Loveable, Furry, Old Grover

This was one of my favorite books as a child, and one that I credit (no lie) with making me love reading as much as I do. One of my best childhood memories i my mother reading this to me, and barely being able to get through the book because I was laughing so hard.

It is a very sweet and hysterical little story about facing your fears, and I love love love love it.

I am, however, a little embarrassed to admit that I checked it out from the library yesterday and read it aloud to my husband on the way home.

Oh, and while I was checking it out, I asked my husband "And do you know who the monster at the end of the book is?!" His response was "You?"

Thanks honey. For the record, it's Grover. Duh. My librarian, the one who knows my name, thought it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard and then told me I need to work at the library because she loves me. If only, if only, I say.

It's not a total loss, though, because he DID laugh when I read it to him. More at me than the book, I think.

Harry Potter Re-read (minor spoilers)

I am a self-proclaimed Harry Potter fanatic. I have frequented Mugglenet, read fanfiction, written fanfiction, predicted plot points and loopholes, shipped for Harry/Ginny and Ron/Hermione, attended Midnight premiers, and bemoaned omissions in movie adaptations. Now that all seven books are released and I have had time to heal from the heartbreak brought on by the end of the series, I am doing a reread. This, of course, means that all my other reading projects are on hold, since I feel that I can do the series the most justice by reading it strait through.

It's interesting, the things one notices when rereading the series. For instance, in Sorcerers Stone, for the first half of the book, one would think this was just going to be a happy story about a young wizard and his jaunts through a new world. While Voldemort is mentioned in passing in the beginning, he isn't introduced as a current threat until halfway through the book, when Harry serves detention in the Fobidden Forest. Another presence that is surprisingly absent is Malfoy. We don't run into him much in the first book, it's just known that he is a terrible little boy who wants a good beating.

Chamber of Secrets gives us our first clue, briefly, in passing, almost unnoticed, to the secrets we don't discover until books six and seven, when Dumbledore is asked "Who is opening the Chamber of Secrets?" and he answers "Not who. The question is how" To one who knows how the story ends, it is as if we see Dumbledore's wheels begin to turn and watch him realize that this threat is greater than he imagined.

I am picking up the third book at the library today. My original copies were all first editions, and, sadly, were read, literally, to pieces. Prisoner of Azkaban, which my sister still has, has to be read in two separate pieces, as the middle has fallen out. It is common, when reading that particular copy, to have to keep a pile of loose pages next to you, in order to search through them each time you encounter a missing bit of dialogue.

Hopefully I'll remember to post my observations as I work my way through the series. Stay tuned.

Evangalism

Evangelicals are an interesting lot. They also get a large amount of bad press, so I thought I'd come to their aid and clear up a few things.

The problem is that there is a great aversion among the general public to people forcing their opinions on other people. Usually this doesn't actually translate to forcing anything. Rather, it is a euphemism for "They think I'm wrong!" We, sadly, live in a world that believes the logical fallacy that all viewpoints are equally true, and that if you have the audacity NOT to believe that all viewpoints are equally true, you are forcing your opinion on people.

By the way, I call it a logical fallacy because it is. All viewpoints cannot be equally true. It's impossible. It's closely related to the idea that something is true for you because you believe it. Sadly, as much as I may believe the sky is green with red polka dots does not make it so, even for me. But I digress.

Evangelicals. There are several factions of them that take it too far. The Westboro Baptist Church comes to mind (I will not link to that horrific website. Google it if you're curious), as do the many crazies who stand on street corners, damning all they see to a fiery eternity. These are not the evangelicals I would have you think of. Think of the quieter evangelicals. The ones who cling to their faith and truly believe that you should believe in it as well. The ones who may have argued with you (for the record, they shouldn't have) over Christianity's validity and grew increasingly frustrated as you refused to convert. I have been that evangelical. We are seen as a bit pathetic and misguided. Why can't they just let people think what they wish and leave everyone to their own beliefs? Why do they have to insist that everyone believe as they do? What judgemental people!

Here's the scoop on that. Most evangelicals are not aiming for judgemental. They ascribe to a belief that, for one, claims inherently to be the only way to salvation. There is no way around that claim in Christianity, and it is made, not by Christians themselves, but by the cornerstone and deity of the faith! Christ did not claim to be a way, or even the best way. He claimed to be the ONLY way. For two, they are commanded to tell other people. Not asked, not suggested. Commanded. For three, you have to understand the way the evangelical sees the world. The evangelical see themselves (or should see themselves, if they are honest) as a sinner whose only salvation was Christ. Therefore, they look around at the world and see a world full of people headed for a terrible, horrific fate. To an evangelical, it's as if the whole world is dying of cancer, and they have been handed the cure, but no one will believe them. An evangelical feels like they are screaming "This doctor cured me! He gave me the cure, and I don't have to die! I'll take you to him! He can cure you too!!" and everyone else just says "I don't see this doctor. I don't believe you!" as they continue toward a painful death, trying myriad other cures that do not work or work for only a little while, when the true cure is so easily given. Try for a moment to empathize with how frustrating that must be, for someone who truly believe in only two roads, and sees the majority of the world headed down the wrong one.

