Today was yet another day of war with the parking ticket lady downtown; she and I are destined to have words. Last week I observed this wonderful women giving someone a $250 ticket because less than a foot of the rear of their car was within a handicap zone. I have always despised the women, but it was at that moment that I first realized that she was actually evil.

So I was running errands downtown today when I found a spot just small enough for Cabbi; I was literally inches from being even with the handicap parking sign. Just before I got out of my car, I spied the ticket lady in my rear-view mirror...she had spotted me and my potential for a fine, and I knew she would soon investigate. I exited my car completely confident that I was well within my allotted spot and went on my way. We passed on the sidewalk as she casually made her way down the street. She apparently didn't realize that I know her well enough to know her entire motivation for going that direction was my car. As I was just about to go around the corner, I turned to see if I was correct. She was standing there looking at the sign, then at my car, and back again. Disappointed, she turned back up the street where she caught my glare. She'll never get me. It is now my goal to only park in questionable spots simply to drive her crazy. Get a life you power hungry bad bad woman.

I also had another interesting run-in today...with a mailman. Now I have had several casual run-ins with him over the past couple months. On every one of these occasions there was little doubt in my mind that there was a definite interest on his part regardless of the obvious age difference. Having not seen him in a month or more I naturally said 'hello' to him today and asked him how he had been. This escalated to him following me around on a couple of my stops and then asking me if I would like to walk with him for awhile....I declined. Hmmm, in-ter-esting. He doesn't creep me out at all so it's not as if his friendliness grosses me out, it's just awkward I guess. I am very glad that I do not see him regularly because I can the situation becoming far too strange for my liking.

We have squirrels!!! In all my life there has not been a single squirrel in our yard, but today we have two. I've probably spent too much time watching them....you've got to love the little things that make you smile.

So once again I am sitting here to write and although I have somewhere around a dozen things to write about, no one coherent thought is coming to mind.

I got in an arguement with my mom today, one that I would have rather avoided. She cannot, for the life of her, understand my feelings about the church and Christianity as a whole. From the very day that I was born, Christianity has been shoved down my throat. There was church, Christian school, camps, followed by college--that one doesn't really count though. My entire life I have been forced to believe the same things as my family. Choosing to believe anything else was not an option simply because the pressure for acceptance was too strong. Honestly I cannot remember ever holding to their beliefs though; I have been a hypocrite which is probably the one characteristic that I hate most in people. I can't do it anymore; I cannot be the hypocrite that I see in mostly everyone else.
I sat in church this morning angry at the world--all of the bitterness that has been building inside me for so long came to a head. I sat there listening to the singing, the prayers, the preaching, nearly able to quote the entire service. Where is the worship in a service that has becoming so routine that you can black out for a few minutes and know exactly what you missed?
What I hate the most is that simply because I have strong opinions about what is wrong in the organized church these day, I am in the wrong--I am running from God--I'm the one with the problem, not the church. Apparently there is only one opinion allowed, and it's not mine.

Something I have been trying to figure out lately--at least to be able to put into words--is why I feel the need to go back to Africa. The only thing that I can say is that whenever I think about being back there and helping the suffering people that I saw on a daily basis, whenever I see video of the people, whenever I here any sounds that take me back to that time, I have to choke back tears. You may not know it. You may have never noticed, but it happens so often that I feel like I am walking around with a broken heart much of the time. I ache to go back...literally ache. If I don't return now, when it is 'ideal' (financially and professionally) for me to do so, I will forever be haunted with feelings of regret and selfishness. I realize that my choosing to go seems selfish sometimes, as if I am not considering all the feelings involved, but it seems selfish to me to choose my own personal happiness here and now over others. I have to go even though you may never understand this passion.