set fire to the third bar

Confession: Whenever "Set Fire to the Third Bar" by Snow Patrol and Martha Wainwright comes across my playlist, I have to listen to it at least three times. I'm not sure why.

Perhaps it's linked to why I would listen Brand New's "You Won't Know" repeatedly.
Or that day I left The Decemberist's "Mariner's Revenge Song" on repeat for about an hour.

Maybe I suffer from some sort of musical OCD.

eponine's lament

This past weekend was Mar's bachelorette party, which was basically a night out in New Hope accompanied by a scavenger hunt.

I've really got to let go of my need to win, as when it was determined that I was no longer in the lead with points, I went after a high scoring item: five hand written philosophies (from guys) regarding marriage. I had secured one earlier in the evening as a way to pass the time waiting for dinner to be served, and I saw opportunity present itself when in came a group of three girls and four guys, all of which were pretty approachable looking (no small feat in New Hope).

So I grabbed a stack of cocktail napkins from the bar and broke into their circle of conversation, readily making myself entertainment fodder for the gaggle of girls at the next table over.

Three of them got to work at once on their napkins, but the fourth was hesitant, and even distanced himself from the rest of the group as he thought his answer out. I started up conversation with one of the girls who happened to be sitting next me, asking general questions about how everyone in the group was connected, etc, and she mentioned that she was curious as to how they were responding to my request.

I offered her the three napkins I already had gotten back, and mentioned how I was still waiting for one more. Her response was that the one I was waiting for was the one she was most interested in. I asked if he was her boyfriend. She unapologetically answered, "No, but I'm hoping."

Mr. Hesitation ended up stirring up lots of interest the rest of the night.

After receiving such a blunt, honest response from this girl, I wanted to remove myself from the group, so I went over to him to see if I could just get a quick sentence scribbled down and be on my way. It was his hook.

The next three hours we ended up having a few more conversations.
His name is Greg.
Abbey, in a very un-Abbey manner point blank asks for his number.
Lisa keeps threatening me that I need to go over and talk to him more.

But I felt guilty.

The nameless, hopeful girl reminded me too much of me, and I didn't want to do that to her.

I've always identified with Eponine, the girl in the wings, hoping that one day, Marius would take notice and realize how much he loves her in return. And I think that eventually Marius would have taken notice of Eponine and loved her, but Cosette entered the picture ending all hope Eponine had and essentially dooming her.

Just one more day on her own.

on holiday

This afternoon at work there was a delightful change of pace when Abbey and I had to covertly build three new chairs (which we did in under an hour, because we generally rock). There's a long explaination as to why the Customer Service Manager and the Analyst had to quickly (and secretly) build these chairs, but that's whole other chapter of crazy.

Though honestly I think everyone was in a fine form, what with half the office out and the rest of us giddy with the promise of an extended weekend. I especially appreciated the e-mail thread debating whether it would be better to spend "stimulate-the-economy" money on going to the UK and following the The Rocket Summer tour or going to New Zealand and somehow ending up getting involved with the production of Voyage of The Dawn Treader.

I ended up voting for New Zealand, deciding that once production wrapped, I could become a shepherdess, a profession I think I have grossly romanticized.

oh the possibilities

My brain is reeling, no where close to winding down for the night and allowing me to sleep.

Three (four if counting students' thoughts) people have suggested that I apply for the youth pastor/director position that has opened up. I thought about it fleetingly before it came apparent that I wasn't qualified as A) I'm a college drop out and B) I'm a woman.

But it keeps popping up, and I am not a believer in coincidence. I think that I need to seriously reassess my stance to youth ministry, because even I'm not trying to think about it, God doesn't seem to want not to think about it.

First and foremost, I want to serve God above all else. Whatever it is I do to earn a living, I want to do for God's glory and glorifying God is not limited to full-time ministry. But of all the possibilities for what I could be doing with my life, with my time, youth ministry has been a constant. It's been one of the few constants in my life for the past six years....I've moved several times, changed schools, dropped out of school and have tried my hand from tour guide to barista to now analyst, and done all this with the thought of "How will this affect my involvement with Cornerstone?" as a highly weighted question in the decision making process.

I love God. I love these students I grown to know more and more over the years.

But, me? Even during my time at PBU I never thought of myself in the position...my idea was that maybe in a few years down the road, some sort of associate youth position at a church that already has an established youth pastor might open up and that would be a very cool thing if that second person for the job would be a female...aka me. But then I'd not be apart of Grace Point, it would be a another church.

It's strange that all these things seem to be colliding together at the same time.

When I moved into town last year, I convinced myself that this would be my last year here. That I would spend the time building my portfolio, doing the research and come the summer of 2008 hit the open road and write.

That year is coming to a close in three weeks...

My notions and fears of unfaithfulness seem to be a hitting a pinnacle.

Tonight, when I looked in the mirror, I didn't see a girl; I saw a woman.

So many thoughts, so many ideas, and dreams, and hopes (and always their counterparts of doubts, anxieties, and fears) are muddling my not too long ago clarity in thinking.

Lord, let me have the ears to hear, the eyes to see, and the courage to follow.

of minor prophets...

I borrowed my title from a Pedro the Lion song, because it's been running thtough my head all day. Along with The Rocket's Summer "Run To You" as they both have similiar themes. Which oddly enough seems to just be a general running theme in my brain in general.

The idea of being unfaithful haunts me and apparently keeps me up at night.

And now it's late o'clock and I'm still not ready to sleep despite being very tired.

Does haivng faith mean that you'll never stray or that if you do wander away you'll end back where or strayed from, or is it some sort of melding of those two ideas?