday i attended my 30th dave matthews band concert. being a fan of any band is kind of like being in a marriage. i, sara, take you, the dave matthews band...

for better:
before these crowded streets

for worse:
everyday

for richer:
not long ago, sarah and i took the opportunity to give away, rather than sell, an extra pair of tickets to someone within our close circle of friends. in order to be fair, we held a contest. it lasted 3 weeks and included one week of sucking up, another week of daily dmb trivia, and a final persuasive speech/presentation. even though the tickets cost us about $60 each, i think we still came out ahead in the end. it's all about sharing the love...

for poorer:
10 years: 30 concert tickets averaged at $50 a piece, $30 a year fan club membership, 5 t-shirts, 4 dvds, 20+ albums, gas money, hotel rooms, posters and other paraphanalia... you can do the math. i've stopped counting.

in sickness:
back in the day before you could purchase them on the internet, there would be a delay from when tickets would go on sale for a show in chicago and when they would release them at a ticket outlet in grand rapids. well, since dave shows are known to sell out in mere minutes, we knew that if we wanted tickets, we had to go to chicago to get them. it was my freshmen year of college. i went with my friend jessica. we left at midnight. we had no idea where we were going. we just drove into the city and stopped at the first exit with any signs of life. i remember taking a caffeine pill and washing it down with a mountain dew to stay awake. everything after that is something of a blur. at one point i remember having some kind of nervous breakdown in the car while jessica stopped in a white hen pantry for directions. i think we tried to sleep in the parking lot of a dominicks grocery store. and somehow ended up in line to buy the tickets the next morning at a marshall fields. after all that, we still got seats in the lawn. d*&# lottery.

in health:
i have so many good memories surrounding this band that i could probably start a blog dedicated to only them. there was the time sarah and i went to the band's hometown of charlottesville, va to pay homage and ended up meeting boyd the violinist on the street. there was our first two shows at alpine valley, an amphitheatre at an old ski resort in themiddleofnowhere, wisconson, which the band calls "their favorite place to play." there was the time when we were so excited to be let in to the parking lot at a show in indiana and be first in line at the gates that sarah managed to exit the car, push the lock, and close the door without realizing that she had left the keys in the ignition... with the engine running! there was the first time we took our dads to a show and taught them how to spread their wings during don't drink the water and what to chant when the band played granny. there was the time when we had a birthday party for dave in the BHT dorm lobby complete with a cake and a singalong. and there was the time we finally made the requisite pilgrimage to the most beautiful venue in which a concert could ever be played, the gorge. next year will mark our ten year anniversary. "... and i'm looking forward to much more."

'til death do us part.

is it september yet?

2005-05-26T11:16:00.000-04:00

dear j j

you rock my world.

p.s. i hate you.

love
sara.

sorry, glenn

2005-05-24T11:00:00.000-04:00

concert-going is a unique hobby. most people choose where and when and for how long they will participate in their extra-curriculars. but with concert-going you go where and when and for how long pollstar tells you to. most of the time sarah and i are more than willing to make the necessary sacrifices that our hobby of choice requires. sleep deprivation, extra mileage on our vehicles, not to mention the strain on our budgets. it's all worth it in the end. but there are those rare times when this hobby can feel more like a burden than a release.

last night we had tickets to see glenn hansard, lead singer of the frames, play an acoustic set at martyr's pub in downtown chicago. there is no doubt about it, this would have been an excellent show. the frames have become on of our favorite bands over the past year and glenn's stage presence is both commanding and endearing. hearing him play acoustic versions of this band's powerful rock songs would have been a treat, indeed. would have been...

we decided not to go to the concert last night. various factors contributed to this good, albeit difficult, decision. the tickets were non-refundable, so glenn got our financial support even without our physical displays of admiration at the show. and we both got a decent night's sleep instead of the short 3 hours we would have been promised had we made the journey to the windy city.

i don't ever want to resent the things that i love. last night we just weren't feeling it. and sometimes you just have to make the call. the call to get off the highway, turn around and go back home. or, in our case, get off the highway, go to rivertown crossings mall and buy stuff on sale at the gap.

2005-05-23T13:59:00.000-04:00

LSI Financial 5-20-05

saabwatch 2005

2005-05-23T13:26:00.000-04:00

when i was in elementary school my parents bought a maroon saab 900. this was during my dad's buyandsellanewusedcareveryweek phase. we never knew what was going to be in the garage from one day to the next. but this car i fell in love with immediately. and i was hoping that unlike it's predecessors, this one would stick around.

in fifth grade our class went on a 2-day excursion to camp tall turf with our favorite teacher mr. hoo. after braving the swamp walk and haunted cabin folklore, we were rewarded on the second day by a trip up from our parents. since my parents never missed an opportunity to be involved in their children's education, they drove up bright and early. it was around the picnic table of doom that they told me of the most recent casualty of the dekoster used car lot. the saab. had been sold. but not only that. it had been replaced with the most detestable of all family vehicles. a minivan. and i didn't even get to say good-bye.

well, needless to say, i never fully recovered and i held that minivan in contempt for as long as we kept it. thankfully, my dad appreciates the value of a good used saab 900 as much as i do and we eventually came to own a couple more. one of which i would go on to drive from my 16th birthday until i graduated from college. his name was bing. may he rest in peace.

