wait a second... try this for cool SBTB trivia

there will be a saved by the bell: episodes 1 and 2 watching party at my house soon so bring your reebok pumps and your hypercolor tees. date and time to be announced. check out fun trivia or maybe saved by the bell drinking games here

i am in some what of a rebellious mood today.

today was the infamous shopping day with the grandparents. i don't know if i would call it a tradition because there is really no set date for this event, however it usually does fall around some kind of holiday. shopping to me is like that sore at the roof of your mouth that just won't heal because you can't stop tonguing it. well, i am very pleased to say that we walked the grapevine mill's mile track in just under two hours. i know, i should have been in cross country. i think my grandparents sat on every bench in that mall.

so my rebelliousness lies in the fact that i made it out of the mall without getting anything for myself. today that's a good thing. there have been many a trip like these in which my grandma will insist on buying some kind of trinket for us grand kids. but in an effort to ease out of the good intention and getting the useless gift, i usually end up knocking heads with her. something just rubbed me the wrong way today when my grandma handed me a twenty dollar bill and told me that if i saw something i liked i could get it. i guess it's because i've felt like i haven't been able to be me this week around my grandparents. they don't really get my humor and i have to choose carefully each and every word i say to them. i kind of felt like i was being paid off by my grandma to fit their mold they've made for me. i know i am probably just blowing this generous gift out of wack but like i said before, i am in one of those rebellious moods today.

Most men live life in silent desperation.
-Thoreau-

these lyrics are the story of my life right now:

give me one more time around
give me one more chance to see,
give me everything you are
give me one more chance to be near you

when everything inside me
looks like everything i hate
you are the hope i have for change
you are the only chance i'll take

and i'm on fire when your near me
i'm on fire when you speak
i'm on fire burning at these mysteries.

once again john foreman, you read my journal.

Desperation sleeps,
The winter frost grips the Night.
A mental protest,
Should sun burn, set dreams to Flight.
Awake, O ambitions

I have a terrible need of -- dare I say the word? -- religion. Then I go out at night to paint the stars...

- Vincent van Gogh, Arles, 1888

the elves still have the phattest pad in all of middle earth...

today was one of those mornings when you wake up feeling like you accidentally set your alarm just a few hours too early. i was in the middle of this great dream where is was sifting through this really cool thrift store searching for buried treasures when i was interrupted by some dude singing about who knows what and for really no other reason but to wake me up. and then i remember the exams i have today. and then i remember hitting snooze and trying to return to that thrift store before anyone else takes off with the goods. and then that dude started singing again. but even though he pulled me away from the store i'm glad he did because i needed to knock out two finals today. two down, two more to go.
(for added fun in reading this say all the "and then"s like they do in dude, where's my car? then maybe say it like your underwater or try it in a foreign language. also draw what "and then" means to you. it could be fun.)

do you ever come across those smells that take you back to a familiar place. last night the smell of winter was in the misty air which wrapped itself around me like a cool blanket. everything was so quiet. i soon found myself at my grandparents house in the forested mountains of northern new jersey. i remember how the yard could be transformed over night by a fresh snowfall. and how occasionally a deer would grace the yard to complete the norman rockwell american christmas look. i don't think my grandpa really cared much for the deer or snow but when you're from flower mound, texas these things are a treat. so i just wanted to say that i love the smell of winter. thank you, good night.

today i saw a seagull flying in front of marcus high school. either he's a long way from home or there is some undiscovered ocean down the street.

does anybody know anything about postmodernism other than the fact that it's poop?

got smashed tonight in my indoor soccer game. i will not discuss the score or method my team choose to play or rather not to play but i can say that when the refs hang their whistles and the fluorescent lights go out i know that i gave it my all. i had fun.

thanks brent for the info on getting hooked up with the comments. you're my hero.

i remember the first time i took a stand for what i believed in protesting my well deserved rights. the intensity of the matter still echoes in my mind today.

i have been fortunate enough to have moved to the great flowerplex area before california showed up. my neighborhood was just being developed and several plots of land zoned for houses remained unspoiled. there where three connecting lots at the end of my street that we elementary crusaders of suburbia affectionately called "the base". countless hours were spent there building forts, climbing trees, getting poison ivy, and ripping holes in the knees of our jeans. the base had become an after school program for further development of our character. we had a new respect for creation as we discovered tadpoles and crayfish in the creek forming the rear border of the lot. we understood the structural intengrity of certain pieces of wood. we learned to problem solve and work as a team when finding our way up and down the tallest oak tree in the neighborhood. the base was truly an incredible experience.

