I'm Out of My Effing Mind

No, really, I am.

My brother Lincoln left in mid-June to go to Jasper, where he and Clayton have now (I think both?) got jobs. The plan, pre-lack-of-$, was to attend FanExpo and, at the end of August, bus to Jasper to visit (and to Field, and on to Vancouver). Now, because, as stated before, I'm out of my effing mind, my sister and I are planning to cycle to Jasper, then on to Field and Vancouver. Updates on our insanity to follow.

The Weight of Shadows

The Weight of Shadows

Author: Alison Strobel

Publisher: Zondervan

Publication Date: May 7, 2010

Paperback, 320 pages

ISBN: 978-0310289456


I don't generally read a lot of Christian fiction. To put that more accurately, until recently I hadn't picked up a work of Christian fiction since I was still babysitting my cousins at their house (the youngest of these cousins has just finished grade 9, the oldest, her first year of university). I don't have anything against religious fiction as a rule; it's just that I rarely have occasion to read it. With Alison Strobel's The Weight of Shadows, the occasion found me - and I'm glad that it did.

The first thing that struck me about this book was how quickly I found myself caring about the characters. Not because they're the most amazing, wonderful, likeable people in the world, but, actually, because they're not. The characters in this book are, really, just people. They struggle. They make mistakes, like everyone else, some huge and life-altering and others mundane and inconsequential, but all of them mistakes that real people would make. Throughout the book, and especially toward the end, I found myself silently cheering them on or telling them off and willing them to make what seemed so obviously to be the right choices.

By the second chapter, the importance of the author's faith to her, and the roll it plays in her writing, is evident. Regardless of my own beliefs, I found myself awed by her expressions of that faith, from the inner thoughts and feelings of her three main characters to the little (but heartfelt) prayers that they utter throughout the entire novel. Before the three seemingly insular story lines start to intersect, they're held together by these thoughts, feelings and prayers.

I can only imagine the painstaking research that must have gone into making The Weight of Shadows the book that it is. Strobel offers readers a detailed look into the life and motivations of a battered woman, the workings of a shelter and the emotions of people trying to cope with long-standing guilt.

The Weight of Shadows is an interesting study in faith, love and the interdependence of people, thoroughly researched and uniquely executed. I'm glad I had the opportunity to read it.

About the author:

Alison inherited the writing gene from her father, Lee, and grew up composing stories on everything from napkins to typewriters. Her talent earned her awards throughout school, a two page spread featuring her work in her senior yearbook, and even saved her from failing college chemistry. But it wasn't until she moved to California after college that she wrote her first full-length novel, and that's when God made Alison's oldest dream come true.

--From Alison's website, www.alisonstrobel.com



For more information about the book, the author or the tour, check out Alison's Blog.

The Other Shop

I forget how I found Skreened.com. Something I read on Twitter, I think. The FU, BP design was something I came up with while looking for components for a design Rhiannon had come up with and as soon as I thought of it, I had to try to sell it. So far, I've sold two, which considered my limited marketing, I think is pretty good.

Apparently, the guy on Twitter who started BPGlobalPR is donating the profits from his BP Cares shirt to clean up efforts (this is what I've heard, I don't want to put words in his mouth). You'd think that the world in general would be making more noise about the BP SNAFU, but it seems like an angry (albeit hillarious and informative) Twitter account and a few BP-hating tee shirts are about it for the Anti-BP movement.

That's all I have about that for right now. In a couple of days, my big brother and Clayton will be taking off for parts unknown (well, unknown to some people. I know where they're going). They're hitch hiking there, which makes me nervous, but they're going to be together which makes me considerably less nervous. Also in a couple of days, my little sister and her boyfriend get their first apartment (FINALLY). Also, my older sister is the maid of honour in an upcoming wedding and my youngest brother's elementary school graduation is in 8 days, so it seems like everyone has crazy fun stuff going on for the next little while. I'm tired from the activity going on around me and wishing I had fun stuff like this to look forward to at the moment.

On the other hand, Spoy and I have plans that end with us in Vancouver for a chunk of the fall, so I guess I shouldn't complain too much... of course, our plans are contingent on getting in to some medical studies (hooray for human guinea pigs!), but what can you do?

Ok, I think that's really it. Funny how most of this post has nothing to do with the other shop.

So,

For the first time in a while, I'm not posting something about BP's giant cock up. Actually, I don't think I can write the post I was planning to write. I guess that's the problem with blogs: anyone could be reading.

I shall write instead about the nature of forgiveness and my growing mistrust of men. Forgiveness is easy. I think this has to do with my (ever-dwindling) intelligence. When I was a kid, I was smarter than almost everyone I knew. That didn't last, but the unfortunate habit of assuming that all people are idiots never really left me. So I guess I really don't forgive people for their slights against me, so much as assume that they're too stupid to have helped themselves. This all sounds very arrogant, but I'm being very general here. And, honestly, a lot of people are idiots. I like to pretend that when I let something go, it's because I'm being the bigger person, but really, I think I just stop caring. I can't be bothered with people any more.

I wasn't always a misanthrope, but I am now. I was thinking about that today while I ate dinner, alone at my kitchen table. There was no reason not to have a sit-down meal with everyone else, but I didn't even tell them dinner was ready. I cooked enough for everyone then ate alone. I prefer it that way. I love my family, but I have trouble being around anyone for too long, and that includes them.

As for my mistrust of men... I get where it stems from, but I'm having a little trouble figuring out why it manifests the way it does. I used to be a free-thinking modern woman, the kind who was driven nuts by all the stupid stereotypes applied to both genders, the kind who saw people as people and wasn't terribly worried what pair of chromosomes they sported. Now, I find myself on the verge of full-on feminism, suddenly understanding those dumb broads who say things like all men are dogs. Any more, he only men I really feel 100% comfortable around (aside from close friends and family) are the ones I know I could physically overpower if I needed to. I like to know I could take a guy in a fight. How's that for messed up?

So, there we go, some unsolicited introspection from me, while I wait for my SVU episode to finish loading. I'm going to watch the rest of it, then head for bed, I think. Got to get going on those morning work outs again if I wanna be tattoo-ready by the end of the summer.