. . .

i first saw my dreamsaab in the parking lot after a whitecaps game in high school. there it was. in all its yellow convertible glory. i'd never seen its equal. turns out, there were very few of these cars even produced back in the mid-nineties. and there is only one in grand rapids. i've been stalking its owner for as long as i can remember. and now, i've decided, with the help of my trusty camera phone, to start saabwatch 2005 right here on this blog. aren't you excited? well, i am. and that's really all that matters here at saradk23.blogspot.com.

the decemberists concert

2005-05-20T11:26:00.000-04:00

how can you not be in love with a band made up of phd's with instruments that includes an accordian player and writes lyrics like three volume novels and lists this bio on their website and during their concerts gives the audience a cue to howl like they're being eaten alive by a giant whale in order to augment the climax of their epic song about a lonley mariner seeking revenge on the man who destroyed his mother's life and also don't you hate it when you go to a concert/club/bar and they write on your hand with permanant marker?

star wars episode III: a haiku

2005-05-19T03:33:00.000-04:00

we played hookie
to see wookiees and vader transformed
research is fun

practice makes better.

2005-05-18T14:19:00.000-04:00

there was a time in the not-so-distant past when i fancied myself a writer. after graduating from calvin and subsequently acquiring my first real job, i decided to invest the first fruits of my labor in a new laptop. i had planned to put this pricey asset to use by writing screenplays and articles and poems and short stories in my spare time. i had the best of intentions. but i soon learned that when you spend your entire workday staring at a computer screen, the last thing you want to do when you get home is stare at one some more. and so my lonely laptop sits submissively on my desk every day while my writing skills diminish in spite of it. [and no thanks to the style of composition i must observe at my job.]

that is part of why i started this blog. for practice. and so i could have a more formal and somewhat official place to publish my leisure writing, heretofore contained only in my yahoo mail outbox.

i realize, however, that some of my posts [while dexterously composed] might not be all that entertaining for the general public [sarah koeze] to read. and since i also fancy myself an entertainer, i would like to commit to confining the remainder of my posts this week to one sentence apiece. starting now.

(sigh)

2005-05-17T13:17:00.000-04:00

right now in michigan we are experiencing a rather long bout of what i like to call sweatshirt weather. sweatshirt weather is different from just cold weather. cold weather happens during the 9 months in michigan when the trees are bare and the sun is absent and the roads are slippery. sweatshirt weather occurs during those other 3 months. the months when it's [usually] warm. the trees are green, the pavement is dry, the sun may even be shining, but there's just a bit of chill in the air. the perfect amount of chill that only a soft hooded sweatshirt with a kangaroo pocket can counter. i love it.

sweatshirts are like comfort food for me. they make me feel home-y and cozy and content. thinking about sweatshirt weather has inspired me to make a list of other things that bring this kind of comfort to my life.

and here it is.

comfort smell: motor oil and any other kind of car grease. my dad is a mechanic/teacher of mechanics. when i was younger he would always come home from a hard days work smelling like an old car. his finger nails were eternally black and every evening he'd spend several minutes at the sink with a hefty bar of industrial strength soap trying to get them clean enough to make us dinner. i love eating at the schnitz deli on fulton because often the mechanics from the body shop across the street will come in there for lunch. they smell like my dad.

comfort music: the dave matthews band. i store this band's albums on my shelf and their music in my soul. there's so little time and so much music to listen to in the world that the DMB doesn't even get that much actual play time in my day anymore. but if there's ever been a band that could literally "cure" what ailed me it would be this one. put one of their cds on and instantly my cares melt away and a smile covers my face.

comfort food: kraft american cheese slices. individually wrapped goodness. they melt the best on a grilled cheese sandwich. they taste the best with oscar mayer bologna. they are shaped in a perfect square. they may or may not be made of real cheese.

comfort shoes: birkenstock sandals. there's nothing quite like slipping your bare feet into a pair of broken in worn out old birks at the end of a long cold [9 month] winter in michigan.

comfort movie: the princess bride. say it with me... "hello, my name is inigo montoya. you killed my father. prepare to die." movies don't really get any better than this one. it's wuvvvv, twooo wuvvv.

comfort car: saab 900. i made a promise to myself when i was in 5th grade that as soon as i was old enough to drive i would vow to only drive saabs for the rest of my natural life. they smell different and drive different and look different than any other car on the market. plus, people who own them wave to each other on the roads. it's like a club. only we'd never be so lame as to make up stickers that pronounce "it's a saab thing, you wouldn't understand." saab owners are not pretentious. they're too laid back.

comfort place: grand haven state park. playing racko inside my parents' trailer [read: portable beachfront condo.] curling up on the couch after a long day on the sunny beach. walking into town for ice cream at temptations. flying kites while the sun sets behind the pier. watching the huge boats go in and out of the channel. hoping the showers with the good water pressure are open when you need one. roasting marshmallows by the campfire at night under the stars.

