Saturday, July 07, 2012
En France
Well, I'm here. Arrived at Argenton les Vallees (aka Argenton-Chateau) yesterday afternoon. It was quite a journey.
I left my hot little studio apartment at about 3:30 and caught a cab to JFK. My light was Delta operated by Air France, so I thought telling the driver I was going to the Delta International flights would suffice.
Nope. I wound up at the Delta terminal when I NEEDED the terminal that had the Air France flights. No worries. One stop further down on the air tram and I was right where I needed to be.
The International terminal is definitely the place to be. It felt like Ellis Island or something. It was nuts. Very modern with all kinds of people speaking all kinds of languages. The Air France automated check-in was (unsurprisingly) in French, although you could select "Anglais" (which I did).
Flew on the A380 which is the enormous double-decker jumbo jet. I arrived almost two hours early (which was nice as I got to chill and sit listening to my Michel Thomas "Learn French in 8 Hours" app), and even though the plan was there the entire time, we boarded more than 30 minutes late because they were still cleaning it and loading it with food.
When we finally boarded, there was one line for the lower deck and one for the upper deck (where I was sitting). There were four classes of seating and starting at the front really sold the premium packages well. Of course, I wasn't thinking clearly at first, so when I saw the enormous chairs that looked fully reclinable, with TVs and magazines and huge arm rests and your own personal book light, I thought, "THIS is going to be an AMAZING flight." But the further back we went, the smaller the seats got until we got back to "steerage class" which looked like a normal plane, only crammed with seats (including those dreadful four-seat rows in the middle).
I booked my seat in the very last row by the window. The window seats were, fortunately, only two-seaters, so if I wanted to get up and go to the bathroom, I only had to crawl over one person.
The map of the plane on the Internet gave the impression that the bathroom was actually a little bit removed from the seats.
Nope. Every time someone flushed the pressurized toilets, it sounded like someone opened one of the plane windows and all the air was being sucked out. That is to say, it was loud and startling every time. The lady I had to climb over was not terribly attractive... older, frumpy, and pretty sour, actually. She looked annoyed the entire flight.
We were delayed even more before we could take off because of all the traffic on the ground. So even though our flight was at 7:15, we didn't leave until about 8:35. Which meant there was a huge rush for the bathroom once the captain turned off the seatbelt sign.
I became just a little nervous when I saw that my iPhone battery was pretty low. I wanted to keep going with my French lessons, but didn't want to completely drain it in case I needed to access my email or something once in France. Fortunately, the TV on the seat back in front of me (we may have been traveling 4th class, but everyone still had a TV and pretty fancy tray table) had a USB port and I JUST HAPPENED to bring my iPhone USB cable with me. So I plugged in and charged up.
The flight itself was actually really smooth. Even when we hit turbulence, it felt more like a rocking than a lurching. Don't know how they did that.
Sleeping didn't really happen. I was a bit too wired from trying to take in all this new stuff, language included--the staff on the plane would initially speak to you in French and when it became clear that you were American, they'd switch. I wanted so badly to TRY speaking some French, but my vocabulary is still pretty limited and I didn't want to give the impression that I was ready to talk about their favorite part of Les Miserables au francais.
It was very strange to see how short the night actually lasted. The French passenger in front of me opened his window shade just a few hours after closing it and WHOA. Broad daylight. It made me think that, while the premium seats looked comfortable, the plan to sleep on the plane and wake up refreshed at 8:30 just before landing wouldn't actually work, since you lose so much time. You'd still only get something like 4 hours of sleep anyway.
We landed and de-planed in Paris (or outside of Paris, I guess. I didn't actually see the city at all). Went through customs, got bags (which took forever), got some more Euros, and walked down to the train station to catch my TGV to Angers Saint Laud (pronounced Anschay San Lau). Even though we were very late coming in and getting our bags took forever, I still had about two hours to wait in the station...and then even MORE because the train was 30 minutes late! Some bullet train.
So then began the next leg of the journey, the almost 2.5 hour train ride westward toward Spain. Riding through RURAL France. The people on the train and the places we passed looked like something out of my high school French textbook. The young men all were trapped in some sort of fashion time-warp. Something I've noticed with European fashion, in general, is that the styles are some strange mix of early 90s with an 80s color palette. And NOBODY works out. That much was obvious. Not that there were lots of overweight people, but rather, all the men are a bit on the slender side and the bodies tend to have a bit more of a softer, average quality. VERY different from New York City.
