Cheap Thrills: Comfort Food

I didn't go to Home Community tonight. Instead, I took a dog and a book and a blanket and a sandwich and sat myself down on the lawn at Mt. Tabor and enjoyed just being outside and peaceful for awhile. Which was lovely. But if I had gone to Home Community, I would have needed to bring my favorite food for the "Favorite Foods" potluck. And I would have brought this:

Oh, Haagen-Dazs vanilla raspberry swirl frozen yogurt - I love thee with a love that is more than love.

Now, make no mistake, this frozen yogurt isn't good for you. Its list of ingredients, though refreshingly short, has both sugar and corn syrup (not really any better than its high fructose cousin) in the first four spots. But it isn't terrible for you. And if you're going to eat ice cream, I mean, come on. We'll settle for "not terrible."

Calorie wise, if you eat this whole pint, it'll only set you back 510. Which is, ya know, a meal, and though you probably shouldn't eat the whole pint if you can help it, (though you may not be able to help it. I understand.) it still beats the heck outta the 1000 calories you'd be downing in a pint of Ben & Jerry's.

And for crying out loud, this isn't a blog about nutrition, it's a blog about cheap happiness. And at around $3, a pint of this will make you super happy on a hot summer day. Because it is super, super yummy - just the right blend of vanilla and berry to achieve total summery bliss. It's pink, it's sweet, it's cold, it's just about perfect. It might even be perfect. Whatever it is, it's too darn good to be yogurt.

Yum.

love.

In Other Words...

Donald Miller's blog has gone to the dogs. One dog in particular. Her name is Lucy, and she's lovely, and delightfully insightful, and Caper has a big crush on her. You should read them all, but this one made me smile:

How to Love and Be Loved

I saw Donald Miller at the Doug Fir the other night, but didn't say anything so as not to be one of the hundreds of Blue Like Jazzers clambering to inform him that we'd probably be best friends because he just soooo gets it. But I will say: Good taste in concerts, Don Miller. And way to let your dog take over your blog.

Hope you had a good Monday, friends. Go forth and love and be loved.

love. ;)

A little link lovin...

I didn't blog yesterday. You can be mad at me if you want to.

Here are some lovely things I've seen this week:

I want to make these tables and put them, well, I'll figure that out later.

Coporate prayer nights are one of the many things I love about Imago. Here's a good argument for why you should come.

I mean, the man is a genius.

Oh Winona... you're my favorite best friend I haven't met yet. And this post made me smile.

My friend Rachelle has a beautiful soul.

These t-shirts made me drool just a little...

Shameless plug: I heart Claire Pettibone, and whisper sweet nothings to her in this post.

Speaking of souls, if mine has a color pallette, this is it.

I hope you have a beautiful weekend!

love.

A long, long time ago...

Vintage poetry today...

10/29/06

you who has been always, and nothing...

you appear here in lines yet unwritten
offering a vocabulary i couldn't have anticipated

the heart of me knows what follows
it recognizes in you the ancient-once it has loved equally -
curiosity, undeterred by self-preservation, requests you

mildly

just behind my eyes
so subtle, your arrival there at the front of all daydreams
quietly quickly and
firmly denied

there are risks my body still cannot fathom
parts of my heart it can no longer trust, and justly

i who have broken you always, and never
can't be selfless enough not to risk you again

an improbable proposition - yours is the safest rejection, all silence and miles
would you hate to know there are parts of me that still wake up with your name

my lastly well-loved boy, imagine...

i may be sonnet to your prose
you, all irreverent language
i, always, the fear to oppose

love.

On time and the lack thereof...

I've been reminded this week that we're mortal, each and every one of us - broken and breakable, fragile and flawed. As reminders go, I can't say this one is my favorite, but I think it's important.

I like to pretend I'm going to live forever. As long as I can remember, and much to my mother's dismay, I've been relatively unconcerned about my own safety. I'll gladly jump out of a plane, or climb that treacherous rock, or wander around dark neighborhoods at unwise hours of the night. I like to believe that I'm wandering through life in some sort of protective bubble, impervious to evil or accident or fate. I wear my confidence in a good God like it's physical armor instead of spiritual, as though faith alone can save me from tripping and scraping my knee.