. . .

wow, i've never been more depressed to be sitting in this office than i am right now. i don't even think i can go on listing things. this post is over. but rest assured i'll be spending the rest of my day dreaming about wearing a hooded sweatshirt and birkenstock sandals while sitting in my parent's trailer in grand haven state park watching the princess bride on dvd and eating a bologna and cheese sandwich next to my dad who'd just come from fixing my broke down saab.

pinot

2005-05-16T10:17:00.000-04:00

i finally saw the movie sideways on saturday night. i'll avoid going into great detail and just say. there were parts i appreciated. and there were parts that i didn't appreciate. but there was one particular scene that i think is worth noting here.

about halfway through the film two of the main characters, miles (paul giamatti) and maya (virginia madsen), sit on a porch and discuss why they love wine. both of their monologues on the subject were beautifully written and expertly performed.

listening to people articulate their passions like this is intoxicating. at first glance, one might wonder why a woman like maya would be attracted to a man like miles. this is why.

"it's a hard grape to grow, as you know. right? it's thin-skinned, temperamental, ripens early. it's not a survivor like cabernet, which can just grow anywhere and thrive even when it's neglected. no, pinot needs constant care and attention. you know? and, in fact, it can only grow in these really specific, little, tucked away corners of the world. and only the most patient and nurturing growers can do it, really. only somebody who really takes the time to understand pinot's potential can coax it into its fullest expression. then, i mean, oh its flavors, they're just the most haunting and brilliant and thrilling and subtle and... ancient on the planet."

i don't care much for wine and i certainly don't know anything about it, but after listening to miles express his admiration for pinot, i had this strange desire to sell all of my possessions and move to a vineyard in northern california. the truth is, it didn't really matter what he was talking about. these two characters could have had the same kind of conversation about almost anything: art, music, film, sports... it's not the subject, but the passion for it that infects and then becomes contagious.

maya follows the above quote with an equally beautiful elucidation of the life of a bottle of wine. how it grows and gains complexity and eventually reaches its peak before it begins its inevitable decline. she pauses briefly as miles contemplates this and then utters perhaps the most poignant and earnest statement in the entire film.

"and it tastes so f***ing good."

i think it's important for people to be able to explain and defend the things they choose to put their time and energy into. but even the most passionate expositions will almost always boil down to one undeniable declaration: it's just... good.

standard mix tape rules apply.

2005-05-12T14:39:00.000-04:00

one of my most favorite things to do in all the world is make a mix cd. in fact, i think i would be completely content if that was my only job for the rest of my life.

i remember as a kid, sitting in my room after school, making mix tapes from the radio. kids these days don't know how good they have it with the internet. back then, if we wanted to hear a new song, we couldn't just download it, we had to call our local top 40 radio station and request it. but even then there was no guarantee, and we'd have to sit and wait to see if the dj on duty would ever get around to playing it. and we waited patiently, too. i remember sitting on my bedroom floor waiting for hours. every time a song would near it's completion, i'd get my hand on the buttons, ready to hit play/record simultaneously in case my song was next. we had to work for our music. but when the sweet sounds of the song you loved finally hit the airwaves, you never regretted the hours you spent waiting for it. it saddens me that young people today don't understand the agony and resulting joy of that experience. music should never be taken for granted.

making a mix cd is a task i take very seriously. a mix cd is more than just a collection of random songs. it is an experience. it is a piece of art. and there are rules that simply must be followed.

the "golden rule" in mix cd making is this: no artist may be featured more than once on a single mix cd. there are very few exceptions to this rule. in fact, i hesitate to say that there are any exceptions whatsoever. putting multiple songs by the same artist on one cd begs the question, why not just listen to an entire cd of that artist? if the purpose of the mix cd in question is to introduce its recipient to a new artist thereby encouraging the recipient to purchase said new artist's album, then an argument could be made for including more than one song by that artist on the cd. however, i would argue that you are no longer making a mix cd then, you are making a sampler cd. those are two very different things. and even in the making of a sampler cd, certain rules should be adhered to in order to enhance the listener's enjoyment. for example, picking a few artists who's music complements each other and spacing them out evenly on the cd so that there are never multiple songs in a row by the same artist.