The beginning of the train ride was probably the most nerve-wracking part of the trip. By now I had figured out that I was totally cut off. If I wanted WiFi in the airport/train station, I needed to pay for it. I decided I could probably manage without it, since I knew my stop and had my ticket with the train number and seat assignment. Once on the train, I couldn't use WiFi even if I wanted to--and in taking in all my surroundings, I forgot to take my brother's advice and buy a prepaid cellphone at the airport.
The problem with the train ride was that if I missed my stop, I didn't know what I would do. And there were no maps or signs on the train indicating the order of the stops, and the first few stations were only sparsely marked with the name of the stop. I envisioned pulling away from one of the stations, only to spy the one sign that read "Angers Saint Laud" and then having to figure out how to ask someone for assistance ("Assistance!" is actually not a bad place to start!).
Fortunately, that didn't happen. The stops became better-marked and I managed to hear the conductor over the loudspeaker SAY the name of the town when he apologized for the fact that we would be about 20 minutes late to this town and this town and this town. That was very comforting to know that I would understand him when he said the name of the town, because he spoke so fast I was afraid I wouldn't understand. He also repeated some of the information in English, but his accent was so thick and he switched without any sort of preamble (no "Ladeez and gentlemen") that you just had to hold on until you caught some English words.
Also, I knew I could figure out which stop was mine because it was clear the train was NOT making many stops. Angers was supposed to be the 3:08 stop (9am in New York and really starting to feel it!) so if I added 20-30 minutes to the trip because of the delay, that meant wherever we stopped around 3:30 would be where I needed to get off.
But if things got even dicier, I managed to cobble together some French so I could ask the lady to voulez-vous ditez-moi quand(?) nous arrivons en Angers parce que je suis American et je parle francais un peu, mais il parlent trop vite pour moi. (Will you tell me when we arrive in Angers? I am American and I speak a little French, but he speaks too fast for me.) I was busting with pride over my ability to put that together, but I never had to use it.
It was a BIG stop. Lots of people got off. I hadn't found my contact yet, but I was so relieved to know that my part of the journey was pretty much over. Someone was picking me up and would drive me the rest of the way. My brain started to decompress as SOON as I set foot off the train.
It didn't take long for me to spot Tim, one of the teachers and owners of the school. We'd never met before and I didn't know what he looked like, but I was trying to make eye contact with every man just standing in the station--figured one of them would say, "John?" at some point. And sure enough.
I paid 50 cents to use the bathroom and then we hopped into his car and we were off on the FINAL part of the journey, the 45-60 minute drive even FURTHER out into the country. So yes. Planes, trains, and automobiles.
We had a good conversation and I got to know more about the school and ask questions about its history. The country we drove through was VERY Europe. Everything was old and had a settled, cultivated feel to it. Old stone crosses were scattered here and there.
I was starting to wonder if I was ever going to make it to this town after non-stop travel. But we made it and I got settled in (more on the house and town later). We went to the grocery store to stock me up on a few basic things--thus relieving me of the final "unknown" of the trip; what I was going to EAT. Once that was done, I took a picture of the view from my window, emailed it to friends and family as a way of wordlessly saying, "I'm here" before taking a BRIEF nap around 6:00.
Around 8, Tim and Michelle, the owners of the school and its instructors, came to my house and we walked to the one restaurant in town and had a big "welcome to France" meal.
Came home, emailed a bit, and crashed.
So that's where things are now! I've taken loads of pictures, but this memory card is the "bad one" that has problems being read by the one SD card reader I brought with me. So pictures may not be uploaded for a while, but I'll keep taking them in the meantime!
I left my hot little studio apartment at about 3:30 and caught a cab to JFK. My light was Delta operated by Air France, so I thought telling the driver I was going to the Delta International flights would suffice.
Nope. I wound up at the Delta terminal when I NEEDED the terminal that had the Air France flights. No worries. One stop further down on the air tram and I was right where I needed to be.
The International terminal is definitely the place to be. It felt like Ellis Island or something. It was nuts. Very modern with all kinds of people speaking all kinds of languages. The Air France automated check-in was (unsurprisingly) in French, although you could select "Anglais" (which I did).
Flew on the A380 which is the enormous double-decker jumbo jet. I arrived almost two hours early (which was nice as I got to chill and sit listening to my Michel Thomas "Learn French in 8 Hours" app), and even though the plan was there the entire time, we boarded more than 30 minutes late because they were still cleaning it and loading it with food.
