The Continuum....uh.....continued(um)

I thought the continuum was just a weird thing that Barbara and I liked to talk about when we were bored. And I thought it was done. But since I posted about the continuum, two brand new candidates were brought to my attention. Both by my brother Dave. Seen side by side they look nothing alike. But if you put them in the right order.... Bono fits in between Robin Williams and Phil Collins, and I think that Daniel Radcliffe fits in next to Elijah Wood. What do you think?


Bring back Shoeless Joe!!

Maybe then I'll be interested in a World Series involving the White Sox. The Angels TOTALLY got robbed in the second game, and I think it broke their spirits and that's why they lost the rest of the games. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Happy (belated) Birthday, Freak!

My friendship with Christi began with an attempt to walk from the Newport Pier to the Balboa Pier and back in under 20 minutes (we TOTALLY didn't make it), and most recently had us both participating in a Greek wedding (of the big fat variety), she as the bride and me as matron of honor. She has been one of my very best friends for eight years now. We've had so much fun together, and have always encouraged each other to be more daring than we'd normally be, usually with good results. We have so many good memories together that I don't even know where to begin. We've had no end of fun sharing the same name, and we've actually had people ask us quite seriously, after we had introduced ourselves, if we were twins. "Yes. Yes, we are." Christi and I have racked up thousands of hours driving together, pulled many all-nighters because we couldn't take the time to sleep, talked our way out of tickets together, shared numerous pints, sung at Disneyland and the Hollywood Bowl, beaten hell and high water to get backstage (kind of) at a Cure concert, performed very funny renditions of Shakespeare Man's "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" (but only when we're alone), and practically owned our own table at the Denny's in Orange.

Happy birthday, my favorite freak! I hope this year is a better one for you than last year was. Thank you for always standing by me no matter what. You're a supergreat friend, but remember: I'm the Mary, you're the Rhoda. Oh, and you still can't groove to organ music.


Operation: Waiting Room Take Over, Stage One

Last week Nathan quite innocently asked me to burn him some mix CDs for his waiting room, so that his patients don't sit politely avoiding each other's eyes in dead silence while they wait for Nathan to see them. Little did he know. Music is my weapon, and I will use it to subtly infiltrate his office and claim it in the name of all that is good and 80s and alternative. Sadly, I can't go the whole nine yards, because some of what I love just isn't waiting room appropriate. The Cure's Hot Hot Hot and Why Can't I Be You? for instance. But I managed to get some good stuff in. A good amount of U2, the more palatable and popular Cure songs, a lot of Toad the Wet Sprocket, some Ivy (Nathan will kill me for that), even some John Mayer (my guilty pleasure: his music makes me feel like a 14-year-old). And then there are some of the things I snuck in.... I'm going to have to move to the next county when Nathan realizes what's playing out there. Songs like Toto's "Africa,", James Taylor's "The Water is Wide" and "Copperline" (which I included purely because it has a line about copper kettles sitting "side by each"), The Smiths' "The Boy with the Thorn in His Side," and especially Taco's "Puttin' on the Ritz." I'm gonna be in so much trouble, and Nathan is gonna take it from some of his patients. Oh, and I also included Erasure's "Oh l'Amour." Just for good measure. But I did exercise some restraint. I skipped over the Pet Shop Boys completely (*sniff*), and I finally decided that it wouldn't be a good idea to add in David Wilcox's "Mango" (Clint!).


Take THAT!

Praise the Lord, we're having a world series this year where we don't have to worry about the stupid Yankees!! I'm so tired of them being in the playoffs every single year. And wasn't it great to see that part tonight where the two Yankees players both tried to catch the ball and collided with each other in mid-air? I happened to be walking through our apartment complex when it happened, and I could hear laughter and cheers from all sides. Very cool. Go Angels!!