a mix cd should have a theme. it could be a complex theme like, music to listen to while lying comatose on the floor in a dark room. or it could be something as simple as, music for my road trip this weekend. a theme helps give the mix cd its shape and style and determines what it will communicate to its listener. i've had not a few people challenge my "golden rule" on this front. they want to allow for multiple songs by the same artist as long as those songs follow the theme of the mix cd. to those people i say, expand your horizons please. certainly with all the songs in the universe at your disposal, you can find another artist besides the counting crows who's music communicates melancholy and heartache.

i agree with john cusack's character in the movie high fidelity when he says, "you gotta start off with a bang, something to grab their attention. then you gotta take it up a notch. but then you gotta take it back down a notch, cuz you don't want to blow your wad." i like my mix cd's to follow a similar path that an artist might follow in creating an LP. you want a mix cd to ebb and flow like any other cd. so you might make a punk rock mix. and you can fill the cd with only punk rock artists. but you don't want every song to have the same amount of punk rock energy. you want to take the listener on a journey. just when they get comfortable, you want to hit them with something unexpected.

i like to finish off a mix cd in a similar way a band might finish off a concert. there's a final song that leaves the listener satisfied, but wanting more. and then there's the encore. something not entirely unrelated to the theme of the cd, but slightly different. a bonus track, if you will. perhaps a live track or a rare b-side by a popular artist. maybe a unique cover of a well-known tune. maybe even a guilty pleasure by some otherwise obnoxious pop group.

finally, there's the packaging. i take this step almost as seriously as choosing the music for the cd. if possible, give the mix cd a title. list the tracks so that the recipient knows what he/she is listening to. some people do judge a book by its cover. you want to make a good first impression so that all the time you spent selecting each song wasn't in vain.

there's much more i could say on this topic to be sure, but to reveal more would be like giving away a secret family recipe. my dad had this mix tape that we would listen to when i was growing up. it contained everything from the righteous brothers to madonna to billy joel. and yet it all somehow made sense together. the first song on side B of the tape was a one hit wonder by the band mungo jerry called "in the summertime." my dad loved that song and had been wanting a copy of it for a long time to play for us kids. one day he called in and requested it from our local oldies station. we waited and listened and eventually they not only played the song for us, they even played a recording of my dad's phone call to go along with it! man, those were the days...

2005-05-11T11:33:00.000-04:00

it was all yellow.

2005-05-09T10:00:00.000-04:00

let me tell you a story about the time gwyneth paltrow and i saw a coldplay concert in my living room.

the atmosphere was alive as we arrived at the metro for the live music event of the season. a cubs game had just let out at wrigley field. everywhere, excited people filled the streets enjoying the warmth and the extended spring daylight hours. walking into the venue we felt like movie stars at a red carpet premiere as desperate onlookers crowded around hoping to catch some of the excitement wafting off those of us lucky enough to have tickets. the show was set to begin at 7:00. maybe it was because the metro is so small that there was no possible way anyone could stand farther than 25 feet from chris martin's piano. maybe it was because there was no opening act to buffer our anticipation. maybe it was because the show started over an hour late. but the emotions in the crowd were palpable. and when queen gwyneth finally sat down in the VIP section of the balcony, we knew it was go time.

trying to contain the energy and power of a band like coldplay in a venue as small as the metro is like trying to fit a watermelon in a ziplock baggie. i was worried the whole place might just explode from the wonder of it all. because the tickets sold out in less than 60 seconds, the whole crowd was filled with people who loved coldplay enough to either make the effort to be first in line at a ticketmaster outlet or pay 500 bucks per ticket on ebay. everyone listened attentively to the new songs and went completely crazy during the more familiar tunes. chris was his usual effervescent self as he jumped around the stage and hurled the mic out into the crowd encouraging us to sing along. packed in like sardines, sweat dripping off our faces, beer spilled all over our feet. it was perfect. even chris thought so. he told us.

more on gwyneth...
i love gwyneth paltrow. and i was hoping that she would be there. just because it makes the story that much more exciting to tell. when she first sat down she just sort of set her face in her hands and gazed down at the stage, nonverbally communicating perhaps the understatement of the century, "oh there's my husband playing his piano, isn't he dreamy?" i'd hate her if i didn't think she was so cool. but, you know, we all sway our bodies to the music one beat at a time. the only difference between me and gwyneth paltrow (besides her beauty and talent and awards and cash flow and all that) is that, at the end of the show, she gets to go home with the lead singer. so. ok. she wins.