When we finally boarded, there was one line for the lower deck and one for the upper deck (where I was sitting). There were four classes of seating and starting at the front really sold the premium packages well. Of course, I wasn't thinking clearly at first, so when I saw the enormous chairs that looked fully reclinable, with TVs and magazines and huge arm rests and your own personal book light, I thought, "THIS is going to be an AMAZING flight." But the further back we went, the smaller the seats got until we got back to "steerage class" which looked like a normal plane, only crammed with seats (including those dreadful four-seat rows in the middle).
I booked my seat in the very last row by the window. The window seats were, fortunately, only two-seaters, so if I wanted to get up and go to the bathroom, I only had to crawl over one person.
The map of the plane on the Internet gave the impression that the bathroom was actually a little bit removed from the seats.
Nope. Every time someone flushed the pressurized toilets, it sounded like someone opened one of the plane windows and all the air was being sucked out. That is to say, it was loud and startling every time. The lady I had to climb over was not terribly attractive... older, frumpy, and pretty sour, actually. She looked annoyed the entire flight.
We were delayed even more before we could take off because of all the traffic on the ground. So even though our flight was at 7:15, we didn't leave until about 8:35. Which meant there was a huge rush for the bathroom once the captain turned off the seatbelt sign.
I became just a little nervous when I saw that my iPhone battery was pretty low. I wanted to keep going with my French lessons, but didn't want to completely drain it in case I needed to access my email or something once in France. Fortunately, the TV on the seat back in front of me (we may have been traveling 4th class, but everyone still had a TV and pretty fancy tray table) had a USB port and I JUST HAPPENED to bring my iPhone USB cable with me. So I plugged in and charged up.
The flight itself was actually really smooth. Even when we hit turbulence, it felt more like a rocking than a lurching. Don't know how they did that.
Sleeping didn't really happen. I was a bit too wired from trying to take in all this new stuff, language included--the staff on the plane would initially speak to you in French and when it became clear that you were American, they'd switch. I wanted so badly to TRY speaking some French, but my vocabulary is still pretty limited and I didn't want to give the impression that I was ready to talk about their favorite part of Les Miserables au francais.
It was very strange to see how short the night actually lasted. The French passenger in front of me opened his window shade just a few hours after closing it and WHOA. Broad daylight. It made me think that, while the premium seats looked comfortable, the plan to sleep on the plane and wake up refreshed at 8:30 just before landing wouldn't actually work, since you lose so much time. You'd still only get something like 4 hours of sleep anyway.
We landed and de-planed in Paris (or outside of Paris, I guess. I didn't actually see the city at all). Went through customs, got bags (which took forever), got some more Euros, and walked down to the train station to catch my TGV to Angers Saint Laud (pronounced Anschay San Lau). Even though we were very late coming in and getting our bags took forever, I still had about two hours to wait in the station...and then even MORE because the train was 30 minutes late! Some bullet train.
So then began the next leg of the journey, the almost 2.5 hour train ride westward toward Spain. Riding through RURAL France. The people on the train and the places we passed looked like something out of my high school French textbook. The young men all were trapped in some sort of fashion time-warp. Something I've noticed with European fashion, in general, is that the styles are some strange mix of early 90s with an 80s color palette. And NOBODY works out. That much was obvious. Not that there were lots of overweight people, but rather, all the men are a bit on the slender side and the bodies tend to have a bit more of a softer, average quality. VERY different from New York City.
The beginning of the train ride was probably the most nerve-wracking part of the trip. By now I had figured out that I was totally cut off. If I wanted WiFi in the airport/train station, I needed to pay for it. I decided I could probably manage without it, since I knew my stop and had my ticket with the train number and seat assignment. Once on the train, I couldn't use WiFi even if I wanted to--and in taking in all my surroundings, I forgot to take my brother's advice and buy a prepaid cellphone at the airport.
The problem with the train ride was that if I missed my stop, I didn't know what I would do. And there were no maps or signs on the train indicating the order of the stops, and the first few stations were only sparsely marked with the name of the stop. I envisioned pulling away from one of the stations, only to spy the one sign that read "Angers Saint Laud" and then having to figure out how to ask someone for assistance ("Assistance!" is actually not a bad place to start!).
