As soon as my brain no longer feels like a soppy rag incapable of thought or reflection I will post something wonderful. But that is not now. Either way I am home from Indiana.

If you give a girl a cookie...

I have discovered my Achilles Heel. My Kryptonite. My Yoko. You may be thinking the obvious answer- Food. Well yes and no. It is not food in general. It is a food specifically. The one, the only, the Cookie. Not just because it is the most delicious dessert creation in the universe. Not just because it can be simple and perfect, warm and gooey, or crunchy and complicated-it doesn't matter- you have a cookie? Give it to me. That is a threat. But the real reason that a cookie can put me on my knees? I can't bake a cookie to save my life. I'm not talking about ready to bake (thank you Lord for Nestle cookie dough!), I'm talking about from scratch. Fresh eggs, real butter, brown AND white sugar, chocolate chips, all those powdery ingredients (baking powder, flour, baking soda) a little salt, a little vanilla. Yum. Except when yours truly is behind the whisk. Look out and look forward to flat, flavorless flops. They don't look appetizing and they don't taste good. My biggest private domestic shame all wrapped up in a 3 inch diameter....disc.

I'm sorry

Very recently, as in today, I made a friend very aware that I was mad at them. And of course they have no idea the REAL reason for my anger. In fact what they believe me to be angry about is so ridiculous and petty there is no way I do not come out looking like a crazy person.

So...I should apologize. It is the right thing to do and I know God is pursuing a pure heart from me, but there is a problem. I don't really know how to apologize. Okay, that's not true. Truthfully I'm not ready to be sorry yet. And I'm not ready to be sorry yet because even I don't really understand what I'm mad about. I can pin point a few specific reasons but mostly my anger is built up of hundreds of small hurts accumulated over a several year friendship. I practice my speech in my mind and it always ends up something like, "I'm really sorry and I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm not really mad about this situation. I'm just mad because of all the times you hurt me and all the things you've said that made me feel like you looked down on me and well because...you suck..." Obviously that would go over well. And obviously over looks the fact that I too, at times, have done hurtful things to them. All the times I wasn't there for them. All the times I sucked. But who wants to think about that, right?

So while I'm trying to figure out how to make up with this friend; to my friends who are reading this now, for any and all times I hurt you, any little or big hurt that you kept deep down because you weren't ready to confront me yet, please accept my apology. Please don't keep it hidden anymore. And if you need to tell me to be free from it- Please tell me. I may not be ready to speak but I am ready to listen.

Eyes Wide Shut

Aaaaaaah! It burns! So glad my pupils are as big as quarters otherwise I might miss that bright searing light two inches from my eyeballs. Look forward? Don't blink? Oh sure! As you blur out into a greenish-yellow fog-blob I'll just stretch my peepers wide open. At least I get these awesome plastic sun-blockers when its over. They unroll like toilet paper and cling to the sides of my head reminding everyone how awesome the Terminator movies really are, and hey, lets check for T2 at the Red Box! I'm going home. Sigh.