say it ain't so

2005-05-05T10:05:00.000-04:00

i have been an avid concert goer for about ten years now. it all started on a snowy day in march when my friends caravanned to kalamazoo in our broke down cars in the middle of an ice storm to see alanis morissette. it only took a couple 'you oughta knows' and some energetic dancing and hair flipping and we were officially hooked on the live music experience. in the years following and thanks to the welcome addition of grand rapids' new sports arena we managed to see most of the big names of the late nineties. bush, no doubt, smashing pumpkins, live, oasis, the verve pipe....etc. for some reason, however, despite the fact that their self-titled 'blue album' was mandatory listening for almost all of my peers at the time, we never got around to attending a weezer concert.

sarah koeze (my concert partner in crime) and i have been lamenting recently that we're starting to feel a little 'old' at concerts these days. we've become content to stand near the back of the venue and just observe the experience as it unfolds in front of us. we breathe a sigh of relief when an event starts early to adhere to city curfew regulations. we complain that our backs hurt from standing for more than 20 minutes in the same spot and we admonish enthusiastic teens who want to get up and dance instead of remaining still in their assigned seats. we start yawning before the opening band has even completed their set and we struggle to keep our eyes open on the late night road trips home. we complain about parking costs as we drive around in a green ford taurus and wonder when it was that we stopped being cool and started becoming a bit too much like soccer moms.

on the way to the concert last night i was speculating about weezer's setlist. after the 'blue album' i lost touch with most of the band's studio work and am now familiar with only their few radio singles. like the kind of fan i usually despise, i secretly hoped that they'd just play a set of greatest hits so i wouldn't feel out of the loop.

ask and ye shall receive.

the minute the giant lighted trademark 'W' fell from the ceiling and they started up with the beginning chords of 'in the garage' sarah and i felt ten years younger. we re-lived our youth as we sung along with rivers' quirky and heartfelt lyrics. we felt as if we had been suddenly and momentarily transported back to a time when we waited in line for hours to get a spot near the front of the stage. a time when we would camp out for days in the freezing cold to get tickets. a time when we would buy a t-shirt at every show we went to. a time when we watched endless crowd surfers get passed up to the security guards and too many people pass out from lack of water and oxygen in the mosh pit. a time when we would live for that moment when the band turned on the house lights and let the crowd sing out the most famous lyric. a time when we tried to make friends with anyone who looked official enough to get us backstage. a time when we not only expected but looked forward to losing our voices from screaming so loud for the encore. a time when we wouldn't complain about returning home with the scent of smoke in our hair and beer spilled on our clothes by some overly intoxicated frat boys.

a time when we were cool.

oh yeah.
all right.
feels good.
inside.

2005-05-04T13:52:00.000-04:00

grandpa dk

i love smokestacks.

2005-05-04T13:01:00.000-04:00

that is my grandpa. my dad's dad. this is a picture of him on his 90th birthday which he celebrated a little over a week ago. it was a big to-do for our family. we flew in cousins and uncles from around the country. and we had a nice family dinner at egypt valley country club.

my grandpa is a scholar. he owns about seventeen bijillion books. i know this because once he paid me to dust them all. it took me 5 days. he and my grandma have bookshelves on every wall of their home. even in the bathroom. it's quite impressive.

my grandpa is wise, funny, generous, and the most opinionated man you're likely to meet. turns out, i've acquired quite a few character traits from him. (i know what you're thinking. being opinionated is not one of them. it's not. stop laughing. ahem.) for example, we both squish our faces up the same way when we encounter something we don't like very much. he always reminds me of how, when i was about two years old, i had already begun displaying my distaste for insects. apparently, if i saw one, i would stop dead in my tracks, squish my face up and point at it and just grumble "buuuug." you really have to hear my grandpa's impression. i don't remember doing it myself, but i have a feeling he's got it right on the nose.

as it turns out, there is another extremely odd characteristic that my grandpa and i have in common. i've always had this very strange attraction to smokestacks. i'm not sure why, i just think they are very cool. gary, indiana. is like my mecca. well, oftentimes when my extended family gets together, my dad and his siblings will reminisce about family vacations my grandparents took them on when they were young. and not long ago they were chatting about this one particular trip out west. apparently, on this trip, my grandpa took rolls and rolls of pictures... of smokestacks! i couldn't even believe it. he actually made them drive out of their way to do this. loving smokestacks is part of my genetic makeup. awesome.

someday i would also like to do a cross-country photo documentary of smokestacks. i wonder how my pictures would compare to his.

daydreaming on the world wide web

2005-05-02T12:43:00.000-04:00

there are altogether too many cool things on the internet. in fact, it's almost ridiculous that anyone could be expected to be productive at all at a job where the internet is not only accessible, but a necessary tool for completing work assignments.