Fortunately, that didn't happen. The stops became better-marked and I managed to hear the conductor over the loudspeaker SAY the name of the town when he apologized for the fact that we would be about 20 minutes late to this town and this town and this town. That was very comforting to know that I would understand him when he said the name of the town, because he spoke so fast I was afraid I wouldn't understand. He also repeated some of the information in English, but his accent was so thick and he switched without any sort of preamble (no "Ladeez and gentlemen") that you just had to hold on until you caught some English words.
Also, I knew I could figure out which stop was mine because it was clear the train was NOT making many stops. Angers was supposed to be the 3:08 stop (9am in New York and really starting to feel it!) so if I added 20-30 minutes to the trip because of the delay, that meant wherever we stopped around 3:30 would be where I needed to get off.
But if things got even dicier, I managed to cobble together some French so I could ask the lady to voulez-vous ditez-moi quand(?) nous arrivons en Angers parce que je suis American et je parle francais un peu, mais il parlent trop vite pour moi. (Will you tell me when we arrive in Angers? I am American and I speak a little French, but he speaks too fast for me.) I was busting with pride over my ability to put that together, but I never had to use it.
It was a BIG stop. Lots of people got off. I hadn't found my contact yet, but I was so relieved to know that my part of the journey was pretty much over. Someone was picking me up and would drive me the rest of the way. My brain started to decompress as SOON as I set foot off the train.
It didn't take long for me to spot Tim, one of the teachers and owners of the school. We'd never met before and I didn't know what he looked like, but I was trying to make eye contact with every man just standing in the station--figured one of them would say, "John?" at some point. And sure enough.
I paid 50 cents to use the bathroom and then we hopped into his car and we were off on the FINAL part of the journey, the 45-60 minute drive even FURTHER out into the country. So yes. Planes, trains, and automobiles.
We had a good conversation and I got to know more about the school and ask questions about its history. The country we drove through was VERY Europe. Everything was old and had a settled, cultivated feel to it. Old stone crosses were scattered here and there.
I was starting to wonder if I was ever going to make it to this town after non-stop travel. But we made it and I got settled in (more on the house and town later). We went to the grocery store to stock me up on a few basic things--thus relieving me of the final "unknown" of the trip; what I was going to EAT. Once that was done, I took a picture of the view from my window, emailed it to friends and family as a way of wordlessly saying, "I'm here" before taking a BRIEF nap around 6:00.
Around 8, Tim and Michelle, the owners of the school and its instructors, came to my house and we walked to the one restaurant in town and had a big "welcome to France" meal.
Came home, emailed a bit, and crashed.
So that's where things are now! I've taken loads of pictures, but this memory card is the "bad one" that has problems being read by the one SD card reader I brought with me. So pictures may not be uploaded for a while, but I'll keep taking them in the meantime!
Friday, December 30, 2011
In case you were wondering...
My home has become a warzone.
I just got back from the Duane Reade with some sleeping pills.
Leo let his apartment out to his friends from Florida. Yeah. He's gone, but that doesn't mean I get a break from the noise.
They have NO IDEA how loud they are.
I left them a note. That seems to have helped (I asked them to keep it down after midnight), but every other minute of the day, they are coming and going, or hanging out in the doorway. I swear, it's like a hotel room. People shouldn't come and go like this! This is an APARTMENT BUILDING.
Having just turned the corner on this stomach bug, my stomach is still a little fluttery. The irritation from the constant stomping and slamming of doors on the other side of the wall wasn't helping. So I went outside to get a little brandy and some sleep aides to see if that wouldn't help calm things down a bit.
The noise of the helicopters was worse when I stepped outside. Holy cats. What are the helicopters doing up there? New Years isn't until tomorrow!
The crowds. Oh my LORD, the crowds. I know it's bad every year, but COME ON. It is a freakin' NIGHTMARE out there! All of Midtown has become a theme park. I'm hearing baristas in every Starbucks giving directions to nearby points of interest...it's like in my Six Flags days.
It's awful.
Why do I live here?
Friday, July 29, 2011
Some Updates
I'm back from yet another trip to Precept in Chattanooga, TN. This time around was a study of Ezekiel (part 1... ch 1-32). It was intense and difficult and informative and incredible. I love going down there.
I'm back in New York now. Modeling work is at a halt. The schools don't do much in the summer and the artists I usually work one-on-one with are all busy with other projects. I've got a little something--another Jesus painting--lined up for August, a little school thing for evenings September, and a full-blown religious painting in October. I'll have to go to Connecticut for that one but it should be interesting. In November and December evenings will be devoted almost entirely to A Christmas Carol.
