LadyBurg

The price of my obsession

Apparently its my toenail. 

I've started running more seriously.  I've run on and off for years but all of a sudden, I'm craving the run.  I'm even thinking of entering races, which is a little silly because I'm a pretty slow runner.  But I like to have goals and I like to set them high. 

In order to begin "training," I'm working on increasing my total weekly mileage.  I've actually increased my total rather dramatically (although carefully) this week.  Did I mention I'm craving the run? 

Tuesday my toe nail looked a little funny - raised up a bit.  Wednesday, I noticed an odd blister forming under the nail.  I then asked a friend who is a serious runner if he had ever lost a toenail.  "Yup.  Lots.  Its a hazard of the run."  So I turned to the Internet, where one should get all their information, and read up on running and toenails. Turns out its common to lose a toenail because your toes are repeatedly jammed into the toe box of your shoes.  Now, I can't feel this while running but it makes sense. 

The article told me to drain the blister (gross!) and eventually the nail will fall off.  In 3 or so months, I should have a lovely new toenail to run off. 

So I'm gonna lose a toenail.  Its a bit gross and will create a problem with my pedicure obsession but honestly, I'm just a tad pleased.  As another friend recently told me, "Its a badge of honor."  So I plan to wear it proudly and even let it show through my new cute brown peep toe heels. 

Angry People

I know I almost hit her.  It scared me maybe more than it scared her.  She was in my blind-spot.  I checked but I didn't see her.  Fortunately, I saw her just in time and swerved out of her lane.  I gave her what I think of as the universal sign for both "I'm sorry" and "thanks."  You know, the right arm raised in a little wave.  I wanted to stay out of her way but I still needed to move into the left lane.  I needed to turn.  I was headed to work and work requires that particular left turn.  So I pulled in front of her and turned left.  She honked for what seemed like the 10th time and flipped me off.  So angry.  I hadn't meant to hurt her or scare her and yes, I know what it feels like to have someone unexpectedly move into your lane.  It is very upsetting.  But I didn't mean it. I simply didn't see her. 

Today I watched a guy on a bike pull up to an intersection.  He stopped and motioned a car to go ahead, all the while looking very pissed off.  I watched as he crossed in front of me obviously talking to all motorists.  As he made his last sprint across the street he raised his hand and flipped us all off.  He was so angry and yet none of us were out of place.  We were simply obeying the same traffic lights he was subject to. 

It occurred to me as I watched both incidents that such anger was unnecessary and in the end affected only those who were angry.  Life is full of people pulling out in front of you.  Life is full of cars and yes, this makes biking more dangerous, but is it worth the health of your own spirit?  Does it warrant such fury? 

I too have yelled and even flipped-off drivers, but in the end I feel no better.  I am left shaking with fury.  My spirit feels hollow.  The anger is not worth it.  Sure, there are times when one must be angry and act with righteous indignation, but surely a young woman in a blue Honda that obviously did not mean to come into your lane does not deserve your fury.  Surely she is not worth that much energy. 

I never meant to stop blogging

I just did.  I began to write less in March and April and then on May 22nd I posted, fully intending to post again - but I didn't. 

Its not that I have nothing to say.  Anyone who knows me knows I always have something to say.  Its more that I haven't felt like writing or saying anything here.  I miss reading blogs. I miss being connected to all of you.  I miss getting comments.  But I haven't been able to bring myself back. 

Today I was preparing a post for a work related blog (our Theology on Tap young adult group) and all of a sudden I found myself looking at my LadyBurg blog.  For the first time in over two months I felt like posting a quick note. 

So, I'm not sure if I'm back or not.  I might be, if this feeling continues.  Or I might go quiet again.  I've thought of deleting LadyBurg but want to keep the door open.  I might want to come back.  I've enjoyed blogging, I like my bloggy friends, so I want to keep the door open just a little bit longer - just in case.  

Dr. Burg's Graduation

Dr. Burg graduated last Saturday.  He was officially made Dr. on August 31st so I thought the graduation ceremony would be a bit anti-climatic.  I mean, I had already thrown a surprise graduation party.  You can't get much better than that!  I figured we had done our celebrating. 

But the day was perfect.  It was 77 degrees with a slight breeze in the City with the White House.  The graduation ceremony was outside on the steps of the Basilica.  We arrived in just enough time to pick up his doctoral robe - the big billowy kind with three velvet stripes on each arm.  His hat was velvet with six sides rather than four.  As I watched him put on the robe, I knew we needed this day.  We needed to celebrate once again. 

Originally Dr. Burg's parents were supposed to join us but his dad had a mandatory heart cath just days before the ceremony (he's fine) so I was the only one there to witness the occasion.  The graduates processed with the doctoral students at the end, right before the faculty in their elegant multi-colored doctoral robes.  I stationed myself along the walkway and took picture after picture, feeling a bit like the paparazzi. 

