idontbelieveingrammar

Somewhere in the attic is a yellow pinstriped shirt with a front pocket. In which I kept a little black wallet with a red and yellow card. I have long since lost my line flags, but still have and occasional wear the knee high black socks with the tell-tale white stripes across the top. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I used to ref. Soccer. And I was pretty bad at it and mostly only reffed 12 and under games or college intermurals. But I had the uniform and the whistle and my very own stopwatch and the power to make a break a game for a team. And they don’t give just anyone that yellow shirt (actually anyone can buy one), but you have to take a class and pass a test to earn your badge. Or get official jobs. And there are forms to fill out with every game. And you get an awful knee tan. And everyone pretty much hates you. The only plus was a decent workout and some cash in your hand at the end of the day. My days reffing taught me a few things: That the angles on the field and ...

"How is that hardly any major religion has looked at science and concluded, 'This is much better than we thoguht! The universe is much bigger than our prophets said, grander, more subtle, more elegant?' Instead they say,'No, no, no! My god is little god and I want him to stay that way.' A religion old or new, that stressed the magnificance of the Universe as revealed by modern science might be able to draw forth reserves of reverence and awe hardly tapped by the conventional faiths." The Big Blue Dot - Carl Sagan. I am teacher. I’ve brought that up plenty on here. But still usually people that don’t know me get confused. They assume that I am an English teacher. Which is laughable to me because I am not a good speller. Am queen of the fragment (see that was one) and use more than my share of be verbs ( a big writing no no).Turns out I teach science. I even have a Masters degree in it. And I have sat through all the classes where the biology professors beli...

The prosperity gospel has always made me a little sick to my stomach. Not that I don’t like the idea that if I ask God for a Cadillac, or big screen TV or new wardrobe and keep asking and have enough faith. That God will deliver. Trust me, I like stuff. A lot. It is kind of a problem for me. And for most Americans. But. I don’t think God particularly wants to give me a big check or TV or new car just because I believed enough that he would. Because what happens when he doesn’t come through. What if the check doesn’t come. Or the test results are negative. Or when the phone rings in the middle of the night. Where does that leave my faith or my God. Is it big enough to still believe after that? And because I think there are plenty of people out there with way more faith than me. Living with way less. Praying really important prayers. That aren’t always answered the way we wish. And that it has absolutely NOTHING to do with faith. But mostly about a really big God whose timi...

A number I don’t know on my cell. I should know better than to answer, But I do anyways. Some guy from an awards claims center promising me my choice of 500$ cash, a Hawiaan vacation, or a new car. I immediately looked for my out. But he did have my name and cell phone number and claimed I registered at a Rangers game. Doubtful. But I did go to a Rangers game. And when I was little I used to dream of Ed McMahan showing up at my door with a big giant check and a television crew. With balloons and confetti. I mean somebody had to win the publishers clearning house. Why couldn’t it be me? So I kept listening. Little did I know that during my three minute phone conversation with a poor unfortunate soul in a calling center, that my son was coloring all the drawer knobs black with a sharpie in the kitchen. And he assured me that one of those glorious prizes was mine. And I didn’t jump up and down. My heart didn’t race. I didn’t go to my door and look for Ed McMahan. All I ...

Lately I haven’t felt very productive in most areas of my life. I have been going to all kinds of work trainings and I always leave a little conflicted. Like I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. That maybe I should quit and really try to write or serve in some bigger ways. That maybe I should teach at a rougher school down the road. Loving bigger and harder. Or that maybe I should be just doing my current job better. Because really, I kind of like where I am at. But maybe start actually getting papers graded on time and getting lesson plans turned in for a change.  That I should be the ones teaching the workshops, rather than sitting in them, and using that Masters degree of mine. I keep waiting to do something with my life, And the writing is always at a stalemate. I still have no idea what I want to do with it. And so I just keep doing the same things. And the same things are good things. And my kids are little, and probably the most ...

A few weeks ago, I had coffee with an old friend. Actually she is an old student. One of my firsts and my favorites. And now she is all grown up and about to take off to join the Peace Corps. (and I am super jealous) So we caught up over some joe, while we were both in town. And our quick cup of coffee turned into over a few hours. We talked about travel and family and books. And faith, and doubt. And she is at that age and stage where it is all exciting. It is all a book waiting to be written. Where you can’t help but see God’s hand everywhere you look. And she has been growing and reading and asking a lot of good questions. Some of the questions I have been asking myself. And at least three times she led into conversations with, “how do you resolve….” grace, but the gospel’s obvious calls to action. passion for justice, while friends and family sometimes seem to be more passionate about the new TV lineup, or shopping or whatever. Trusting and waiting, with going and doin...

My son is in the why phase. We’ve been here a while actually. And most of the time it makes me want to pull my hair out. I try to give him answers when I can. Because I think all that asking is part of how he learns. He is a sponge soaking up every little piece of information that he can. Even if I think it isn’t important or doesn’t matter. He wants to know. The conversations are frustrating because we always get to a point where I don’t know or am exhausted of talking in circles. And cave in and say just because. Which oddly enough satisfies him, at least until he thinks of his next question. If you have never lived with a 4-5 year old something as simple as cooking hamburger meat involves at least a dozen whys. “Why are you cooking the meat” So we can eat it? Why? Because I am hungry and thought you might want dinner? But Why? So we can grow and have energy? Why? Because your cells need energy from food to do work? Why? …I contemplate talking teaching him about ATP and cellular res...

Recently I met an old friend for lunch. He was actually my senior high prom date. He wasn’t just my prom date, but had been my friend for a good part of high school. And our group has mostly stayed in touch through the years. But not him. Even though we live in the same big metroplex, I hadn’t seen him in almost 15 years. At prom, He even won some kind of senior superlative, Mr. BHS or something like that. In other words, he was well-liked, nice, funny and smart. And it helped that he drove a Camero. We didn’t break up or have a falling out. He kind of just disappeared. And not just from me, but from everyone. And I had looked for him. At class reunions. On myspace. And eventually, only about a year ago, he finally showed up on facebook. When he did, I suggested we get together for dinner or something. And he responded with a really awkward email. Explaining that he was gay. Warning me. Trying to let me out of my dinner invitation if I wanted. And I already knew this. Possibly I had ev...