So the current scarcity means I'm looking in earnest for more part-time work. With previous office experience being the most easily marketable batch of skills I have, it's unfortunately not not as easy to convince employers that just because I have hair all over my head doesn't mean I can't WORK. Guys like me are stuck doing hippie work. I'll probably swing by Trader Joe's this afternoon and pick up an application. A friend at a video game news blog company sent my resume to her boss. Maybe that'll lead to something.
I feel like transitioning. Maybe it's just the old 3-5 year itch from growing up in an always-moving military family. But I feel like I'm ready to try new things. Maybe put the acting stuff on the side for a few years and go back to school. Get an IT degree or something and have a job where I can make rent and enjoy just being me without the stress of having to worry that I'm throwing away an acting career.
I know, I know. I've already put the acting career on the side, according to outside observers. I've spent the couple of years making an unexpected career out of being a figure model at New York art schools. But in my head I haven't put it away. In my head, I've been nervous, I've been stressed, I've not been able to shake the feeling that I'm failing every time I say "Yes" to another modeling gig. I've so enjoyed being away from the audition culture, being able to do what I want to do, look how I want to look, away from the fear, away from the constant rejection, away from being sized up all the time...
But the enjoyment of all these things is ruined when the "Acting Thing" rears its head. My stomach tightens. My pulse increases. "Enjoy your freedom while it lasts because next year you have to audition for soap operas and get your career back on track" casts a shadow over it all. Maybe for someone more self-assured, less wrapped up in nuance and detail of the intricacies of life, it makes no difference.
But I'm not like that. I'm an ISFJ. I'm the Little Old Lady of personality types. Everything is felt, everything is remembered, everything is stored away, but worst of all, everything matters. Things aren't so easily discarded. As the helpless, dependent "baby" of the family, what I want, what I really really want out of life, is to just be able to KNOW and IDENTIFY with some degree of certainty, is who Forky is and what Forky wants. That's it. Maybe that's why I don't have dreams. I don't have career plans. I don't have a 5 year goal. I don't have high hopes of starting a big family or becoming famous or whatever.
I guess, to some extent, that's a dilemma everybody faces. They just don't think about it so much.
Or maybe I'm just another of the 30-something indecisive man-boys that are so prevalent these days.
Whoa. Sorry for getting all deep on this post. How about we end on a silly note?
I'm back in New York now. Modeling work is at a halt. The schools don't do much in the summer and the artists I usually work one-on-one with are all busy with other projects. I've got a little something--another Jesus painting--lined up for August, a little school thing for evenings September, and a full-blown religious painting in October. I'll have to go to Connecticut for that one but it should be interesting. In November and December evenings will be devoted almost entirely to A Christmas Carol.
So the current scarcity means I'm looking in earnest for more part-time work. With previous office experience being the most easily marketable batch of skills I have, it's unfortunately not not as easy to convince employers that just because I have hair all over my head doesn't mean I can't WORK. Guys like me are stuck doing hippie work. I'll probably swing by Trader Joe's this afternoon and pick up an application. A friend at a video game news blog company sent my resume to her boss. Maybe that'll lead to something.
I feel like transitioning. Maybe it's just the old 3-5 year itch from growing up in an always-moving military family. But I feel like I'm ready to try new things. Maybe put the acting stuff on the side for a few years and go back to school. Get an IT degree or something and have a job where I can make rent and enjoy just being me without the stress of having to worry that I'm throwing away an acting career.
I know, I know. I've already put the acting career on the side, according to outside observers. I've spent the couple of years making an unexpected career out of being a figure model at New York art schools. But in my head I haven't put it away. In my head, I've been nervous, I've been stressed, I've not been able to shake the feeling that I'm failing every time I say "Yes" to another modeling gig. I've so enjoyed being away from the audition culture, being able to do what I want to do, look how I want to look, away from the fear, away from the constant rejection, away from being sized up all the time...
But the enjoyment of all these things is ruined when the "Acting Thing" rears its head. My stomach tightens. My pulse increases. "Enjoy your freedom while it lasts because next year you have to audition for soap operas and get your career back on track" casts a shadow over it all. Maybe for someone more self-assured, less wrapped up in nuance and detail of the intricacies of life, it makes no difference.
