Holy nudges

I don't know what the term is, and I have a feeling "holy nudges" isn't the exact term I'm looking for, but it's got to be close.

See, every once in a while I think, "you know, I should really email/text/call/visit/send a card to [fill in the blank]."  And...  I don't always do it.  Then next thing I know, they're reaching out to me, telling me they've been thinking about me.

We probably all do this (at least, I hope so, otherwise now I'll just feel awkwardly like I'm the only heathen amongst us).  I call them holy nudges rather than "passing thoughts" because it seems like time and time again, the Lord gives me the chance to be the one to reach out first, and then BAM, I've been putting it off and the other person reaches out to me.  It's like the Lord is letting me know that we're thinking about each other and He'd be happy for me if I could be the one to reach out first if only I were paying attention.

That happens a lot.  And I'm not saying every "passing thought" is a holy nudge, but I will say that when my city took out an annoying traffic light near my house I thought I really should send a little thank-you note to the city because it was really so nice that it was gone and then I got lazy and didn't send a card and then they put the light back in because they thought nobody cared (also, they thought it was dangerous).  Now, I'm not saying they would have kept it just because I wrote them a note, but I'm saying it would have been nice if I'd written them a note, and I'm pretty sure the Lord wanted me to see tangibly that when something or someone comes to mind it wouldn't be that hard to reach out, and perhaps we would even end up making a difference.

But in this increasingly lazy-fied world, it's hard.  I mean, I don't even know where I would have sent the note to the city.  And sometimes I want to send a card but it's like, "ugh, who knows how to find their address, anyhow" and then I just justify it by saying it's too hard.  Or (my personal favorite) I decide there's no way to get in touch with them except via facebook and facebook is so impersonal anyhow that there's no way I should feel obligated to send a facebook message.  And, of course, what that means is I can count on getting a facebook message from them and yes, it's always personal and meaningful and yes I feel convicted.

Oh, guys.  I have so far to go.

My type of book

This is a photo from Guyana.  I'm sure you're jumping wildly about with excitement thinking, "Hot dog!  She's going to tell a story from that trip she took where she didn't tell us any stories?  She's finally thought of one?  And she's going to share it and show us that she loves her blog readers just as much/more than she loves her facebook friends, even though she usually dislikes facebook and loves Google, thereby we infer that she should love her (Google-powered) blog readers extra-much and eschew her facebook friends?  This is that time?"

Uh, no.  You should probably stop over-thinking things.  I still don't have Guyana stories.  And why would you use the expression "hot dog"?  That seems a little outdated.  Not like I'm judging you, I'm just pointing that out.

Now that it's established that this story doesn't actually relate to Guyana (except to say: this picture was taken in Guyana), allow me to continue.

This is a photograph of my brother and I, reading.  Is this unusual?  Indeed, it is not.  We tend to read all the time.  Stop light?  Time to read!  Family gathering gone long?  Book!  Airport?  Bound and printed is how I like my material, thanks.

So anyhow, we read.  The whole family, really.  My younger sister has a love/hate relationship with reading (I know, WHAT?  I just stop at the love/ and pretend that the slash is part of the word.  Oh me?  I have a loveslash relationship with reading.  You?) but recently I got her hooked on The Mysterious Benedict Society books, and she's nearly done with the four books (three plus the prequel) and she only started the series on Friday.  It makes me so proud.

Anyhow, the book she was reading in Guyana was some book published by Reader's Digest a while ago about the human body.  Seemed like a book I'd probably not rather read, though my brother and I both read books of my choosing while in Guyana, and they weren't exactly a laugh a minute.  I thought her book seemed sort of boring, she thought my books were boring.  Figure that.  You can't really see in the photo (see?  the picture actually has a purpose) but we're both reading books that you may not have perused yet.  Mine is called Just My Type, and his is called The Elegant Universe.

I have to go on record as saying that Just My Type was a quicker read than The Elegant Universe.  Just My Type was a book about fonts, and it was very well written.  The author went through the history of fonts ever since Gutenberg made them popular, and it even has a section on the interrobang.  My favorite ever.  The Elegant Universe is about the string theory, which I find quite interesting, however... it gets a little long.

Confession time.  I'm still not finished reading The Elegant Universe.  I got it out from the library around Easter time, but didn't have time to read it, so I returned it and got it out again before Guyana.  Seeing as my brother didn't think to bring a book (WHAT?) on the trip, I lent him mine, and I read my other book--the font book--and he read the string theory one.  He didn't finish it either.  But I still intend to finish it.  It really is a good book.  Honestly.  I actually laughed out loud in one part.

I'm such a nerd.