do you ever catch yourself in a daydream somewhere thinking about something completely random and then try to retrace your mental steps to figure out exactly how you arrived there? i do this all the time. it's fascinating to me how the brain works in that way. the internet is kind of like this. i will begin, for example, on BBCi trying to find an idea for a script and end up buying concert tickets for a new band i'd never heard of until a couple of links before.

speaking of concert tickets. i'm in possession of quite a few at the moment. just this week, sarah and i will be attending a weezer/ringside concert in chicago on wednesday evening, an aqualung show in detroit on thursday evening, and then back to chicago for the live music event of the millennium on friday when we will experience coldplay at the smallest venue in which they've ever played. those tickets, incidentally, are worth a pretty penny. actually, according to ebay they're worth about fifty thousand pretty pennies. thanks to kristina at d&w, though, we only had to pay about 3000. (still pennies. but, pretty ones.)

iris.

2005-04-28T12:14:00.000-04:00

true confession: i have a secret affinity for iTunes celebrity playlists.

there was a time not too long ago when i neglected to distinguish my personal opinions about something from the truth about something. it took me awhile to learn that something's worth was not contingent on my appreciation of it. so, for example, you may have noticed that among my list of dislikes over there to your right is the name james taylor. (it should, i suppose, say "james taylor's music" as i have no particular objection to the man himself other than the way he pronounces "theeee.") it is true that i don't much care for james taylor's repertiore. however, it is not true that i believe james taylor, for lack of better words, sucks. there is the reality that james taylor is a successful singer/songwriter revered by not a few people who's musical tastes i respect and admire. and there is the reality that i don't like james taylor. i believe if more people were willing and able to make those kinds of distinctions this world would be a much more tolerant place. not that there isn't a time and a place to conclude that something has no inherent value. but that's a subject for a different kind of post. (see mine about bees.)

some people probably scoff at celebrity playlists assuming a false sense of musical superiority. does starring in one's very own FOX sitcom qualify one to make music recommendations to the masses? sure, why not. if the distinction is made between said FOX celebrity's opinions and the quality of his respective musical selections. i mean, if russell crowe can muster up enough enthusiasm about the goo goo dolls to make me want to download one of their radio hits from 1997, then more power to him. it's cool to be able to revisit songs from your past or look twice at music you might not have given a second chance otherwise. and who knows, maybe some day luke perry's earnest appreciation of his greatest hits will reveal to me the hidden joys of listening to james taylor.

though i highly doubt it.

real ultimate power.

2005-04-26T13:51:00.000-04:00

i'm trying to justify writing a new program about ninjas. in my quest to find some usable material, i came across this website.* it's perhaps the most awesome ninja-related piece of funniness since that full-length motion picture about the big green turtles.

(raphael was always my favorite. apparently, as a ten year old, i felt i could identify with him and all his melancholy deepness. or maybe i just felt bad that he had to spend so much of the movie lying half-dead in that bathtub. don't think i didn't have the soundtrack to that movie either. i did. )

*warning: some naughty content.

2005-04-25T12:44:00.000-04:00

matthew bellamy

you're something beautiful

2005-04-25T12:30:00.000-04:00

two things are true about me. one, i attend a lot of concerts. two, i am prone to hyperbole. so, you won't be at all surprised to hear that i attended one of the most incredible concerts i've seen in my entire life on saturday evening.

the band is called MUSE. it's three members hail from a small town on the English seaside. it's lead singer/songwriter, matthew bellamy, is classically trained in piano and guitar and possesses one of the most powerful and unique voices in rock music today. they've won critical acclaim for a number of reasons, not the least of which being their breathtaking live performances.

it would be impossible for me to even begin to describe this concert experience, even with all the words in the English language at my disposal. (a gift i had taken for granted until i started writing radio programs for WOH) the light show alone was worth the price of admission. the sound these three men were able to produce with only two guitars and a drum kit defies even the wildest imagination. for most of the performance i sort of stood in awe, my mouth agape, wondering if what i was witnessing was really happening or if i'd been suddenly and momentarily transported into some kind of alternate universe where men routinely play electric guitar solos while balancing precariously on their knees and the tops of their heads. (yes, that really happened)

if you'd like a taste of what i'm describing here, go to the MUSE website and watch the video for "butterflies and hurricanes." note matthew's solo at about the three minute mark. the guy is up there on this keyboard with a coordinating light panel on the front of it playing frickin piano concertos like that scene in bill and ted's excellent adventure where beethoven composes a symphony at the music store and gets kicked out of the mall.

the whole evening culminated when, during their encore, they released these huge balloons into the audience which would pop on impact and shower the arena with red confetti. so. unbelievably. awesome.

i'm afraid i'm out of words now. if you're lucky, you'll get to see what i'm talking about someday. if i'm lucky, i'll never forget it.

2005-04-21T15:58:00.000-04:00

a picture of grass

a few random things...