After all the bachelors and masters students were recognized (by asking each department to stand), the doctoral students were invited to join the faculty on the stairs of the basilica.  I, wanting to get a good picture, marched myself to the front of the gathering and stood ready to capture Dr. Burgs moment in the sun.  When the called his name, I pumped my fist in a very lady-like way and snapped a picture.  Funny enough, Dr. Burg was standing only feet from the Archbishop of DC. 



After the school's graduation and the department's graduation, we spent time taking pictures of ourselves. I didn't want him to take off the robe until it was well documented.  As we tried to get the perfect self-portrait, random people would walk by and offer to take our picture.  Others walked by and said, "congratulations." 

It was a perfect day.  I was so proud.  I cried a bit and at moments thought they should hand me a diploma as well - not only because I paid for it but because I too had endured its pain.  I firmly believe a PhD is primarily about endurance.  I will never earn my own because I do not have the determination.  I do not have the will-power.  I have watched my Dr. Burg do it and that is more than enough for me.

Gymsanity

• I'm not sure if I've mentioned that my trainer left me.  OK, it wasn't me personally.  He moved to another town for another job.  As far as I know, it was nothing personal.  I have not picked up a new trainer.  I figure I have enough of a repertoire for now.  Maybe I'll find a new trainer in the fall or when the things I'm doing stop working.  I'll wait for the inevitable plateau. 

• Longer locks mean sweat now drips and swings off my hair.  Very cute.  I swear I sweat like a guy.  Nothing delicate about me at the gym.

• I've taken up running again.  I'm still a treadmill runner in order to protect my legs from shin splints.  There is just nothing better than running.  It provides quick results, a great sweat, and a runner's high.  I'm not sure why I occasionally give it up.   
  

• I bought new running shoes over the weekend.  I wore them yesterday and although they felt great, I managed to rub huge blisters on the arches of both feet.  I stopped mid-run to put band aids over the blisters but the band aids did not seem to help.  The blisters were twice the size another mile later.  After giving up on the run, one of the trainers came over and helped me tape my feet so I could move around the gym without hobbling.  Sadly enough, he then had to write up an incident report as if my new shoes were somehow the gym's fault.  The blisters are a tad better today but one has not popped and may rule out a run tomorrow.  Looks like I'll be on the evil stair climber tomorrow morning.  Dangit. 
  

Tips, Musings, and Thoughts from LadyBurg

Tips:

1. Never eat more than 5 dried apricots.  As my friend, Presbyfruit says, "don't be lured in by their fruity goodness."  They will bite you in the ---, literally.
2. When you see that fine green film on your car, begin taking your allergy medicine.  Don't be fooled into thinking that you have outgrown your allergies.  You probably haven't.  They'll still get you. 

Musings:

1. My hair is falling out.  Nothing is wrong, its just longer.  Longer hair seems to fall out or break off more often.  Maybe its just that I didn't notice my short little hairs when they plummeted from my head.  Now, there is hair on the drain - something I find disgusting, even when it is my hair.  All this hair is due to the fact that I have not had a haircut in over 4 months.  For one who used to cut her hair ever 6 weeks, this is astounding.  It now touches the back of my neck and takes a good deal longer to dry.  I decided I wanted to look more girlie, so I'm growing out my hair.  Problem is, I have no goal.  I have no idea how long I'm going or what I intend it to look like.  Maybe I'll know when I get there.  I kinda hope so. 
2. When did I become so addicted to coffee?  My current favorite - Skinny Vanilla Latte from Starbucks.  It can be iced or hot.  I don't care.  I love them both.  A Starbucks opened a mere two blocks from my office.  It's the kiss of death to my pocket book. 

Thoughts:

1. I'm coming cleaning.  I'm really excited about Obama!  I'm ready for them to wrap this up and move onto the big show down. 
2. I love the person who invented Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches.  I'd kiss them if I could find them.  They are responsible for bringing ice cream back into my life.  I had missed it so very much. 
3. May has been finicky this year.  Its cold and rainy again. 
4. My garden is lovely and doesn't seem to need much attention.  I'm not really sure how I feel about that. 

Yesterday was Pentecost Sunday, Mother's Day, Bread for the World Offering of Letters, the 2nd week in our local camp's Capital Campaign, Communion and to top it all off, Youth Sunday.  Yes, that's right, I had the privilage of coordinating the single busiest day of the year.  It was chaos and fantastic fun. 

Each year, I tell the seniors, who are responsible for planning the service, that they can be as creative as they'd like with the service.  I tell them I will help make almost anything happen.  Every year, they plan a lovely service that looks much like any other Sunday morning with the exception of a few upbeat praise like songs. 

This year, the seniors took me up on the offer.  I sat with one of them for three hours in a coffee shop dreaming and scheming.  We finally structured the service around seven words - Welcome, Confess, Forgive, Learn, Offer, Nourish, and Bless.  Our regular bulletin was scrapped.  Each section was labeled with one of the 7 words that a 9th graders designed on her computer (see "Bless" above).  One of the seniors created 7 large boxes that illustrated the words.  These were used to build and then tear down the service.  As the youth and then the congregation confessed their sins, the "Confess" box was placed on the stack.  As we heard the words of forgiveness, the "Forgive" box was stacked upon the others.  Slowly the service took shape.  Two seniors preached.  The youth served communion.  The music was fun but not cheesy.  The youth pulled off the whole service with grace.  They did not look nervous and they were where they needed to be when they needed to be there. 