On another note, I was hoping to include pictures on my blog tonight, but the disk that our friends gave us won't work on our computer for some reason. The three of us went last week to the house of some patients of Nathan's, and the guy took a lot of pictures while we were there that are probably very cute. They have a Newfoundland that weighs about 180 pounds, and an Alaskan Husky that's almost that big. Judah had the best time crawling around on the floor playing with the dogs, grabbing their feet, and laying his head on them. It was so fun to watch. Hopefully we'll be able to get the pictures from them another way and I'll post them here later.


Damn Yankees

I don't think I can bear another World Series that involves the Yankees. I'm so sick of them! The Angels bit it tonight, but they have four more chances to bury them. Go Angels!

More Naomi

Today Naomi promised me that if she ever finds a dinosaur egg she'll fry it up and invite me and my family over to eat it with her. I'm so excited! I ain't never ate dinosaur egg before!


Stubborn, just like all the Kimbers

"The impossible becomes possible when we relinquish control."
~Verl Lindley

My family has a decidedly stubborn streak that runs through it via the Kimber blood. And I am half Kimber. My dad's side of the family I would say has the characteristic of perseverence, which is pursuing a goal until it becomes clear that it's an unreasonable goal, and then changing direction gracefully. But my mom's side of the family is just plain stubborn, which means beating our heads against a wall, sometimes even after we realize we're only hurting ourselves (and often times irritating everyone around us). Sometimes it pays off, sometimes it doesn't. But it did spawn a saying: "Where there's a Kimber there's a way." This stubbornness gets blamed on the Kimbers, but I think it may be just as much Cope, which was my grandma Kimber's family. Anyway, like I said, sometimes it's a good thing. Over the years I've seen amazing things happen because of stubborn people. My grandparents' ramshackle old house stayed standing as long as it did simply because they WILLED it to stand, I think. My grandpa drove himself to the hospital while he was having a major heart attack because he was too stubborn to call 911. And my mom and I have the ability to make things appear because we refuse to stop looking for them until they do. Or else we substitute. Cleverly. :)

However, when it comes to the heart, being stubborn is probably the worst thing that can happen. And I've been stubborn. Over the last couple of weeks I've been hanging on to anger and my own wrong feelings. I know that I need to let go, but I haven't been able to so far. I can't go into details about the situation, but it's bad. I've been trying to pray the right way, but it's hard when I know my heart's not right. Nathan promises me that my prayers aren't bouncing off the ceiling because I can't feel what I'm asking for, though. And then came church this morning. The entire service was like God telling me to shape up and change my attitude. But, as always, He didn't scream it at me. He just showed me. And promised help, so I don't have to try to do it alone. We started out by singing a choir anthem called "Create in Me, Oh God, A Pure Heart." Then we sang "Spirit of God Descend Upon My Heart." Then our pastor, Ed Morsey, gave a sermon from Romans. And then we took communion, which is a somewhat unusual occurence since I go to a Friends church. By the end of the service I was quite clear on what I should be doing. And I hope I can do it.

Teach me to feel that thou art always nigh;
Teach me the struggles of the soul to bear.
To check the rising doubt, the rebel sigh,
Teach me the patience of unanswered prayer.


Happy Birthday, Mom!

My parents have sung in our church choir ever since I can remember. This meant that every Sunday morning they would wake us up at a ridiculous hour, get us dressed, get themselves dressed, pile us all (and sometimes our friends) into the station wagon, stop at Yum Yum for donuts, and get us all to church by 7:30. 7:30!! I think my parents are secretly superheroes. My brothers and I would always sit in the second row, and I remember sitting there and smiling up at my mom and waving. And no matter what, she would always smile back and wink at me, even in the middle of serious moments. It meant the world to me. My mother has never failed to acknowledge me, and that has been so important to me. To this day, if I walk up next to her and she's talking to someone else she'll reach out and put a hand on my arm or her arm around me to let me know she's glad to see me. And it still makes me feel so special and secure and loved.

I love you, Mom, and I think you're the best mom in the whole world. I always have. Thank you for always loving me, and for the many, many ways you've shown me love over the years. I'm so glad to have you as a mother and a (second) best friend. Happy Birthday!