2005-04-21T15:49:00.000-04:00

first, i posted that picture of grass cuz i thought this site could use a little sprucing. think of it as a virtual accessory. or something.

second, the weezer article in this month's rolling stone is insane. read it if you have the time.

third, if you've never seen (or heard of) the television show sports night, please acquaint yourself with it immediately. i am forever indebted to keri sue for revealing its magnificance to me.

fourth, i'm about to go chop off my hair and dye it a different color. this makes me feel a little anxious and also excited. i'll try to post a picture of it tomorrow.

fifth, i think this blog is becoming everything i swore it never would be. like some teenager's diary. not that it matters. raise your hand if you're even reading this right now....

see, that's what i thought.

cheers.

music is food.

2005-04-19T12:51:00.000-04:00

i've been reading a little bit about this condition called synesthesia. people who have this condition experience a phenomenon where their five senses essentially "bleed" into one another. some people taste sounds, others hear color. it's fascinating. and i was thinking about it last night while enjoying the iron & wine concert at calvin.

i often have trouble explaining to people just how much i love music. probably because i can't even really explain it to myself. at least not with words. sometimes i'll be driving in my car listening to a new cd and i'll be so overwhelmed with how wonderful it is that i want to remove it from the player and take a huge bite out of it. i want to ingest and digest it so that it will flow through my veins and sustain my life. like vegetables.

i don't think i actually have synesthesia. but i do believe i can actually smell, feel, see, and taste music. i wouldn't trade that condition for anything in the world.

on why i want to marry a rockstar:
i suppose it's a little bit like florence nightingale syndrome. there they are. positioned profoundly up on that stage. their scruffy faces awash in brightly colored lights. flaunting their fitted jeans and their unwashed unkempt hair. and they're creating something. they're creating this amazing thing that fuels my soul and gives me joy and life and energy. i'm powerless against it. it's not just some stupid criteria i have like some girls who make lists of all the qualities they want their future soulmate to possess. (plays guitar: check.) it's just that i think music is the only other thing that can occupy that deep place in my heart where my soulmate will also reside. so i guess i figure if they're going to be sharing a living space, they might as well have something in common.

quick survey

2005-04-14T13:30:00.000-04:00

should i ?

or

should i not?

cut and color my hair similarly (not quite as blonde) to the picture you see below.

hmmmmm.....

2005-04-14T13:20:00.000-04:00

kirsten's cute haircut

the bees are come.

2005-04-11T16:30:00.000-04:00

around this time of year my life changes in a very particular way. that is, my irrational fear of bees forces me to make adjustments in my daily activities. for example, i must keep one hand on the automatic window controls at all times in order to prevent the little handmaidens of satan from flying into my car while i'm paused at a stop sign. this has happened a number of times before and every time resulted in total disaster. i've learned my lesson. if you'd care to hear any of those stories, i'd be happy to recount them for you. they're quite entertaining. also entertaining is the story of the time a wasp the size of brazil got into my bedroom and perched in between my window and my blinds and my dad had to DRIVE over to my apartment and kill it for me because i was literally paralyzed with fear. no. literally. i. could. not. move. if he hadn't come over, i'd probably still be sitting there on my bedroom floor watching it right now.

whenever people hear these kinds of stories about my irrational fear they always try to talk me out of it. people. don't bother. yes, i've been stung before. yes, i know it doesn't hurt that bad. i don't have a fear of getting stung by bees. i have a fear of the ACTUAL BEE. the fact that they can sting me is just the icing on the cake. (imagine something that you are afraid of... now give it a sword.) you see, it's an irrational fear. there is no reason i could give anyone that would explain it. i understand that it's ridiculous. i understand that giving something less than 1/1000 of my size this much power over my life is completely insane. but, all that is kind of built into the definition, no? the thing is. to me, bees might as well be the size of dinosaurs. when it comes to bees: size matters not. if given the choice between two doors. one of which had seventeen escaped convicts armed with machetes behind it. the other, one bee. i'd walk into the room with the machete-wielding escaped convicts in it every time. every. time. people. this is my life.

some have suggested i seek counseling for this. you know what they do to help people get over these kinds of fears? they put you in a room with whatever it is that you're afraid of. first, they put the thing in a cage across the room from you. then, they move the cage closer. then, they open the cage. then, they take the thing out of the cage. then, they put it on your hand. if you could feel my pulse while i just typed those last six sentences, you'd think i was having a heart attack.

so, it is now about 4:30pm. and i'm already starting to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for the ascent up the stairs to my apartment. you see, bees like to hang out there. they just. chill. outside my apartment. not working. not performing any worthwhile functions. like they're waiting for me to invite them in for tea or something. dream on, bees. i try to be brave. sometimes i even give them little names. but those ba****ds can smell fear.

wish me luck.

