sooooo tiiiiired. i fully blame katie and our ridiculously late night phone calls for my sleep deprivation. ehhhhh.....

where can a sick man go
when he can't choke down the medicine the old doc knows
a specialist came to town but he stays at home
saying 'no one knows so i don't, honey, when in rome'

where can a teacher go
wherever she thinks people need the things she knows
hey, those books you gave us look good on the shelves at home
and they'll burn warm in the fireplace, teacher, when in rome

grab a blanket, sister, we'll make smoke signals
bring in some new blood, it feels like we're alone
grab a blanket, brother, so we don't catch cold
from one another i wonder if we're stuck in rome

where can a dead man go
a question with an answer only dead men know
but i'm gonna bet they never really feel at home
if they spent a lifetime learning how to live in rome

[small clips of audio enjoyment here and here.]


words and music by chris thile. copyright 2005 queen's counsel music (ascap); mad german music (ascap).

so tb sent me a couple of mix cds last week, and she included this song by nickel creek on one of them. as i told her shortly thereafter, "...i ended up buying 'why should the fire die?' yesterday. awesome. 'when in rome' is incredibly infectious... it's like musical crack."

besides doubling as an illegal substance, it has also been in heavy rotation in the car and at home. i find the lyrics subtle yet powerful. and i imagine this song will come to mind at times when i realize i find myself in rome. it is in the daily decisions of life that we find ourselves transformed people... or so i've heard.

boss is out sick today.

it's like vacation, but not...

*tries to concentrate on work*

- taco bell, aka A Refresher Course On Why I Shouldn't Eat There
- smirnoff triple black
- band videos
- choir videos
- surprising conversations
- shopping...
- work shirts, cd, tiny bouquets, underthings
- tim horton's cafe mocha
- mini-vacation plans set into motion

"Do you all have nothing better to do at work! Is this what the real world is like?"

i love email chains.

katie and i, during a discussion on stereotypes and ethnicity:

kt: so, obviously, it's the reason you're an accountant.

m: well, yes. of course. wait. doesn't that mean i should only be half an accountant?

kt: actually, i think you are half an accountant. the other half is a punk.

much to the chagrin of facility managers worldwide, i strongly opine that every office should have THEIR OWN THERMOSTAT.

it's invariably either freezing or stuffy... no happy medium.

ugh.

derek webb will be playing in oxford, ohio on april 9th, 10pm, at kofenva. [side note: we got rid of the buzz -- or was it just buzz? it's been too long -- plopped a starbucks into the old subway building, then got a different coffeehouse with a goofy freaking name?] unfortunately for me, april 9th is a SUNDAY and oxford is over three hours away. derek, derek, derek... could you not have done friday or saturday? just for me? i am weeping and mourning. how lovely it would have been to hear you in the very town where i spent my formative years of christianity [uh... for better or worse]. oh, it would have been perfect. however, i promise to forgive you if your april 29th show -- a SATURDAY at 7PM -- in columbus does not sell out before i purchase tickets.

um, anyone want to see derek webb with me on april 29th?

in other news, my order for girl scout cookies arrived yesterday. thin mints and peanut butter patties... mmmmm. a conversation i had with a med student after leaving work with boxes in hand:

c: oh, man! you got girl scout cookies?

m: [beaming] yup. they just came in a few minutes ago.

c: [shakes head in disgust] shoot, i can never find anyone that sells them anymore. ahhh, you have thin mints...

m: [starts drooling]

c: dude, those things are addicting. they're like cocaine or something.

m: oh my god, I KNOW... they're like crack patties.

so. i've been a research subject for almost a week now.

i am one of those [apparently] rare people who still wear conventional contact lenses. for those of you lucky people who always ate your carrots as a kid and don't know the lingo, that means my contacts last for one whole year before i switch to a new pair. during my last visit to the optometrist, they roped this old dinosaur into a lens study which requires me to wear daily disposable contacts for one week. oh, and i get fifty bucks for it. i figured, what the hey.

i am finding it very odd and almost painful to throw away a pair of contact lenses EVERY SINGLE DAY. now, granted, i have decided that these particular lenses pretty much suck, and while i am at work i find that i want nothing more than to get home, peel them off, and slip my glasses on. you would think that throwing these lenses away would give me some sort of satisfaction, but nooooooo. afterwards, i just look at the ziploc baggie filled with the week's worth of identical molded plastic containers and peelable lids holding sterile solution and one contact lens each and think: what a waste.

i would like to be able to say i am not a wasteful person. unfortunately, this is probably much farther [further?] from the truth than even i realize. overall, i am pretty much a lazy slug; i find it hard to be bothered with finding uses for the soon to be gone bad and almost full half gallon of milk. or sorting recyclables, AND THAT'S NOT TO MENTION dragging them out to the remote recycling center that is open for about eight minutes on saturday mornings.

that's only hearsay of course, since i don't even know where this recycling center is, exactly.

anyway, looking at those carefully crafted containers every day this week, reminded me of just how much STUFF we have. my... how spoiled we are. even speaking as one who is nowhere near upper class [and barely middle class, if that], i recognize often that my life resembles one of wealth and riches to so many in this world. and yet... i find so much to complain about. it is so easy to find both worth and discontent in the things of this world, and become distracted from what is important.

now, in case you haven't been paying attention, i'm a big fan of andrew peterson. if you ever have a chance to see him live, DO IT. he's fantastically goofy and down-to-earth. in light of all these thoughts, i keep coming back to his song titled "the land of the free". [side note: he plays it on a charango, a small stringed instrument used in south america, the body of which is made of -- and i'm not making this up -- the shell of an armadillo.] the song, while admittedly oversimplified, is a reminder to me that perspective can be everything.

The Land of the Free

Little Elba how’s the sun in South America?
does it shine upon the faces of the poor?
do they see in it the brilliance of the place that’s been prepared
and dwell upon the hope of what’s in store?

or are they just like me? do they only see
an opportunity to complain about the heat?

Little Elba, how’s the rain in South America?
does it fall upon the rooftops of the sick?
do they thank the Lord for coming up with such a great idea
and dream about a place beyond all this?

or are they just like us? do they gripe and fuss
about the rain and mud when they’ve had too much?

(Chorus):

‘cause I’m just a little jealous of the nothing that you have
unfettered by the wealth of a world that we pretend is gonna last
they say God blessed us with plenty, I say you’re blessed with poverty
‘cause you never stop to wonder whether earth is just a little better than
the Land of the Free

well, I’m weary of the spoils of my ambition
and I’m shackled by the comfort of my couch
I wish I had the courage to deny these of myself
and start to store my treasure in the clouds

‘cause this is not my home, I do not belong
where the antelope and the buffalo roam

(Chorus):

and I’m just a little jealous of the freedom that you have
unfettered by the wealth of a world that we pretend is gonna last
they say God blessed us with plenty, I say you’re blessed with poverty
‘cause you never stop to wonder whether earth is just a little better than
the Land of the Free

so I hope you’re safe and dry in South America
‘cause I’m feeling pretty good in Tennessee
may you never be so happy you forget about your home...
your home in the Land of the Free

Words and music by Andrew Peterson.

addendum: in my valiant search for you fine readers of a sound clip of [what i thought was] a song only played live by andy p, i have found that it is a hidden track on his 2001 album clear to venus. all this time, one of my favorite ap songs, on the ONE ap cd i do not own... this greatly saddens me. i suddenly feel i NEED this cd... oh, the irony.