R-E-A-L Housewives of Miami

I just got back from a much-needed vacay to see my BFJ.  A bonus to this trip was that I got to see a good friend of mine from college, too.  I have several things to blog about from my trip to the tropics, but I wanted to start with the most important; the real housewives of Miami.  Girls - ladies, really, but let's not age ourselves - who have their priorities straight, live with integrity, are loads of fun, and have become a significant part of how God restores my soul.

See for yourself:

Me and my BFJ.

Where, oh where did this red head come from in a house full of brunettes?  We asked about the milk man, the newspaper deliverer, etc. but got no leads.  Hmmmm.  I guess there's something to the whole recessive gene concept after all!

This is my friend, Rapper L.  She and I rapped - no joke - in front of hundreds of people in college.  And we brought down the house.  She's now the mother of 3 kids but don't be fooled.  She can throw down some tunes.

Tarting around with my BFJ in Las Olas, a fun section of shops in Fort Lauderdale.  It's similar to an Old Town or a Riverwalk.  The food - and drinks! - are remarkable.  But the company was the best part.

Chillin like villians with my lil BF.  We were exhausted, people.  We needed some downtime.

The trip was just the right amount of time, considering that it's really not a possibility for me to move in with them and discuss books, food, modern events and theology 24/7.  I managed to make it in between hurricanes and right on the cusp of college football which will now be in the forefront of my mind until January.  Along with pumpkin bread and the upcoming fall season.

More to come about the kiddos, the food, the great times, and some great shots of the Miami area.  But for now, back to the grindstone.  Am already checking my calendar for the next trip...

Book Recommendation

I just finished reading two books by Chris Wooding:  Retribution Falls and The Black Lung Captain.  These books are set in a steampunk-ish universe (if you don't know what steampunk is, click here).   The story is similar to the Firefly TV series, except that the crew is a little rougher around the edges (if you haven't seen Firefly, it's pretty darn good--I highly recommend it).  I found Retribution Falls at Borders while I was looking for something else--I hadn't previously heard about it.

The books follow the misadventures of the crew of the Ketty Jay, a small airship owned by Darian Frey.  Frey is a small-time low life with an addiction to gambling, booze, and women, and who wants nothing more than to be free and keep flying.  This is made difficult for him by the fact that his love of gambling, booze, and women usually keeps him from investing money in his airship, which always seems to be on the verge of breaking down.  In order to feed his addictions and keep his ship in the sky (and to occasionally pay his crew), he takes whatever jobs he can, legal or illegal.  This leads to them getting mixed up in some serious circumstances, which Frey is none too happy about, but it is entertaining to watch them deal with it.

The crew is a motley bunch, and most of them are running from something.  Luckily for them, the Ketty Jay is not a place where people ask a lot of questions; Frey is happy to have them as long as they do what he tells them to and don't make his life any more difficult.  Their individual foibles and problems make for interesting (and often entertaining) side stories to the main events of the book.

Retribution Falls is the first book in the tales of Frey and his crew, and The Black Lung Captain is the second.  A third will be published next summer, according to Wikipedia.  Both are a great, fun read, although the second is written a bit better in my opinion.  (The crew also starts to gel in the second book, so maybe that's why it seems better written).

So if you're looking for something a little different, I would definitely recommend these stories.

TGIF, people!

Just who do you think you are?

Fair warning:  I'm getting up on my soapbox.

As mentioned in a previous post, and as you are all no doubt aware by now, Borders is going out of business.  As the sales markdowns have been getting higher, we have been diligently helping Borders clear books off their shelves.

Last week, I was perusing the Biographies section (40% off--it was my civic duty).  All the usual suspects were represented:  Winston Churchill, Albert Einstein, Gandhi, Bristol Palin....wait a minute, who?  Bristol Palin?  Really?  Then I started looking more closely at the shelves, and my horror began to deepen.  Susan Boyle...Linda Hogan...Ice-T...Paul Reiser...Jesse James...I was flabbergasted.  What important things had these people done to warrant having their lives' stories written down and mass printed?  Seriously, I was (and still am) dumbfounded by this discovery.

The only reason anyone has ever heard of Susan Boyle is because she is probably the least attractive person to ever almost win American Idol (apparently being female, older, generally physically unattractive, and able to sing very well is novel in this country).  Linda Hogan is famous, I guess, for being married to Hulk Hogan, who made his living pretending to wrestle people and act (poorly) in a few B-grade movies.  Ice-T got famous (infamous) for being in a music group that made songs about killing cops, and ironically now he's playing a cop on TV.  Paul Reiser...no idea.  He was in a semi-popular TV show in the 90's.  Jesse James is only known because he's on a TV show on the Discovery Channel about motorcycles, and he screwed up his marriage to Sandra Bullock around the time that she won an Oscar, which made his name well-known to everyone who doesn't watch the motorcycle show.  The subtitle of his book is "American Outlaw".  I guess he's trying to cash in on sharing his name with that other Jesse James...you know, the one who held up trains, robbed banks, and murdered people in the latter portion of the 19th century.  Something tells me the modern Jesse James would probably wet himself if he ever came face-to-face with the original model.

And Bristol Palin?  Famous only because she got knocked up out of wedlock right around the time that her mother became the Republican vice-presidential candidate.  The subtitle of her book says it all:  "My Journey So Far".  She's not even 25.  "My Journey So Far"? Really?  How much could there be to say?  Lived in Alaska, went to high school, got pregnant, got paraded on national TV because of my mom, and went on Dancing with the Stars (and lost).  Hey, I think I'll write a book about it!  What a great idea!  Plus, the subtitle suggests that, at some point in the future, there will be a sequel.  Anyone care to place any bets on that?

