Church Tourism

I talked with someone a while ago about how I like to visit churches. There's even a post or two below about the careful processes behind it. I don't consider myself a church tourist, of course, because the implication behind that phrase is a disinclination to attach oneself to a given church. And I am far from disinclined. I am eager for the Church I will call Home. I think I have such a one in Long Beach, but I know that I am hesitant there. Not because of theological disagreements, although I know I have a few. Not because of the people or the preaching or even the largeness of the space. If anything were to deter me, it would certainly be the presence of a coffeeshop on the church grounds - but strangely, that's not it either. It's the general feeling of nomadism that I still have. I will settle in a church when I settle in myself. But I am still unsettled.

One of my favorite bloggers just posted about her own church 'tourism', and I was delighted to read it. I am always delighted to read about good experiences in the Orthodox church, because I have a not-so hidden love for them. They are still my least familiar of the churches (I have only once attended an Orthodox service), but perhaps for that reason, I have this sneaking suspicion I will be Orthodox one day. I may be sixty years old when it happens. I may never officially 'convert'. But I associate it with all the possibilities of resting after restlessness. Perhaps, perhaps....


It has been a long time since I've actually blogged about my life. There's a reason for that, and it mostly has to do with work. As long as work people have access to my blog, there are certain things I can't be wildly open about - like starting my own business.

Of course, this is not a problem if you quit. Which I just did.

Out of the blue? Yes. But then again, no. I have known I would quit as soon as publishing got off the ground for a while. I jumped the gun by a month or two because I quickly became convinced that publishing couldn't get off the ground if I didn't devote myself to it full-time. These are the things that convinced me:

1. a release date set for one month from tomorrow.
2. two other authors waiting behind it, plus an additional e-book, all three which need to be edited.
3. the first author's first book which we may be able to get the rights to, which also needs to be edited (again).
4. needing to set up in-store events for every weekend from July through forever.
5. needing to set up radio interviews, library discussions, rotary and kiwanas talks, books groups, internet forums, and who knows what all else for all the weekdays in between.
6. repeating numbers 4 and 5 for other authors...
7. oh, why bother. the list will just go on forever.

So that's why I quit. In just over a week, I will be spending 50-60 hours a week working on a publishing company. We will be the next Penguin. Just you wait and see.


I know I can be rather critical of certain authors at times (how anyone thought D. H. Lawrence was worth reading past the first few pages of arrogant, noxious, formulaic Freudianism, I do not know), but it seems I am in good company.


It's been a while since I've linked over to my favorite blogger, so here's a brief snippet from him. Mostly I just like the quotation.


Here's one courtesy of my dad. I heart Lane Smith big time. Could one make any kind of commentary on the fact that this is a youtube video trailer I found on twitter and am reposting to my blog? Probably. But it's cute. And relevant. So, deal.


I'm still trying to figure out if this is for real. Not sure if I think it's weird or wonderful. Maybe a little bit of both?

Happy Mother's Day

It's after midnight, so I am technically late for mother's day. It's worse, really, because I didn't call my mom today either. She was at Disneyland, so it's not like she wasn't having a good time. But I should have called her on my break at work, and somehow that just didn't happen. I was too busy chasing down Ben & Jerry's ice cream. That's right. You heard me. I eat ice cream now. For dinner.

Despite my lame daughterness, my mother is pretty incredible. I missed her all day, and was severely bummed that I had to be at work instead of celebrating her awesomeness at the happiest place on earth. Barnes and Noble, you owe me. You owe me big time.

Mom, you are wonderful. Thank you for being.



This is my last day of dogsitting in Goleta. I started here on Monday, just after work, and was so distracted that when I rushed into the apartment and grabbed the dog for a walk, I couldn't remember his name. Emily had already told me he looked like an ewok, and it was true. So during the majority of his first walk (during which I had his harness on sideways - I don't know about these things!!), I kept calling him Ewok. 'Walk, Ewok Dog! Walk!' It was amusing.

During my week with Ewok, I have discovered my cell phone chewed up and paw prints on the pillows. Bad Ewok. I will not demand compensation. I was slow to notice he was also chewing up his owner's ethernet cable. We all suffer the Ewok teeth.

Only a few more minutes here, and I'm throwing my stuff back in their bags (and the Ewok back in his crate) to join the working world yet again. Perhaps now that I've been working at the store over a month, I might get there in good time to handle my parking pass. That would be convenient.

(Ewok is now chewing up his bed/blanket. Don't blame him. That thing smells nasty.)
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