Hello…
to my readership! (That's you Paul!) I have no energy to write anything whatsoever here… or any creativity in me whatsoever, in fact.
Help me, I'm moving to France in a month!
to my readership! (That's you Paul!) I have no energy to write anything whatsoever here… or any creativity in me whatsoever, in fact.
Help me, I'm moving to France in a month!
My sister sent me this quiz today, and it's interesting. Obviously any such quiz is probably going to be a little dubious, but the results are interesting nonetheless. My sister and I came out with the same overall result, which is good to know, although underneath it she was still a raving Catholic (39%) :P
Would be interested to see what other people come out as – do we necessarily share the same doctrinal basis even within the same church?
You scored as Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan. You are an evangelical in the Wesleyan tradition. You believe that God's grace enables you to choose to believe in him, even though you yourself are totally depraved. The gift of the Holy Spirit gives you assurance of your salvation, and he also enables you to live the life of obedience to which God has called us. You are influenced heavly by John Wesley and the Methodists.
What's your theological worldview? created with QuizFarm.com |
… a long time ago, but now I've read the book. For non-Christians out there, it's not some kind of cheesy, I-don't-need-men/women manual. It's just cheesy. But anyone who cares knows that already. I'd wanted to read it for ages, and as Prinith said the other day, all the ideas I'd expressed to her were pretty much in line with Josh Harris' thinking. So I pretty much had to read it.
Turns out she was right. In spite of the strong odour of brie, the book did come close to expressing how I think God expects us to act in relationships. Although I think if a man asked my parents if it was ok for him to start pursuing marriage with me, they might fall over laughing. But better to be safe than sorry, and if a potential husband is going to have to deal with my parents for the rest of his life, he may as well start now by dealing with them finding him hopelessly backward.
I write this having had my nan just send me a note concluding: "Be true to yourself, have a happy time, perhaps a Prince Charming"... which is not unusual for her. But even my mother, who is normally a stay-away-from-men-they-will-only-ruin-your-life type started quizzing me about love interests yesterday. I'm moving to France! Get it into your heads people!
But most of all (turns up nose in self-important style), I have kissed dating GOODBYE!
Neil Morrissey just claimed that Live 8 is the biggest awareness campaign in history.
Can't help but think he's missing something.
On a different note, the thing that has struck me most so far is how much too big Kelly Jones' hair is for his head. He's not a rock star, he's a parody.
Despite slightly creepy Simply Red connotations (no fear, this blog is not about "sexin it right") there is something a bit strange about the exaggerated import of things that happen at night. For a start, everyone knows that things that happen at night always seem worse. At my most crazy, I have been known to fear that I am going to die of carbon monoxide poisoning while asleep in a friend's living room. Last week, I totally freaked out in a conversation about a murderer who had come to Christ, officially died (he has his death certificate framed), spoke to God, and came back to life. Now, there's definitely a miracle in there, but not much to incite fear… except for the fact that it was 3am. In fact, 3am seems to be a peculiarly important time, spawning at least 2 songs about its significance. The words "It's 3am, I must be lonely" say quite a lot about the way we react to emotional circumstances at night time. Something innate within us exaggerates ordinary emotional impulses, and things often appear more real.
This reality, to me, means that for some reason, I often feel like important things have to happen at night. If I need to talk to someone about something serious or meaningful, I will try to do it at night. Maybe that's because I don't think they'll have anything to run away to at that time, but I think there's more to it than that. Something about nighttime conversations makes them seem more profound—those big conversations about the meaning of life rarely happen during the day. Makes me wonder if it's just psychological or if there are scientific reasons behind it all…
When I read about this in the Sunday Times Style Magazine, I just had to write about it. You can get it online here , although it isn't quite as attractive as the glossy version with pretty pictures of ladies and cakes.
The main premise of cake dating is that drinks are unoriginal, and there's the added worry that the lady will think the gentleman is trying to get her drunk and into bed. Of dinner, the writer says that if you don't know the person, the prospect of spending several hours with someone in a restaurant is quite scary. Instead, he says:
Why not ask her out for a cake date? Gentleman, this is a daytime redezvous in the genteel environment of a posh patisserie. It is a fresh approach, and I will wager she has not been asked on one before.
He also says that cake dates are "for those tantalisingly out-of-reach women"... clearly, just like me! And, even more uncannily, I really love cakes. And patisseries are decidedly French. Say no more.
Emma
She looked at me, inquisitively.
Merging, scouring through the deathless murkiness
which lives, never dying, in spite of sorrow.
Thinking, whatever passes
can not but demonstrate what an
entirely different
sense of
finding, slowly, my nemesis;
Discursion, philanthropy, how can this
be ME. Now. Why does it rage
incessantly. Provoking lies and outrage
sage and following my LIFE.
Today or
tomorrow.
Maybe.