Mix tapes are dangerous.

It's scary going through old cds and finding one labeled "Amanda's favorite tunes" written in my 15-year-old handwriting. Holding it my hand, debating whether or not to play it, I wondered if ignorance was better. What terrifying combination of songs had I been so confidently pleased to label "favorites?" There was really no telling, and based on my coolness level in high school, I did not expect great things.
Ultimately, I threw caution to the wind and slid it into the cd player to experience on my drive home from my grandma's house.
It did not open well: Point of Grace. Hoo boy. It was going to be a long ride.
But I redeemed myself somewhat with a bit of Toby Mac, Jars of Clay, Jeremy Camp, and MercyMe. And what high school play list would be complete without some Relient K and Audio Adrenaline? Mark Schultz, yes...and who could ever outgrow Steven Curtis? FM Static was a surprise, since they had stopped being cool long before I made this CD. But it was a pleasant surprise, because My First Stereo will always be a classic to me. And let's be honest--I'm sort of a retspih (the opposite of hipster) when it comes to music.

Basically, the whole ride home was a trip down memory lane. Which is probably why I got into the wrong physical lane, screwed up the EZ-Pass, and will probably now have to pay the fare for riding the whole length of the PA turnpike instead of just the 20 mile stretch I actually drove. Crap. I should not be trusted with complicated grown up things like lane-switching and EZ-Passes.
But I guess I can just blame Matt Thiessen and Mark Schultz for distracting me. And Toby Mac? No, don't worry, Toby. I could never blame you.

ajr

Not a fort.

Update:
It turns out our neighbors are not building a fort, but rather a booth for an art fair next week. Cool. Not as cool as a fort, but still cool.
And I still like their music.
ajr

Pepsi

Here's what I don't get: how can Pepsi create a can of soda that has 1 calorie, another that has 60 calories, and another that has zero, when all of them claim to be sugar-free.
I think they're just making things up now.

ajr

Neighbors

It's kind of fun living in a house in a neighborhood.
There's grass right outside my door, for one thing, which is different than carpet and white walls.
And there are people mowing their lawns and playing outside with their children, which is also different.
And we have lots of windows to open and let the beautiful summer breeze in.
But there's something especially fun about living in a neighborhood: we have neighbors. One particular set of neighbors has been working on a project in their driveway for a while. I'm not sure what it is--it looks like a really awesome plywood fort to me, but why the grown men who live there would be building a fort is beyond me.
But whatever they're building, they're keeping themselves entertained with a steady flow of the Beatles, John Lennon, and Elton John.
And they have really great speakers. So it's kind of like having the radio on all the time, tuned to a station that I would probably never listen to.
I like it.
But then again, it's only been a day. I'll keep you posted as to whether I like my free radio subscription as the summer goes on.

ajr

off-target

I figured something out today.

When you go shooting things with guns, say clay pigeons, for example (as I think some are in the habit of doing...I have no experience in such things) and you don't hit the pigeon, you say you missed it. You failed to hit the mark, and so it brings a pang of disappointment. 

While this metaphor brings to mind many questions for me (mainly the logic of the term "pigeon" when they're clearly just clay Frisbees) it does clarify something. 

To miss something is to expect one thing (in this case, to shatter a "pigeon"), and then to be disappointed.
So when I get that ache in my gut because I really miss someone (or multiple someones), it's that same expectancy violation. I'm hoping, aiming to see them and I don't, and there's a pang of disappointment.

So to miss someone is to be off-target in life, and that's why it hurts. 

This is probably one of those times when my insights made a lot more sense INSIDE my head than OUTSIDE of it. So I'm sorry. But oh well. It worked for me. 

ajr 

books

I love books.
I love the stories that draw me in, the characters who become my friends, and just the "atmosphere" of my favorite books. The way I feel at home in my favorite stories and with my favorite characters.
But do you know what I hate about books? They end.
I hate the end because then it's over. And unless someone goes to the trouble of writing a sequel, you don't hear any more from those characters and the story is done. And even in the best sequel, the atmosphere isn't the same and it doesn't feel as much like home.
Yep. The end sucks. 

This has been metaphorical moping with Amanda. I apologize. And what do I know, anyway? Maybe there will be a sequel. And sometimes sequels are just as good as the originals. Maybe even better. But probably not better. That seems impossible.

ajr

The day I lost my sanity.

That weird moment when my soda can starts making noises at me.

I'm watching you, Dr. Pepper...

ajr

grass

Today I discovered that I get weirdly sentimental with my last set of finals approaching.
I was crossing campus and found myself thinking, "Aw man, I like this grass. I won't get to walk on it much more."
And then I was like..."Amanda. It's grass."

But what if they don't have it like this everywhere...

ajr