But I'm not like that. I'm an ISFJ. I'm the Little Old Lady of personality types. Everything is felt, everything is remembered, everything is stored away, but worst of all, everything matters. Things aren't so easily discarded. As the helpless, dependent "baby" of the family, what I want, what I really really want out of life, is to just be able to KNOW and IDENTIFY with some degree of certainty, is who Forky is and what Forky wants. That's it. Maybe that's why I don't have dreams. I don't have career plans. I don't have a 5 year goal. I don't have high hopes of starting a big family or becoming famous or whatever.
I guess, to some extent, that's a dilemma everybody faces. They just don't think about it so much.
Or maybe I'm just another of the 30-something indecisive man-boys that are so prevalent these days.
Whoa. Sorry for getting all deep on this post. How about we end on a silly note?
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Who Needs Seminary?
Gearing up for Names of God...
Prepping to assist with Central's Psummer of Psalms Adult Sunday School...
Getting ready to start my Ezekiel homework for this summer's trip to Chattanooga...
And just for fun, how about the Precept Joel Rosenberg Last Days study? Why not?
I barely have time for video games anymore.
I'm really surprised by how little I really know about the Bible and about God. I'm still something of a human train wreck, but man, I'm having the time of my life here.
Ack! Getting a migraine. And from my studies I know that God is sovereign over blindness and intense head pain and the inability to form sentences! Hallelujah!
Prepping to assist with Central's Psummer of Psalms Adult Sunday School...
Getting ready to start my Ezekiel homework for this summer's trip to Chattanooga...
And just for fun, how about the Precept Joel Rosenberg Last Days study? Why not?
I barely have time for video games anymore.
I'm really surprised by how little I really know about the Bible and about God. I'm still something of a human train wreck, but man, I'm having the time of my life here.
Ack! Getting a migraine. And from my studies I know that God is sovereign over blindness and intense head pain and the inability to form sentences! Hallelujah!
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Back at CrossFit
Okay, I'm down to somewhere between 175 and 180. I've still got a little chunk around the middle but I've also put on a bit more muscle too. My diet has eased up a little and I'm going to CrossFit every other day or so. All in all, things are tightening up a bit, but I'm still bigger than I was.
So the next step would be to cut the french fries and donuts and go back to salads and organic eggs and chicken and that sort of thing. I may try to find a balance... do Paleo for 5-6 days a week and have a pizza day. Or something like that. I've never felt better than when I cut out the grains and the sugar, but at the same time, I was also never as LEAN. And while cutting all body fat is the goal of most people, in my line of work, a little chunk, a little MASS, a little SIZE isn't necessarily seen as a BAD thing.
Besides, pizza is WAY cheaper than organic everything.
In other news, I did the first week of the Precept 'LORD, Where Are You When Bad Things Happen?' study and I think we're gonna hafta switch gears. I'd been hoping to lead a group at our church in this study, but dang. This study.
See, you expect a Bible study to be all sweetness and pleasantness and rainbows and bluebirds and stuff that's just supposed to make you feel GOOD.
Like the last one I completed (the darkest Bible study I've ever done EVER 'LORD, Heal My Hurts'), this one is unexpectedly HEAVY. And it's heavy because it's not skimping on the TRUTH. The problem is...
THEY CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!
Seriously. I don't think they can. Instead of being in agreement, I'm afraid the folks participating in the study would throw their hands up in politically correct horror when she compares sacrificing Israelite babies to Molech with modern-day abortion.
I may not be giving them enough credit. But then again, I've moved WELL beyond the scars I acquired from Southern Religion gone bad. Instead of being quite so defensive, I've learned to separate the facts from a study from the editorializing.
The #1 thing I'm dealing with right now is commentaries. People would rather read commentaries or full books on God rather than studying the Bible. As a result, they know what C.S. Lewis thinks about God (which is FINE! I LOVE that guy!) but the problem is they don't know for themselves what the Bible says about God. They wind up Biblically illiterate. People think I've been to seminary. No. I just found a teacher that I liked and started doing daily Bible studies. Not just READING though...actually STUDYING.
Might I encourage you to do the same?
In other news, I did a google search for 'is Carol Channing a man' and got nothing.
And speaking of conspiracies, I just have to say ONE thing here.
Why is everybody on TV telling me not to look at that thing?
No, I'm serious. The man goes to such bizarre lengths to keep it under lock and key for so long. It's got people all upset. Then he releases it, and everybody on TV tells me, "It's out, OKAY? Now stop looking at it and let's focus on talking about fixing the economy which we can't fix anyway."
