February 10, 2010

Sounds Suspiciously Like a Journal Entry...

...but it's not!

Watched a bit of Morning Joe and then tasted a bit of the rich broth of Healing the Family Tree by Fr. Hampsch, a book that is more than quote-worthy. It's put together in a delightful Q&A format, perfect for bloggy, groggy, morning tidbits. The pure poetry of his Bible translation is affecting: don't know where Fr. Hampsch found this for Job 38:2, but it's superior to the translations I have: "Why are you using your ignorance to deny my Providence?"

Speaking of Job, I only recently learned that it's said to be the oldest book in the Bible. That is something I wouldn't have guessed without, oh, at least 30 guesses. But it's interesting that it be the first since it poses the sort of initial framework for the whole Bible: "I am God and thou art not!"
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Indecision is the handmaiden of poor decisions, and I lacklustedly drove into work despite the optional nature of it. I could've worked from home, given the avalanche of snow. Instead the commute took twice as long as usual, although I did profitably use the time by saying another rosary for the blogger Mary's father. What was cool was finding this website to gauge the traffic (before the commute, I hasten to add, not during). It tells you how congested the roads are (they received a 5 on a scale of 1-10, with the warning that it was "building", a way of saying 5 going on 6).

So I got into work late, semi-disgruntled despite it all. Five more inches of snow fell and I have to say it was semi-festive, what with the white confetti orbing through the sky. If I could just mentally disassociate it with the work it involves on the driveway adn commute I might enjoy it. Looking at all the green trees sheaved in purest white, how can you not see it for the spectacular show it is?

After work & the shoveling of snow was done, had an exquisite Sierra Nevada Pale Ale that I'd saved up for with twenty minutes on the elliptical. I figure that should just about cover the caloric cost.

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Been lapping up Game Change like all good political junkies, a delectable read about the '08 campaign. I certainly didn't know George W. often calls Clinton when he's bored and how during the campaign called to say he didn't think Clinton was a racist: "The irony of the situation tickled Bush, but he also felt sympathy for Bill. Hey, buddy, Bush said, I know you're coming under attack; you just gotta keep your chin up." Indeed lately I've begun to like the Clintons more. Mostly I like them because now they see, at last, how the press treats conservatives. It's a personality flaw of mine, I suppose, to want to see people humbled given how little I like to be humbled. Christians are to be like Christ, and Christ went around healing and loving people and decreasing their misery, physical and spiritual.

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I must be comfortable in my masculinity given how I like this Kenneth Cole netbook bag I got for Christmas. It's been called by various family members as a "murse" (male purse), a "European shoulder bag" (by my father-in-law who chortles when he says it), a "man bag" by my wife. Yes, it's the bag with ten names. I do like the leather and smooth way it carries around my coveted CTS Bible, other books, and Kindle. I feel so stylish, which is unlike me. Then too I'm not sure what it says about me that I like women bloggers so much. Spanning the Globe's are starting to become Spanning U.S. Female Bloggers East of the Mississippi. All I can say is if I start appreciating shoes, just shoot me.

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I'm momentarily euphoric over finding a extra wireless mouse my wife had hidden in her discarded-but-not-throw-away computer supplies quiver. Saved me $25, which is $50 to most people and is $500 to Ham "One Square Per B.M." Bone. The netbook is much more friendly now that I can cut & paste and/or surf the web so easily.
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Enjoying blues music lately. I have to smile when I turn on the blues station because I always think of how Tom of Disputations once said that the whitest thing I ever wrote was attributing Sweet Home Chicago to the Blues Brothers. He's right of course, I know nuttin' about blues music. But ever since that riff in Adventures in Babysitting I've been hooked on the concept. I knows what I likes, and I likes that familiar "cool" rhythms and repetition and how it sort of matches my middle-aged metabolism in being not to slow and not too fast. It's sort of the halfway point between old country and new rock 'n roll, with the former too slow and the latter too fast.

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