kapachino

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  • Havin’ a Good Time

    My brothers. What more can I say?

    http://youtu.be/H1dtnaUSGOQ

  • Don’t Forget to Remember.

    As I have mentioned before, this semester in school has been hard on me. It has been extremely time-consuming and stressful. I hardly noticed when Lent began. I barely have time in the morning to read a Bible verse. I try to pray throughout the day, but let’s be honest. That doesn’t always work. Yet I didn’t want to just let Holy Week come and go like any other week, so I decided to find a church service to attend for Good Friday. I wanted something solemn, something traditional. I decided on an episcopal church, where they were performing the stations of the cross service. I went by myself, because sometimes I like doing things alone. And this was one of those times.

    I walked into the cathedral-style sanctuary and took my seat on the third row. There weren’t many people there yet, as I was 15-20 minutes early. A minute later the choir began to warm up and tears immediately and unexpectedly filled my eyes. I didn’t realize how much I missed singing in a Christian choir. In college, at Tabor, I sang for all four years. My director was wonderful and passionate and he and the songs he chose for us never failed to inspire me. This church I attended had an excellent choir, and with their music filling the room it all washed over me again at that moment.

    When the service began, I fell in love; I think I was born to be an Episcopalian. I loved the entire process, from beginning to end. I loved the robes the choir wore, with the crosses hanging from their necks. I loved the liturgy. I loved the recitation:

    V. We adore thee, O Christ, and we bless thee:
    R. Because by thy holy cross thou hast redeemed the world.

    I loved the procession. I even loved all the standing and kneeling. I especially loved the short hymns we sang in between stations:

    “Kyrie eleison. Christe eleison. Kyrie eleison. Lord, have mercy upon us. Christ have mercy upon us. Lord, have mercy upon us.”

    “Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom. Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom.”

    I loved the sound, and I loved the silence. And I loved how it made me remember. This year, I hope Easter will not be just another day.

  • The Photographic Evolution of an Injured Toenail

    This is going to be your favorite post of all time, I just know it.

    Right after it got bruised:

    The bruise painted over:

    Another soccer game cracked it open.

    I didn’t want it to get infected so I took the polish off. The blood underneath had leaked out.

    This time an indoor soccer game did the damage.

    Its final days:

    The moment arrives.

    And you know what? Losing a toenail isn’t nearly as traumatic as I thought it would be. Turns out that half of it has already grown back underneath. It’s not too pretty, and it’s a little tender, but a Band-aid fixes it right up.

    Happy Tuesday!

  • I Lost $182, But At Least I Have My Truck Back

    This morning I was awakened around 6:20 a.m. when it began to storm. I thought, “Ahh, what a nice morning to sleep on.” I knew that soon enough I had to get up and start work on my research paper, but it wasn’t time yet. It was raining pretty hard, and then I heard a strange noise outside my window. I just figured it must be hailing, and I actually thought to myself, “I’m glad my car is in the covered parking spot.”

    A little later on in the morning, my roommate Carmen went to go work out. When she came back she asked me, “Kathleen, where’s your car?” My stomach sank. I looked out the window and sure enough, it was not in the spot where I had parked it the night before. “Carmen, I have no idea where it is,” I responded. I went outside and looked around, called my mom to make sure no one in the family came to get it–she said she thought it was probably on its way to Mexico–and so I finally came to the sad conclusion that it must be stolen.

    I immediately called the police to file a report. My mind was racing. How much money was this going to cost me? How am I going to get anywhere? What did I have inside the truck? I loved that little thing. I was going to drive it into the ground. Was this really happening? After speaking with the police, I called my insurance agency. They were asking me a bunch of questions and while I was on hold Carmen and I began to talk things out. Through this process I realized that maybe my car wasn’t stolen–maybe it had been towed. So she ran to the apartment office to find out if they knew anything while I was on the phone. The insurance agent was in the middle of telling me what was going to happen when Carmen rushed back and said, “Kathleen! It was towed.”

    What happened was that when I renewed my registration a few weeks ago, I was sent new license plates with a new number. I forgot to notify the apartment office of this, and they did an inspection of the lot last night and since the plate number didn’t match up with what they had on file, they towed it without even considering that it was the same car. Do you see the irony my friends?? It got towed because it was parked in the covered spot. So Carmen took me to pick it up, and it only cost me $182.39. What did I get for that money? I got my truck back–but it shouldn’t have been taken to begin with. I got my stress level elevated a few dozen notches. And I lost basically the entire morning since I could hardly concentrate on anything after the fiasco. I am not a very happy camper.

    But I do have my little delinquent truck. When I picked him up I felt like I was bailing a kid out of jail. I of course documented the experience.

    dscf0609 The auto storage place

    dscf0616 The sign out front

    dscf0623 Signing my life away

    dscf0620 There he is! (The tan one.)

    I am trying extremely hard not to be stressed out with my life these days, but I have a feeling that sometime within the next month there will be a breakdown. I am serious about this. But for now, I am holding it together.

    P.S. UCLA let me down tonight, and I had to say goodbye to the trophy that could have been–and one day will be–mine.

  • Time (Eventually)

    This morning I bought a ticket to see Anne Lamott , an author I love, speak on April 28 at the Episcopal Diocese of Texas. She has a new book out called Grace (Eventually), a collection of essays of her thoughts on faith. I was of course planning on reading the book sometime, but now I feel like I need to read it before I see her speak. Sooo, I’m going to have to step it up on my reading regimen. Although I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to manage that with my classes simultaneously stepping up their assignment regimens. I just might go a little crazy this next month. I am counting down the days (35!) until the end of this semester, when I will have exactly TWO GLORIOUS WEEKS of nothingness to entertain me, and I can let myself slip into the coma that I have been barely keeping at bay.