I often think Youth Sunday is like putting on a huge stage production.  It takes me hours to figure out the choreography - the microphones, the transitions, the movement, the verbal cues.  As each youth arrives on Youth Sunday, I hand them a bulletin filled with instructions.  "Mark, Lisa, and Sarah go up to the chancel during the passing of the peace.   Kate, Susan, and Tim come down from the chancel and sit in the congregation....and so on."   Rehearsal is noisy chaos and the service, beautiful.  I love it.  I love every single part of it  - except saying good-bye to the seniors.   

This year, I said good-bye to these two.  They were in 5th grade when I arrived at Our Big Steeple.  They attended youth group as 5th graders because their mother's often helped out.  For me, this is an end of an era.  Those that were youth when I arrived are now gone.  I have officially been here a long time.  Its been fun to watch them all grow up but I gotta tell you, I'm going to miss them.  And yes, I cried as I said good-bye and then asked a blessing on them. 

One of the missing 6

This past Saturday, we held a memorial service for a 96 year old beloved pillar of the church.  She was a remarkable lady that had left us detailed instructions for her service so the service was lovely and perfectly captured her spirit. 

At the end of the service, an older usually cranky gentleman came up to me.  He said, "I don't know the significance of this but I have a feeling I should give it to you."  I held out my hand in which he dropped a tiny robin egg colored jelly belly.  I burst out laughing (right at the end of the memorial service, mind you) and asked where he'd found it.  He said he had seen it while sitting in his pew.  It was perched on the decorative side panels near his seat.  He couldn't imagine what it was or how it got there but figured it should be retrieved and handed to me.  (By this, I'm guessing he assumed that only something as absurd as a jelly bean in the lattice work of our sanctuary could be attributed to your's truly.)

I told him the story and declared that he had found one of the missing 6.  This actually got a hearty belly laugh out of the cranky gentleman.  I declared with much enthusiasm that he had made my day and week, which gave him a bigger laugh. 

I now have the once lost and now found jelly bean sitting on my desk.  Its too dirty to eat and too precious to throw away.  I'm not sure what I'll do with it but I keep hoping the other 5 will turn up and eventually join this bean on my desk.  It would make for 5 more odd tails of jelly beans. 

The National

One of the advantages of being an indie rock/pop fan is the fact that such bands often play in small venues.  One of our favorite bands, The National, will be at a local college tonight.  The tickets were a mere $15.00 so despite that fact that I must be at work bright and early tomorrow, Dr. Burg and I are heading across town for what promises to be a great concert.  It is the same venue in which we saw The Decemberists just a little over a year ago.  Feist was there this past Fall, but I missed her (a fact, I still regret). 

This college venue is small.  Dr. Burg will likely stand near the stage.  I, due to my small stature, will probably sit in the bleachers but will have a fantastic view and will certainly be able to hear (as if that were ever a concern at a concert). 

I'm currently baking Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cinnamon cookies to take to the neighbor's party.  Once we've partied and eaten our fill, we'll head out to our concert feeling all giddy like kids.  Of course, we'll be older than most of those in attendance but I keep hoping I get a few cool points for even knowing The National.  Then again, maybe we are just old people that like young people music.  Nope, I'm not willing to go there.  I'm sticking with hip!

For your enjoyment, here's a video and a link to their myspace site with tons of great music.  Enjoy!

Alternative thoughts

Funny - yesterday's post made me miss you.  I've found myself bouncing around the blog world this evening.  Not necessarily commenting, but checking in on you.  I'm glad you all are still out there thinking and writing and loving and blogging. 
_____________

We had our alternative worship conversation last night at the corner Starbucks in downtown Burg.  We chatted about worship over lattes and iced coffee.  I typed as they talked.  My fingers never stopped flying our the keyboard, recording ideas and hopes and dreams.  It was exhilarating and terrifying.  Part of me felt as if it were soring.  It was the part that has been dreaming this dream, that has envisioned something different, that has yearned to worship in a new way.  The other part of me felt crushed - crushed by the hopes I can never fulfill or live into.   The hopes sat heavy on my chest.  There is so much seeking, so many desires, such yearning. 

So today I did the most absurd thing with those hopes - I wrote a report.  I wrote the report that will go to the Coordinating Cabinet (the chairs of all the committees) and then to the Session (our governing body).  I tried to put language to emotion and desire and cravings.  I failed miserably but its what I must do - put words to that which cannot be spoken. 

Now I must pray that the Coordinating Cabinet and the Session can see past my failing vocabulary to the dreams.  I pray they can see the spirit behind the words.  I pray they hear the hearts of the young people who yearn for God.  I pray the words don't get in the way.  And most of all I hope and pray that sometime in the next few months, I hear these simple powerful words - "Go ahead.  Give it a try."