A few quick notes

Those of you (yes, you MN) following both the blog and the links on the left will note that Burnside is no longer on there. I'm pretty sure no one would have noticed but I'm bringing it up because I want to say something about it. When I first stumbled on to this site, thanks to a much over-hyped and merely adequate book, Blue Like Jazz, I counted it as the book's true blessing. It was full of real live Christians that somehow also managed to be real people that you could identify with, people who asked questions, had fun, liked "inappropriate" things, and sometimes provided stellar insight into an issue that excited me. It was believers of many walks. I didn't agree with their treatment of some topics--race, for example (I found it to be patronizing), but still, these were people I thought I could have a beer with and have an honest discussion about faith.

Like all of us, they've been going through some changes and the changes bother me in ways I'm inadequate to articulate. Plainly, I think their ambition has clouded their vision. I'm completely making this up but I imagine that like all us would-be-writers, they felt that desire to share their work with even more people. At the core of that, I believe, is either a need for validation or recognition. They are changing into something we already have and in the process, losing the thing I loved about Burnside, its irreverence. It has become politicized in that horrible insincere way that occurs when religion and politics intersect. And so, I have removed them from my site because I don't want it to be assumed we're of the same mind on these things. I still read them everyday and today was a return to some irreverence but if the political posts are indicative of the direction of the site...well as sure as they'll lament and grieve my lack of patronage, still I will have to let them go.

Speaking of changes, I tried for a little while to write more topically and less blatant on-line therapy. I hoped it would be more popular (hah) and maybe even broaden the appeal outside of people who know me personally and want to know who IBC or Rock Star are. But I need therapy so we shall return back to my core blogging topics; me and how I feel about me. I might rename the blog to something more accurate like, Self-involvement 101, but expect it to pick up some of the heavy wet blanket of the original recipie.

Unpacking continues

Today is a little better as I have managed to get through all the boxes in the living room and even complete some anal-retentive tasks like arranging all of my CD's and DVD's by color. I have one more room of box-emptying to do and the decision I have before me is whether to get on the road back to Virginia now to collect my dog and the remainder of my possessions or wait until later tonight. Gripping stuff, I know.

In other random news, I have made a few unpleasant discoveries about my new abode and new city. On the abode, I discovered that my Barbie-sized washer will not even accommodate the mattress pad for my bed, which led me to some unpleasant discoveries about my new city. I went online searching for dry-cleaners on a local site. In the discussion threads were several posts about muggings and robberies that have taken place in the last two weeks mere blocks from my current residence. So last night, venturing out for dinner, I was much more coiled to unfurl ninja on anybody who had a mind to test me.

When I haven't been unpacking, despairing, napping, or eating, I've been enjoying a great discussion on Burnside. It's a great blog. I haven't looked at the latest issue of their e-zine but they are in a period of transition as well, revamping format, content, and focus. Of the two endeavors, I've enjoyed the blog the most--the articles I've read have been a very standard examination of the typical social issues. The editors corner has been about the only consistent visit I make to the site. Those who are interested, can check it out here.

The big push

I imagine moving is like childbirth. Exciting and intimidating before and just plain painful during the actual event. There's always some "thing" that would have been nice to do but has to be abandoned, a flurry of thoughts on how one might have been better prepared, hope that something important has not been forgotten, and finally resignation that this is it, it's time to push. If this blog had wider circulation, I could see getting a stream of comments from sore, sleep deprived new mothers on how moving is nothing at all like childbirth and how they'd rather move all the stuff in my house, one piece at a time, back and forth than opt for labor again, but the analogy works for me so that's what moving is going to be like today.

My movers are nice and were really flexible. I didn't feel like I had to watch them with my stuff and while I'm am positive that my lack of organization has ensured that I will find my drill battery has been sent to storage and my drill has been packed to come with me to Philly, today, in my grimy, exhausted state, it is an expected and acceptable casualty of moving.

I'm renting for the first time in years and while I thought it would be great after almost 7 years of overrated home ownership, I am looking forward to being in my own place again. I hemmed and hawed over painting and what and where to place things on the walls but they were my walls. The house was a never ending to-do list, often subject to budgetary constraints but I had options to change the space I lived in. Unrealized options, but options nonetheless. I'm very much leaning toward selling the place I'm in as I believe it is time to move on from my beautiful lake view and let someone who will truly maximize waterfront living get a well tended home to enjoy the water by. This place has brought me great friends, great dramas, and more home repair experiences than I cared for. I think we've wrung this one dry. Time for something new.

Abrupt subject change. This is a beautifully written reminder to all that feel that they live a divided life; one doing what is safe and one devoting what is leftover to your passion; or one that feels adrift and wondering what one's purpose might be.