Mondays

I was never very into Mondays. I think mostly it was the going to bed part. Or perhaps the waking up part. Maybe it was both.

Anyway, after high school, I never really had the whole "Monday" experience. Through college all the way up to a year ago, I never had a full-time, Mon-Fri, 9a-5p job. Usually I had retail or some night-shift type of work; most of the time it was part-time.

Even as a substitute teacher Mondays were still blah (and scary, but that's the substituting part).

Now, I have the full effect. And I'm thankful for it. Though Mondays come, weekend aftershock sleepiness lingers, and yearning to go home persists, I am very thankful for the blessing of order God's placed in my life. You see, the job I have received could not have been coincidence. It could not have come at a better, more appropriate, more beneficial time.

Beyond the portals of time, God carefully but masterfully orchestrated the specific series of events in which He would provide for me exactly what I needed to be a fruitful, productive, and important part of His overall plan.

Writer's Block

After a few successful, sequential days of creative energy and free forming flow of ideas and thoughts, I am now in writer's block. I mean, if you can actually be "in" writer's block.

You know, as if "Writer's Block" was an address somewhere in the middle of the city.

2851 Writer's Block, Anytown, USA.

Anyway...that's where I am now.

Cars: Trial & Error

Trial and Error is the key to figuring out cars.

Well, it is for me. For some reason, my initial Y-chromosome did not come equipped with the typically built-in automobile compatibility gene that tends to be attached somewhere in the main centromere of the gender-linked allele.

So, learning stuff about cars for me has come as a trial-and-error process. Of course, my own disinterest in really learning about cars coupled with the lack of an appropriately conducive environment have added to my ignorance.

By this process, I have learned the following:

• A car can be totaled on a cloudless, sunny, warm Sunday afternoon by hitting a tree at 35mph.
• Animals tend to hit vehicles rather than get hit.
• Buying a vehicle from a grocery store parking lot (even if it is run by the car lot across the street) is not a good idea...especially when you can only drive an automatic...and the car you're buying on impulse is a standard.
• Headlamp fluid is not an actual requirement for driving.
• The brackets holding the exhaust system to the car will rust and fall off, with no direct effect on the exhaust system.
• Water in the headlight casing causes the lightbulb to blow frequently; thus, I learned how to change the lightbulb with ease.
• When the engine sounds like the gears are rubbing together without lubrication and you are a couple thousand miles over the 3,000-mile suggested oil change limit, you are probably out of oil.

And I'm still learning.

(2) If I Were King of the Forest...

...rodential discrimination would be eliminated for good. No longer would moles, voles, rats, and mice be forced to pay for parking, whilst the felines and canines get first dibs on the tree bus.

Kanawha Players: The Crucible

The Kanawha Players' production of The Crucible at the Charleston Civic Center Little Theatre last night was easily one of the best performances I've seen in Charleston, WV.

As the last production of the current season before the grand opening of KP's new theatre on Beauregard Street, The Crucible featured many veteran community performers along with elementary, high school, and college students.

I had never read the entire Arthur Miller play, but had seen enough interpretations of the basic story outline in TV shows and movies to understand the crux of the story: a group of young girls condemn adult women with whom they find disfavour as witches during the Salem Witch Trials of the 15th Century. The dramatized version on a live stage proved to be unsettling and unnerving--the author's and director's intent.

Artistic Director Deborah Haught and Technical Director Greg Morris (with whom I was privileged to have shared a stage before) did wonders with what proved to be a phenomenal cast of actors and technical crew. The set was very well designed, complete with a fireplace descending from the rafters, rising and setting environmental sunlight in the backdrop, and quick on-and-off stage props.

I was mesmerized and locked into the story, acting, and production of this play from Kevin Pauley's emotional beginning (a No Pants Player) to the nail-biting end.

Dream: Cell Phone Hack & Soap Opera

It was a cold, icy, dark evening. Coming home from some escapade (but not an ice-capade), I was wedged between the driver and the other passenger: two men I knew that I knew, but could not identify. We slid the pickup semi-carefully down the slippery slope that was supposed to be a road between the bungalow on the right and the ice-glazed pond on the left. We got out, shaken, and went inside the warmth of the small house.

A couch was turned backward against the wall, with only one seat-length sticking out in front of the opening toward the kitchen. I turned to look outside and saw that the winter was melting quickly to summer, so I removed my thick coat. The family was all gathered inside for some kind of unspoken celebration.

My two fellow truck passengers, though having entered the house with me, had disappeared. Although I knew that everyone in the house was family in some way or another, I only recognized my cousin Mark. That is, until I saw my girlfriend seated on the couch.

I plopped down on the couch next to her and snuggled close. Suddenly, I heard an operator speaking on my cell phone. I opened it and heard her mention something like "Press 2 for flight delays nearby....Press 3 for...." On the display of the phone was some unusually formatted number that someone had dialed: "# 598 XA". 20 minutes had already elapsed on this strange call. Then, the display changed and I could tell someone was typing text on it. Someone had hacked into my cell phone somehow! As the display was showing the word "BATTERIES" being typed, I quickly opened the back cover and removed the battery, throwing it over my shoulder.

The ordeal averted, I turned back to my girlfriend. Just then, Bill Murray (not that Bill) from WSAZ News Channel 3 came in with his camera crew. "I need to practice some soap opera shots. Who in here is ready to try out for the soap opera?"

Everyone shuffled around as I stood up, removed my glasses in a melodramatic, soap-opera-like fashion, and said, "Not me." I then stared waiting for the commercial break to begin in the traditional fashion. Bill Murray went to walk around the couch.

Then, I woke up.

(1) If I Were King of the Forest...

...I would finally put an end to all squirrely table games. Gambling addiction is a threat to the livelihood and security of squirrels and their families. As King of the Forest, I would eradicate this part of the problem, helping the Sciurids overcome.