But anyhow, that's sort of my whole point in this story.  I sometimes weird myself out.  Here's the thing:  I (sadly) fall prey to reading Karen Kingsbury/Beverly Lewis/pick a Christian author and I've probably read a book by him/her thing.  But I've been trying to read more informative books and less pointlessness recently.  Not that I think there's something wrong with Christian fiction (I'm... not one of those people.  I understand that Philippians 4:8 says "whatsoever things are true," but I still read fiction, even in light of that), but sometimes I take stock of my life and think, "Hm.  I don't have a lot of education, but I do read.  So I should educate myself via words.  That much I can do."  So I read things like The Elegant Universe.

But I don't always like reading books like The Elegant Universe.  I get halfway through and think, "Brian.  Oh, Brian.  WHY ARE YOU ONLY NOW GETTING TO THE PART ABOUT STRING THEORY!?"  (May I just interject that this would be a perfect place for an interrobang?  Do you see why I miss it so much?  Seriously, I cannot believe that it didn't take!  It sorrows me!)  Because seriously, the author (Brian, in case you somehow missed that, and thought I fondly gave the actual book a name) spends the whole first half of the book discussing either the theory of general relativity or quantum mechanics.  I understand why he had to lay so much groundwork, but after a while it got to the point where I just wished he'd, well, get to the point.  So anyhow, when I'm halfway through such books, and furrowing my brow and making solemn promises to myself that no child of mine will ever have the name Brian I think what am I doing?

And then I get all guilty.  Am I reading nerdy books because I actually am tired of Karen Kingsbury and cohorts?  Or do I just like to read smart books because it's a nifty conversation starter?  Or do I just really like to learn things?  Am I being pretentious?  Does Brian Greene really have to go into so much detail?

Sorry.  That last question clearly isn't in relation to most books.

I just have to evaluate my motives every once in a while.  I've pretty much decided that I actually want to read the books, and I'm not just being pretentious.  Because I've tried having conversations about nerdy things, and it never works, and then I just feel awkward.  Actually, I take that back.  I have a cousin who actually understands the string theory.  I was talking to him about it, and I was like, "Sweet!  Give me the condensed version!  It'll save me from finishing the book I started!"  And... as it turns out, he doesn't have a condensed version.  It was rather lengthy, and just as we got to the actual string theory part (which is to say, he laid the groundwork, the part I've actually gotten through in the book I'm reading)... our conversation got cut off.

And he lives many hours away from me.

So now I have to finish my book.

Ugh.

Thing is, technically I could just read the wikipedia article about it and call it a day.  But... I'm obsessive.  I can't not finish a book I've started.  Actually, I've actually been able to not finish books in recent years, which I count as being a very grown-up thing to do, but it sort of hurts me.  And at this point I think I'll probably go crazy if I don't finish this book.  I've been working hard on it.

How did I start this topic?  Oh yes.  I saw the book on my dresser (conveniently under my stack of Bible, Kindle, and journal) and furrowed my eyebrows at it.  And figured that I would talk about it (a lot) in my blog, and maybe that would count as reading a few pages or something.

Doesn't usually work that way.  Sorrow.

In other news, I must disclaimer this message.  Thing is, these books are interesting.  I have learned a lot thus far in The Elegant Universe, and I learned a lot while reading Just My Type (the author is from England, so he talks a lot about the fonts they use on signs around London and stuff, and he would have photos of said signs in the book, and I would feel well-traveled because I'd seen those very signs.  Even though every person who's been to London or traveled even a few miles on the M1 has seen those signs, which technically makes it way less cool that I've seen them.  Though let's be honest.  It was cool that I'd seen those signs), but I must admit that neither author is a Christian.  The science book teaches evolution like it's a fact.  Scientists.  Pfft.  The font book casually references typographers traveling about with girlfriends.  Sinners.  Pfft.

Problems I didn't have with Karen Kingsbury, bless her heart.  (And I'm really not trying to pick on her.  She's just well known, thereby an easy reference point.)

Maybe the moral of the story is that I should finally buckle down and read Darby's synopsis.  My mother had read it by the time she was my age.  Virtuous woman.

Food for thought.

Suddenly I realize that I didn't have a point with this rather lengthy post.  So I'll make a point.

.

Haha, get it?  Periods are points.

I... need more sleep.

It's about time

I've sort of been procrastinating recently about getting caught up here.  Not because I don't want to talk about Guyana and how wonderful it was, but because I've pretty much explained how wonderful it was to pretty much everyone I know.  It's one of those things where after a while you dread hearing, "How was it?"  I just picked random stories and would tell like one story to each person who asked, so people now know random little things about it.