I am dumbfounded by the fact that someone thought these people's lives were important enough to write about, and shocked (and a bit scared) that they have actually sold books.  It is also, to me, presumptuous that they or their publishers should think that the story of their lives belongs in the same bookstore, let alone the same shelf, as people like Churchill, and Gandhi, and any number of other people who have actually left an indelible mark on this earth--people who have shaped it into what it is today, for better or worse.  Not to sound like a raging environmentalist, but how many trees had to die so Linda Hogan could tell her life's story?

Maybe it's a commentary on our society.  After all, publishers wouldn't publish books if they didn't think they would sell.  And, unfortunately, some of these books probably sold really well, which is pretty sad.  

Okay...off the soapbox now.  Just had to get that off my chest.

Model Mondays: Sentinel

This edition of Model Mondays showcases the Imperial Guard Sentinel, another vehicle from the Warhammer 40,000 table top miniatures wargame.  Warhammer kits, for the most part, are fairly easy to put together--there usually aren't problems with pieces not fitting together, etc.  It's a topic I really enjoy building.  The designs of their vehicles are...unique.  Plus, it's futuristic military sci-fi, and what's not to love about that?

The Sentinel is a scout/reconnaissance vehicle used by the Imperial Guard, which is the standing army of the Imperium of Man.  It is a two-legged walking vehicle, with one person inside.  The Sentinel can be outfitted with a number of different weapon systems, to include autocannons (which is what mine is armed with), rocket/missile launchers, flamethrowers, and plasma guns.  The Sentinel is also used as a heavy-lift vehicle, and can be outfitted with pincer arms instead of weapons in order to move crates, munitions, etc.

I wanted to go with a slightly different color scheme, but still wanted it to be camouflaged.  One of the nice things about building science fiction models is that, since the actual vehicle doesn't exist, you can use your imagination when building and painting.  The kit went together with very little problem, although it did take me awhile to figure out how I was going to pose the legs.  Each leg has two joints, and the foot is on a rotating ball, so I had lots of options for positioning the legs, which was dependent on how I was going to mount it.  The terrain piece that it sits on is pre-made--not my work, I found it in my local gaming store, already painted.  It's made of recycled rubber.  I attached the model to the terrain piece using just a bit of superglue on the forward foot.

 

The whole thing is about 5 inches tall, from the base of the rocks to the top of the Sentinel's antennae.

Comments are always welcome; enjoy the pictures!

The Soul Restoration Business

I was in the gym today, zoning out on the second floor and looking down on the poor schmucks sweating it out on the first floor.  In the distance, over in a corner by the heavy weights, a guy was falling and then getting up, over and over again.  I know what he was doing.  I did it for years myself.  He was practicing how to fall.

I was struck anew by something in the 23rd Psalm.  We all know how it goes:  God is our shepherd.  He will take care of our every need; He IS our every solution.  He will lead us in quiet and peace.

It then says:  He restores my soul.

What does it take to restore a soul?  As long as I've read this psalm, I've sort of basked in the restful, lush image of green grass, quiet waters.  I do think that's the point.  But the actual business of restoring a soul ain't for the faint of heart.  Shepherds were filthy guys.  In order to protect the sheep and do their jobs with, let's say, integrity, they got down in the dirt and the grime and the wool and the muck.

I think it's interesting that the psalmist uses the soul restoration line to finish the peaceful thought and transition to the more chaotic.  Then the shepherd will guide us down paths of righteousness and through the valley of the shadow of death where we will fear no evil.  I think we need restored souls to endure these trials.  I also think these trials are part of how He restores our souls.  I don't think it's all Irish countryside and bubbling brooks.

Going back to learning how to fall.  A few years ago I learned an Israeli fighting style called Krav Maga.  There is no respect for the opponent, no love of the fight; there is only survival.  The style assumes you will be outnumbered, out-weaponed.  It was born out of WWII and makes it clear that you will either survive, or you'll go down making your opponent very, very sorry.

The fight is close.  I mean, I mixed bodily fluids with opponents so much that after a while I never stopped to scrutinize whether my arm was covered in sweat or spit.  We wrestled.  In corners, on the floor, against walls, with fake knives, fake guns.  Just when we got the hang of it, instructors would blindfold us, or turn off the lights and blare the music, or make us fight our way out of a corner; one girl against 10 guys.  No way out.  Amidst all the hard rock and flashing lights and screaming, I could always hear my instructor.  He was screaming the loudest.  He was behind me, or visible just behind my opponents.

"Cross!  Left jab, NOW!  You can do this!"  The implication being, I know because I'm the one who taught you.


Who knows if I'll ever get in a real-world fight.  All I know is that I doubt most situations I'll find myself in will ever come close to those in the studio.  But the point is, I've been prepared.  My fighting spirit is ready.

I believe God restores our souls in this way, too.  Sometimes he shows us what we're meant to do by getting sweaty with us and working on our spiritual muscles himself.  So one day when we find ourselves on that rocky path of righteousness or descending into that valley, when we really need that spiritual muscle memory, we hear his voice above all the others and we remember, oh yeah - I've learned how to do this.  I can do this.

The Psalm ends, in one version, by saying that goodness and love will pursue me all the days of my life. As in relentlessly chase; follow closely after.

And I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

Amen.

TGIF, people!