one day, as if christmas found an earlier date on the calendar, we arrived to our base to find several freshly poured dirt mounds. my friends and i new what to do. we saddled our bmx's and rode off to do battle with this imposter on our land. hours went by as we popped wheelies and bunny hops, bent spokes and kicked up dust on the mounds. we burned trails in the dirt and and signed our names with the tread of our tires. we ruled and it was fun.

but if their was a life lesson to be learned it was that the things of this world will soon pass away. it was late afternoon. the pavement was warm and the sun was hanging around just above the rooftops of the neighborhood houses. jason goodman, matt nelson and myself set out to do what every elementary kid did after school and that was to conquer once again that empty dirt lot taunting us at the end of my street. we rode our bikes over to the lot and began to blaze around the trails we had made. but the joyful bliss and imaginary world we had created was fractured by and unfamiliar sound. the trail of dust engulfed us as we where all stopped short in our tracks. a tractor, driven by my neighbor emerged from behind his fence. as a knight in a joust, he rode toward us, his shovel his weapon. caught off guard, we watched in horror as he made his first strike. he dug deep into the mound that had become so much apart of the base and unearthed it from it's home. again and again he ripped the soil up and dumped it into the creek. we couldn't sit back and watch any longer. this was our land. our "base". we found it first and cultivated it into something good. he was destroying it. we anticipated his next move and did what we thought best. to sit. we sat in protest at the edge of his destruction and stared down the beast. his shovel sunk in below us and uprooted us from our stronghold. we pushed forward again to hold our ground but the machine was to srong and drove us back. the beast made a few more costly blows but our edurance held out the day as the attacker turned and rode away. it was a bittersweet victory for us that day as we beheld the devastation to our land, our love. but we held tight to what we believed in and fought hard for it. those mounds will see another sun rise and the trends of my bmx.

hey, if you are just now viewing my blog and wondering why there seems to be an over emphasis on relevant mag or a biter critique of the suburban life and church it's mostly due to a lack of understanding of the "post" and "publish" methodology and that philosophical reasoning that only makes sense late at night. so sorry for the current fluff. i'm under construction. (can one ever be "over" construction?)

yesterday i almost put hair gel on my toothbrush. when's Christmas break?

everybody is screaming for redemption but not everyone knows where to look.

df

after reading a recent blog from a fellow friend and mentor, similar questions he posed seemed to surfer out of that gray matter sloshing around between my ears. what's the deal with suburbia. is it a nice getaway to a utopia of thoughtlessness. i mean, where is the flux of creativity among the tract homes and cell phones? could it be that we now can understand peoples personalities by the type of cell phone ring they choose. we mow our yards twice a week so the neighbors won't call the city on us and having a front entry garage regardless of how big your house is could move you to low income housing status. i couldn't agree more with my friend that our creature comforts of life can lead to a "self induced retirement of the mind." it seems that dualism and complacency run rampant and nobody wants to fess up to it dare we make a splash and ripple the norm of everyday life. we get our ears tickled on sunday and then it's back to the job which could simply be viewed as a means to an end. it gets the bills paid. IT'S REALITY! whatever.
i guess the question i bring to you today is this:
how does a cookie cut Christian like me who finds himself in the great slashed and burned jungle of suburbia live a life that is Christian by all means but unique to the individual. the more i try to live for Christ and draw my inspiration and creativity from the ultimate creator, the more i don't want to give in to the guidelines of the suburban church. i don't want to dress like everyone else, i don't want to talk like everyone else. i don't want to nod my head in agreement at everything that is tossed my way. i just want to be me. i want to be different but relevant. can i do that without offending anyone?

can you give me a john wayne or an amen?

relevant news

relevant news

relevant news

hello

i wish i had what i needed
to be on my own
but i feel so defeated
and i'm feeling alone
and it all seems so helpless
and i have no plans
i'm a plane in this sunset
with no where to land
and all i see it could never make me happy
and all my sand castles spend their time collapsing

let me know that you hear me
let me know your touch
let me know that you love me
let that be enough
-john foreman