Also, not only did I spend a lot of time telling everyone about it, but I also spent a long time captioning my facebook album so as to cut down on the explanations.  So I wasted all of my residual Must-Tell-Everything! feelings on facebook.

Crazy social networking.  (PS, I apologize to everyone I ever scoffed at for being addicted to Pinterest.  You were right.  It's addicting and awesome.)

Anyhow, so what happens to my blog readers?  Basically you got the raw end of the deal.  I'm not going to copiously go into details of everything.  I'll say some things (still thinking of what stories I'm not tired of telling, give me a minute) and show you some pictures and then move on to my regularly scheduled rambles (well, as regularly scheduled as I know how to be).

So, we'll start with a family photo of, well, our family.  We're standing on a savanna.  Randomly.  In Guyana.  So... yeah.

Next is a photo of me standing in front of St. George's Cathedral.  It's a really tall wooden building.  The only of it's kind, which being interpreted is to say, the tallest wooden freestanding structure.  I'm not really sure what the significance of that is, but anyhow, it's white and wooden.  That much I could see with my own two eyes. 

 Finally, some palm trees.  We were technically (I think?) in the jungle or something, so there were a lot of palm trees.  Also, coconuts.  Also, pineapples.  The pineapples (they call them "pines," though why they can't say the apple, I'm not sure) were literally the best I've ever had.  We cry when we see pineapples in the States now, because they just aren't as good.  Sob.

So you know how I said I was going to think of a story to tell?  Still nothing.  If anybody is interested in my facebook album (complete with rather lengthy captions) please let me know, and I can send it to you.  If we're not already friends on facebook.  Otherwise... I'll think of something more inspiring to say next time I deign to update this blog.  Sigh.

I don't seem to have a title for this

I was reading last week's offering from PluggedIn, and saw this statistic:

"Nielsen estimates that Americans currently spend 53 billion minutes a month on Facebook, a number spread among 150 million users. When you add up all those minutes, it equals a whopping 100,000 years of Facebook time per month by U.S. users. Individually it averages out to 11.6 minutes per day."

Needless to say, I was flummoxed.  The thought of so very many minutes spent on facebook just... I can't even fathom.  I'll admit, I have facebook.  I go on about once a week, or every other week, if I have the inclination.  When a big event just happened I tend to go on more often in order to see photos and what-not, but that much time is just too much time.

Then again, it's people like me who make the average so low.  You know there are some people out there who use more than their average of 11.6 minutes a day.  In fact, when I DO go on, that's probably about how long I spend.  I look at all the birthdays I missed, write cutsey little messages, and click on some of the most looked at photo albums.  Done and done.  The whole chatting thing makes me want to cry, and the whole looking through everyone's status updates thing makes me feel like my life is slowly slipping away.

I have nothing against facebook (when used properly), so don't get me wrong.  I'm not saying you shouldn't have it (unless you don't want it, in which case you should stand strong in opposition thereof!), but what I am saying is that it shouldn't be such a big part of so many lives.  That's all.

As for me, I think I'm going to go spend 11.6 minutes napping.  Ciao!

Technological pressures (or, lack thereof)

I've pretty much decided that I'm not going to post on the weekends, obviously. But also, there's no way I'm going to feel obliged to post on a regular basis at all. For one, I find it difficult to check my email every day, and all those social networking sites? Not so much. Of course, I use that word "all" fairly liberally, because I only belong to one, but I do go for weeks at a time without logging on to it.

Which is ironic, because this is a time period where I will have more time then I ever will again in my whole life. Well, that's presuming the Lord comes before I get old and have lots of time again. But for now, I have a bunch of time, but I don't use it for computer-related things. Which I'm OK with. I semi-recently decided it would be cool to read through the Bible in a year (I usually just read and see how long it takes) but I decided that since I do have all this time, I should read more than I usually do. But since I don't have any sort of inkling regarding how much I have to read to complete the Bible in a year, I just sort of read random amounts at a time. I know that if you're doing the traditional in-a-year thing, you're supposed to read three chapters a day, and five on Sunday, but since I began reading the Bible this time in August, and didn't decide to finish it in twelve months until February or something, well, I have no idea how much that sets me behind. Every once in a while I'm like "according to the page numbers, I have X amount of pages left, so that means..." but since I'm bad at math, well, I never get any farther than that.

Which is a terrible thing to say, I know. I mean, it would be appalling if somebody were like "I never really learned how to read well, so I just don't read, or maybe I've forgotten how to read by now" so it's awful to use my lame-o math excuse. But I am fairly bad at math, no joke. Which is why I have my "gmail goggles" feature turned on where on late nights, I have to do math questions before I can send my emails. I have it on the easiest level, but it's something, right?