Living in two worlds

Greetings, comrades.

I've been away from blogging lately. I've been torn about how to live here, on GGB Central, as a flaming conservative ranting at Obama and the likes, and in my other world, where I am a dancer and artist and nearly always in the minority religion-wise and politics-wise, where rants don't go over so well. I usually don't talk about being the GGB in dance circles, and although plenty of people who know me as a conservative are well aware that I am hardly the buttoned-down, penny loafer type, sometimes -- you know -- they just don't get it. And because I am an old-fashioned, old-school reformed Christian outside the bailywig of Rick Warren and Joel Osteen, I am out of the mainstream for a lot of conservatives as well.

But I've been on Facebook for awhile, where my disparate identities converge. I guess I'm getting a little tired of my schizophrenic online existence, and maybe my artist friends might give me the time of day politically and religiously if I keep the ranting to a minimum and approach things thoughtfully ... as I hope I would face-to-face.

Should I do it here, or should I develop a new blog? I'm not sure, but stay tuned for a new tone.

Maundy Thursday musings

"Maundy Thursday" -- what is it?

"Maundy" is a corruption of the Latin word mandatum, or "mandate," and refers to Jesus saying, "A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you." (John 13:34)

In the middle of the Issues, Etc. fiasco and impassioned calls to respect the Eighth Commandment (do not bear false witness against your neighbor), I'm reminded how ridiculously hard it is -- no, impossible -- to love my enemies. I'm also reminded that loss of a job -- though traumatic -- is pretty mild compared with what our brothers and sisters elsewhere in the world suffer daily in the name of Christ. (For a few sobering stories, visit here or here.)

The holy law that Jesus iterated on the day before his Passion strikes us all in the face. We fail miserably at it. And that brings us to Holy Friday, the day of the Cross, the day that all the sins of the world were nailed to the tree along with the Lamb of God, along with death and the grave.

On this Holy Thursday, may you rely fully on the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, to fill your heart with love and give you forgiveness of all your sins.

Early birthday report

The GGB celebrates her penultimate 30-something birthday today. :) I opened the first two of several gifts from my husband late last night: a huuuuuge bottle of Escada's Moon Sparkle fragrance (yum) and a Bialetti stainless steel coffee pot.

The latter is the next generation of percolator-type coffee pots and includes an unitentionally funny instruction sheet written in an Italian-to-English version of Engrish:

Fill with cold water the little tank without exceeding the hole of the safety valve.

Let me tell you -- this is the little tank that can. A very rich coffee that is good, good, good.

Got a phone call around 9-ish from my parents-in-law. Still waiting for a call from my own parents. They probably don't think I'm awake yet. 0:-p

UPDATE: Mom called at 10:15. :-) I teased her about my in-laws beating her to the punch.

UPDATE II: Rich has named the coffeepot "Perky." (Most gadgets in our home have their own names.)

UPDATE III: Ahhhh! Perky makes six espresso-sized servings of really strong coffee, which I downed in one sitting this morning! Wow. Boing! Zappo!!!

Sigh

Had a migraine earlier today.

Discovered that an e-mail address I use for business purposes got pwned by some cretins in China selling Viagra knockoffs. (Good thing for them I don't speak Mandarin. Or Cantonese. Or whatever.)

Fred's out of the race.

It's brrrrrr outside.

But I'm listening to Waylon Jennings and Johnny Cash. I think I can make it another day. :)

White Saturday

Central Alabama is getting its first significant snowfall since 2000, and hubby and I are enjoying a quiet and relaxed day of the white stuff. Behold. To the left are our cars, Betsy and Gladys. Interestingly, the snow on the Bug's hood has slipped to the ground, but Gladys' hood rendered a bounty of clean snow for making snow cream. I used Michelle Malkin's recipe but substituted evaporated milk for the regular milk. Even better!

I am now threatening to break out the cocoa, evap milk, cinnamon and cayenne for some righteous Mexican-style hot chocolate, and hubby is very happy about this.