50 years young

2005-04-09T18:00:00.000-04:00

i think you can tell a lot about people by the company they keep. great people tend to have great friends. my mom has great friends. (and you too dad, but this post is about mom cuz it's her special day :) anyway, people love my mom. it's easy to understand why.

she's silly and sassy and particular and organized and considerate and funny and passionate and and easygoing and emotional and the little things in life amuse her. she has great friends. and many of them are coming over tonight for her party. i'm excited.

incidentally, i also have great friends. and today i'm going to give the credit for that to my mom. thanks for teaching me how to be the kind of person that people want to love.

happy birthday mom!

crimson and clover

2005-04-08T13:18:00.000-04:00

i don't think i want a career.

i spent yesterday afternoon browsing a few internet job sites and listening to tommy james and the shondells on my dad's old vinyl. i'm just sort of feeling uninspired by, under qualified for and generally uninterested in most of what the job market has to offer me. i'm plagued by this feeling that i've become a sort of jack-of-all-trades, but master of none. after watching a bit of the apprentice last night, however, i think i may be selling myself a bit short. seriously... those are the best examples NBC could find of successful american business people? if that's true, i'm apparently over-qualified to be the CEO of a major corporation. who knew?

yeah
my mind's such a sweet thing
i want to do everything
what a beautiful feeling
crimson and clover
over and over

2005-04-06T10:33:00.000-04:00

kate is home from cali. i like her.

i don't trust this thing.

2005-04-05T09:05:00.000-04:00

yesterday i had a delicious post all typed out for you to read wherein i recounted the tale of the harrowing walk i took around my old stomping grounds while spending sunday at my family's home in cascade, mi. i noted memories of apple juice ice pops, tree forts and haunted houses. i may have also mentioned that i was wearing ripped jeans and listening to my ipod at a rather high volume. then i proceeded to explain something that happened to me while rounding the corner of the block. that something was three 12-year-olds who were out playing basketball calling out to me as i passed something to the affect of "hey baby...how you doin..." i articulated how their comment had made me feel self-conscious and diminished and chastised any guys who actually thought that women enjoyed being greeted in that fashion. then i expressed my outrage and general incredulousness that a 12-year old would even have the nerve to speak to a 25-year-old woman in that manner. and then i lamented for a bit about these boys and wondered who was teaching them to be MEN. [sigh] and then i tried to redeem my dad's reputation by suggesting that, while i know he enjoys being the father of three girls, i think he would have raised some kick-ass boys who would have been respectful and kind and funny and never say things like "hey baby how you doin" to girls they'd never met. and then i think i said something really cheesy about how i appreciated all the real MEN who were reading this post who have always treated me with respect. then a single tear fell down my cheek. then i pressed "publish." then it told me there was an internal error and assured me that the bloggermaintenanceworkers were working hard to fix the problem. then i believe i clenched my fists in fury and cursed said bloggermaintenanceworkers in my head. then i curled up in the fetal position under my desk and whimpered for about 5 minutes. then i vowed to never attempt posting on this blog ever again.

all in a day's work.

this is the story of my life.

2005-04-01T11:38:00.000-05:00

when i was young i was constantly plagued with insecurity. i took myself way too seriously, i was a pathological perfectionist, and more often than not i made mountains out of molehills.

all this was never more evident than when my dad took me out to play golf at the CRC rec center. ..

my dad is probably the most laid back person i've ever known. he never yells, he rarely gets angry, and usually the only thing to ever get him in any way riled up is when someone disagrees with his political views. i still remember the first time i ever heard him swear. around the 4th hole at fellowship greens was when i would usually start whining and being generally insufferable because i wasn't playing at the level of a pga tour champion. my dad, bless his heart, usually endured my temper tantrums with patience... but this one time he had simply had enough. after bearing with me for a couple of minutes, he pronounced in frustration "well you take the game so d#$% seriously!" i can honestly say i don't think i've heard him swear since.

thankfully, i've since matured out of most of these fatal personality flaws. i can, as a matter of fact, play an entire round of golf now without throwing my clubs on the ground like a petulant child. but, unfortunately, that doesn't mean that these old characteristics don't read their ugly heads from time to time.

case in point: i created this blog over a week ago and this is my first post. i can blame this on a number of things, not the least of which being the simple fact that i've had nothing interesting to say. but i think mostly it has to do with me. wanting this blog to somehow alter the state of the universe. knowing full well that it won't even make a dent.

i started this blog because of the proverbial "everbody else is doing it..." but i have to admit that i'm looking forward to keeping it. and i'd like to thank sara nelson for pressuring me to finally get over the hurdle of this first entry by threatening to kill me. or at the very least, remove the link to my blog from hers.

the end. or should i say... the beginning.

[cue inspirational elevator music]