Why? No, really. Why? Isn't that why you release a high res pdf file for millions of people to see? Shouldn't they be ENCOURAGING people to pore over this thing? You want to see this thing? Go right ahead! You want to send in the forensic experts? Be my guest! I assure you they'll find it's perfectly authentic! Put all your doubts to rest once and for all!
Instead, EVERYBODY is saying, "Okay. It's out. Drop it. Now. And if you don't, everybody's going to hate you and call you crazy. And you don't want people to call you CRAZY, do you? Your reputation is VERY important to you and you wouldn't want anything to HAPPEN to it, WOULD YOU?"
Which naturally makes me even MORE suspicious of it! Why is everybody on TV telling me NOT to look too closely at this thing?!
Do you know what I mean? THAT'S what's making me crazy.
So the next step would be to cut the french fries and donuts and go back to salads and organic eggs and chicken and that sort of thing. I may try to find a balance... do Paleo for 5-6 days a week and have a pizza day. Or something like that. I've never felt better than when I cut out the grains and the sugar, but at the same time, I was also never as LEAN. And while cutting all body fat is the goal of most people, in my line of work, a little chunk, a little MASS, a little SIZE isn't necessarily seen as a BAD thing.
Besides, pizza is WAY cheaper than organic everything.
In other news, I did the first week of the Precept 'LORD, Where Are You When Bad Things Happen?' study and I think we're gonna hafta switch gears. I'd been hoping to lead a group at our church in this study, but dang. This study.
See, you expect a Bible study to be all sweetness and pleasantness and rainbows and bluebirds and stuff that's just supposed to make you feel GOOD.
Like the last one I completed (the darkest Bible study I've ever done EVER 'LORD, Heal My Hurts'), this one is unexpectedly HEAVY. And it's heavy because it's not skimping on the TRUTH. The problem is...
THEY CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!
Seriously. I don't think they can. Instead of being in agreement, I'm afraid the folks participating in the study would throw their hands up in politically correct horror when she compares sacrificing Israelite babies to Molech with modern-day abortion.
I may not be giving them enough credit. But then again, I've moved WELL beyond the scars I acquired from Southern Religion gone bad. Instead of being quite so defensive, I've learned to separate the facts from a study from the editorializing.
The #1 thing I'm dealing with right now is commentaries. People would rather read commentaries or full books on God rather than studying the Bible. As a result, they know what C.S. Lewis thinks about God (which is FINE! I LOVE that guy!) but the problem is they don't know for themselves what the Bible says about God. They wind up Biblically illiterate. People think I've been to seminary. No. I just found a teacher that I liked and started doing daily Bible studies. Not just READING though...actually STUDYING.
Might I encourage you to do the same?
In other news, I did a google search for 'is Carol Channing a man' and got nothing.
And speaking of conspiracies, I just have to say ONE thing here.
Why is everybody on TV telling me not to look at that thing?
No, I'm serious. The man goes to such bizarre lengths to keep it under lock and key for so long. It's got people all upset. Then he releases it, and everybody on TV tells me, "It's out, OKAY? Now stop looking at it and let's focus on talking about fixing the economy which we can't fix anyway."
Why? No, really. Why? Isn't that why you release a high res pdf file for millions of people to see? Shouldn't they be ENCOURAGING people to pore over this thing? You want to see this thing? Go right ahead! You want to send in the forensic experts? Be my guest! I assure you they'll find it's perfectly authentic! Put all your doubts to rest once and for all!
Instead, EVERYBODY is saying, "Okay. It's out. Drop it. Now. And if you don't, everybody's going to hate you and call you crazy. And you don't want people to call you CRAZY, do you? Your reputation is VERY important to you and you wouldn't want anything to HAPPEN to it, WOULD YOU?"
Which naturally makes me even MORE suspicious of it! Why is everybody on TV telling me NOT to look too closely at this thing?!
Do you know what I mean? THAT'S what's making me crazy.
Friday, April 08, 2011
April Update
So much to talk about. Where to begin?
BODY EXPERIMENT UPDATE
I'm now somewhere VERY close to 180. And we have a slight problem.
I'm completely unmotivated to re-enter the works-based religion of having a six-pack. I hate that stupid thing. It's funny. It's getting to be springtime up here in NYC and people are just itching to wear their latest not-clothes and show off their ripped bodies. Me, I continue to wear medium shirts that show to the world I'm magnificently average and have NOTHING to prove to ANYBODY. I'm not competing with you appearance-obsessed New Yorkers! I'm not playing your never-ending comparison game that only leads to self-loathing!! I feel relaxed, self-assured, and for the first time in five years my abs aren't constantly flexing.