The evangelistic spirit does not seek to be right, or to "win" by converting X amount of souls. Yes, there will be those whose pride gets in the way and who debate with you and lose sight of the message, but cut these some slack. By their own admission, they are not perfect, only forgiven.

Sadly, today's evangelical finds little opportunity to proselytize loudly. In today's world of "believe what you will, but leave me alone", the mere mention of Jesus's name is enough to shut down the communicative channels, sometimes permanently. Most have been reduced to being "lifestyle witnesses", living well and hoping someone will someday ask.

I am a terrible evangelical Christian. I struggle with the daily life of someone who strives to be like Christ. I struggle internally with my faith. But I know the road I am on leads to paradise, and I wish you were on it with me. To all those I have not done a good enough job of telling this to, forgive me.

This post is dedicated to Daniel Ian Rosoff, for whom I did not do enough. For him, I was and am burdened with a love that is as close to Christ's love for humanity as I ever care to come. I pray constantly that someone better than I will show him the way to Christ.

It is also dedicated for Kicae, for whom I did just enough. I look forward to the day I see him again, and we will need no interpreter.

I love the girl who writes Barefoot Foodie. I hate her a little too, because she is riotously funny, something I will, sadly, never be.

I'm supposed to be reading Emma right now. Or The Count of Monte Cristo. I'm procrastinating.

Emma apparently inspired the movie Clueless, which I have never seen. The Count of Monte Cristo inspired the movie The Count of Monte Cristo, which I have seen, and also which has Jesus in it. It really does.

Anyway, That's all for today. Have a super one.

Temptation

I followed a link today only to have myself redirected to a picture on facebook. It was a horrifying picture, which is what I get, I suppose.

Anyway, according to the little red flags at the top of the page, I have four messages and something like 13 notifications. It was all I could do not to say "To heck with Lent! I'm not a Catholic!!"

But I remained strong and navigated away.

I'm not sure what it says about my life that I am suffering withdrawels from digital media. It's a little sad, really.

Audiobooks

I rediscovered Audiobooks last month, during an unsuccessful hunt for the book "Marley and Me" in print at my local library. They had it only on Audiobook, and so, being that I had a "Winter Book Challenge" challenge to complete, I checked it out.

This is not a review of Marley and Me. If it were, I would just have to tell you that I hate dogs, but I still spent most of this book in tears. Also the guy who reads it must have been someones cousin or something, because he is the most stoic and most gay reader of audiobooks that I have ever heard . A stoic gay is truly something to be heard.

I digress. I'm on my fourth audiobook at the moment, Alice I Have Been, by Melanie Benjamin (incidentally, this is a pen name, which is proclaimed loudly in her author bio, right next to her real name. Tell me, is there even a point in writing under a pen name if you're just going to tell everyone who you are anyway?).

The thing I've grown to love about audiobooks, especially ones told in the first person, is that it is (obviously) like someone telling you their own story. It seems a little silly to say that, but it's truly what I love about them. I connect to the characters better, and i all feels a little more real to me when I listen on audiobook.

The obvious trouble with audiobooks is that so far, almost all of them have made me cry, and, as everyone knows, the moment you begin to cry in your car, you begin to feel that there is a giant yellow arrow pointing to you, alerting all the other drivers in the vicinity to your weepiness. I actually play it up a little, hoping that someone in the next car will feel oh-so-sorry for me. I'm an attention whore like that.

Lent

Lent.

My Husband and I celebrate, if you can call 40 days of self-denial "celebration". Which I can't.

This year, despite my mother-in-law's urging to "take something on" instead of give something up (As I told my mother, there are only so many slots in my life, and they are all full), I am giving up Facebook. My sweet link to the outside world. My dear facebook. I'm not a face-to-face social animal. I need the protection of the internet to form "meaningful" "relationships" with other "people".

I'm a little broken up over it, actually.

Paul is giving up video games, which I know is as hard for him as giving up facebook is for me. I can see this while thing ending in a giant compromise about 20 days in, for both of us.

In place of video games and facebook, we are starting the Love Dare, which we began on Valentine's Day. It's endorsed by Kirk Cameron, who is, dare I say, the Tom Cruise of Christianity, albeit slightly less creepy.

Also I need to start reading my Bible again. Apparently there's some good stuff in there.