UPDATE: The hot chocolate is a hit! Here's the recipe:

In a coffee mug, combine
- 1 T plus 1/4 tsp. sugar
- 3 tsp. cocoa powder
- pinch of salt

Meanwhile, microwave 1 cup of evaporated milk on high for 1 minute or until hot but not scalding. Pour the heated milk into the mug, stirring briskly to combine the dry ingredients with the milk.

Add freshly ground cinnamon, fresly ground nutmeg and cayenne pepper powder to taste. Finish with a dash of vanilla extract.

Que delicioso!

I guess I should blog again

Hey, folks. GGB here. A friend of mine with a three-year-old and a newborn is showing me out by blogging almost daily, so I figured it was high time to get my hiney in gear and talk to the world.

Hi, world.

Yesterday, hubby and I passed the 200-day mark of our wedded bliss. I keep waiting for that dreaded "tough first year" to materialize, but so far it hasn't. The toughest things about 2007 have come from outside, not from within. No, if anything, 200 days have proven that I chose beautifully. "Peas and carrots" comes to mind.

Otherwise, it's been hard to know what to blog about. It's been nice not having a day job to complain about, and days at home have been mostly productive and absolutely peaceful. Coming up on an election year, you'd think I'd be back in political-junkie mode, but lately the news only gets me angry. Suffice it to say, Hillary Clinton is a Marxist and I will vote for her opponent, whoever that may be. In fact, I'm kinda tickled that Pat Robertson -- kooky as he is -- decided to endorse Giuliani, especially after James Dobson's whining that none of the front runners is Jesus-y enough.

Speaking of Jesus ...

Michael Horton is my hero. (After Jesus.) I finally got my hands on a copy of a fantastic volume he edited, titled Christ the Lord: The Reformation and Lordship Salvation. For those of you who did not grow up Southern Baptist, this will be meaningless, but this book has finally settled the anxieties of this former SBC'er who grew up constantly hearing: "Are you really, really, really, really, REALLY saved?" (For those of you who did grow up So. Baptist, I hope you are giggling now. And go buy the book.)

Okay, our older dog is giving me that look. Time to feed the mutts. Arividerci!

A dispatch from the other side of the altar

@#$%^&

Dad gummit.

No, I love marriage -- seriously -- it's just the upgrade in Blogger that's locked me out of my account for months and made me a little frustrated.

Okay ... where was I? Oh, yes ... marriage!!

At this moment, hubby and I are lounging in our brand-new, king-size Tempur Pedic bed (top of the line, mind you), with blankets and a duvet made of yards of the stuff that feels like plush teddy bears. We're in our PJs, Rich is reading Harry Potter and I am, well, blogging. Obviously. He's made us both coffee, and we're enjoying a rare quiet morning, punctuated by the cats walking across our laps and the occasional goofy-eyed glance.

Wedded bliss at its finest. THIS is what I'd hoped marriage would be like.

On the other hand, if you've been reading Rich's blog, you'll know that we've had a little drama in our world. That "in sickness and in health" clause kicked in way earlier than I expected when Rich was hit nearly head-on and totaled his Altima four days after we got home from Jamaica. It wasn't his fault and he had no permanent bodily damage, but he had some of the most horrifying bruises I've ever seen on a human being.

Since then, we've had the final move of my junk to the house. (Rich says that the garage looks like the final scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark.) One of our dogs required emergency surgery and had a return trip to the vet this past weekend. My sister got pregnant (minor miracle). Then she miscarried (major heartbreak).

And I still love married life!

Rich and I have had each other to lean on and trust in during this cluster of minor trials. After viewing the aftermath of Rich vs. Shelby County patrol car (yes -- a cop hit him), I am grateful to God to have a husband to come home to. The cats and dogs are getting along, and the house -- though disorganized and far from complete in its transition -- is looking more and more like a home rather than a bachelor pad.

And it's peaceful. Especially this morning.

Happy Fourth of July, everyone.