That said, I'm done with the donuts and pizza. I'm going to see if I can maintain this current weight and put on some muscle mass while I'm wearing an extra 15 lbs.
For you Primal fiends out there, I did a TECHNICAL-Primal day yesterday.
Breakfast: 4 eggs with organic cheese, two spoonfuls of organic peanut butter, coffee with cream
Lunch: Small Tomato Cheddar soup and small salad from Hale and Hearty. Spinach, carrots, cucumbers, red peppers, bleu cheese, and a little shot of dressing
Snack: Organic baby carrots and two spoonfuls of peanut butter
Dinner: Chipotle burrito bowl with rice, beans, and guac
Yes. That's TECHNICALLY still Primal. I didn't eat ANYTHING (that I was aware of) that had wheat in it and I'm pretty sure the refined sugar was at a bare minimum. The 80/20 rule.
I didn't get hungry once yesterday. My energy levels were steady. I felt great. Yeah, I know. Beans, rice, peanut butter. First, I'm not paying $12.75 for almond butter when I can get the same amount of organic peanut butter for $3.50.
I'm just curious to know what's the ABSOLUTE LEAST I can get away with and still experience positive results. That and I'm not interested in having .3% body fat right now. I don't care if I'm eating legumes or dairy. My struggle has always putting mass ON, not taking it OFF. From my experience with Primal last year, this is NOT a diet that helps you bulk up. Everyone at CrossFit jumped on the Primal bandwagon and they all shriveled up. Yeah, the ones struggling to lose that bit of extra chunk now had totally flat stomachs, but the already-fit ones looked a little shriveled.
Job (the thing you do for money, not the guy from the Bible)
This is probably connected with the lack of motivation to get back in tip-top shape and remain a little chunky. But I'm tired of modeling. I'm really tired of it. I'm tired of the physical demands of the job and the pay not balancing out the costs of gym classes, protein shakes, etc., etc. I've been sitting for portraits this past month and it's turning my brain into tapioca.
Meanwhile, all my friends have families and babies and big-time careers. I realize I'm the most interesting friend ever--working at Dog Shows and NofriendoLand World and playing the ukulele and nude modeling--but I've just about had it.
Yes, you heard me. I want a boring office job. I want to type up memos. I want to do my work and get paid a nice salary and have health insurance and not have anybody yell at me. On the side, I'll write plays and do a show here and there and find places to be creative. Everybody else is moving on with their lives and doing stuff and moving into nice apartments and getting raises and having families... Meanwhile, I live as a pauper in NYC with no prospects for the future.
Plus, I can't afford CrossFit classes. How am I supposed to get back in shape without someone yelling at me, telling me to move my butt and pick up heavy stuff?
Bible Study
This is the best Bible study I've done yet. It's also pretty dark. Just when you think, "Okay, SURE, Kay Arthur. A sweet little lady like you couldn't possibly know anything about pain and suffering," she pulls out a story about someone who--I can't even say it, it's so awful. And not just one story. A BUNCH.
Suffice to say, this isn't the feel-good Bible study of the year, but it's changing the way I think. It's really excellent. And, surprise! it's all from the Bible. Sure, she ties it together with some anecdotes here and there, but the philosophy at Precept is getting people into the WORD--because man's words are just man's words and may be very nice and very true, but they're not the supernatural word of God. THAT'S what ministers to and transforms people.
I love these guys at Precept. Every Christian who is tired of impractical, overly-emotional Christianese needs to do inductive studies. I used to be majorly cynical about the Bible. Not anymore. It's really REAL. But until you experience it for yourself, you won't understand what I'm saying.
They're workshopping their new study of Ezekiel (part one!) in Chattanooga this summer. Anybody out there want to sponsor me? Or come with? I'm desperate to go! UFOs baby!
Portraits
Oh yeah. Here's what I sat for this past month.
Portrait #1 (above) is supposed to be a plainsman. I think I look like a very sad Mad Hatter
Portrait #2 is what I look like now. Shorter beard, long hair pulled back to avoid drawing comparisons to Renaissance Jesus as I knock people over on the sidewalks in Times Square
That's the update. Maybe I'll go for a walk to the pier on this Friday afternoon and think about life and where I'm going. Yeah. That sounds good. Oh yeah! And work on illustrations for my cool new book!
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