But faith doesn't guarantee safety - in the Bible and in many parts of the world it has almost the opposite effect. God doesn't promise safe passage for my physical person along with His permanent destination for my soul. I felt the weight of that this week as I counted my father's heartbeats when I hugged him on Sunday and rested in the rhythm of his newly reset self. I witnessed it in the words of a wife who sat and prayed open-eyed at the end of her husband's hospital bed, kissing his feet through the blankets and smiling, beautiful and brave. I watched her, I hugged my father, and I remembered that these moments that we have here are fleeting - they are nothings, echoes, beginnings, vapor, dust in the wind. We have only the time we're given.

You know I believe in heaven, and I believe that when we leave this place we go back to our home, our God, our wholeness. I wish I could say I was anxious to get there. But always I remember all the things I want to do still, the words I want to say, the things I want to feel, and I can't help but hope I'll have the time to live them. Because while we're here, this thing we're doing is beautiful... it's violent and messy and hard and lovely and human, but it's our story. Today I'm reminded that I need to live every day as though the story is concluding- every hour the potential climax and every conversation the potent last that will be remembered. It's good to remember that fear is a liar, that we should be a little wasteful and extravagant sometimes with our words and our feelings, that we should shower each other with truth, with heart, with sappy praise, with helpful thoughts, with words of love. Because we were born already beginning to run out of time.

Don't hold back, friends. Don't hold back, self. Do that thing you've always wanted to do, tell that person you've been wanting to tell, try that impossible something you've been avoiding all this time. We are fools not to harness these moments. We are fools not to saturate them with joy.

love.

Cheap Thrills: Start a War

The following is my all time favorite cheap thing to do on a random weeknight. I'm fairly convinced that 90% of what is wrong with the world today could be solved if grownups would simply remember how, and find time, to play. This week's thrill is offered with the intention to ignite that dormant spirit of playfulness. Go forth and be goofballs.

Here's your plan:

Step 1: Choose a target. Ideally, an easy going friend or couple or collection of friends who live near you, have a front door with at least a few feet of yard in front of it, and might be willing to engage in some shenanigans.

Step 2: Choose an accomplice. Who wants to run around in the middle of the night on a school night making mischief by themselves? Plus, having an accomplice doubles your buying budget.

Step 3: Head to your local Dollar Store. If you don't have a Dollar Store, a Walgreen's or Fred Meyer or Rite Aid will usually do. Find the toy aisle and locate the army men - you know, the cheap little plastic ones kids used to play with way back before Nintendo DS. At the Dollar Store, you should be able to purchase a package of 100 army men (or firefighters or police officers if you're the pacifist type) for $1. Buy five. We're maxing out the budget on this one. If you have an accomplice, this would be the best time to use them and their five dollars and buy 10 packs of army men.

Step 4: Giggle a little. This whole thing is very silly.

Step 5: Don't miss this step: OPEN ALL THE PLASTIC BAGS OF ARMY MEN and put them into one big, soft, canvas bag. Crinkly plastic negates any and all efforts to be sneaky.

Step 6: Go time. Wait until you suspect your targets are sleeping and set up a battle in their front yard. Aim all the men at the door if you want to be belligerent, or create two armies and have them war with each other. If it's windy, curse a few times as you fail to get the darn dudes to stand up on their own. Get creative. Put them in mailboxes, suspend them in midair, line them up in patterns or spell words. Let the spirit move you.

Step 7: Stand back and admire your work. Take a picture in case a squirrel or cat knocks the whole display over and you need to prove how awesome and artistic your original concept was.

Step 8: Try not to say anything doofy to your friends the next day like: "So, how was YOUR morning? Anything unUsual happen?" so as not to have the spotlight of suspicion aimed squarely at your forehead. Though, if you're me, you're the first one they'll blame anyway.

Step 9: Sit back and wait for your target to retaliate. Reduce, reuse, and recycle those little guys. Spread the love through your social circle. Attack each other. It's what friends do.

Go play. And send me pictures if you do. :)

love.

In other words...

Not quite sure what the format will be for the Monday post just yet, but today, since the day has gotten away from me and there are only two minutes left till Tuesday, we'll start with e. e. cummings. Because I've never loved anyone else's words more consistently than I've loved his.

may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secret of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it's sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young

and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there's never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile

-e. e. cummings

I think I'll let this be my mantra for the week. What's yours?

love.