Old, Comfy Shoes

Wednesday, July 28, 2004

Video Scavenger Hunt

I am supposed to help come up with a list of things to do on a video scavenger hunt. For those of you who don't know what this is, I'll explain it. Every team is given a video camera and a list of things they have to video tape. Everyone must return at a certain time or lose. The team that gets the most things video taped wins. The videos really are pretty funny to watch.

Here is the small list of things that I have  come up with. I'm sure someone out there has some great ideas they would love to share....

Things that are Fun to Tape on a Video Scavenger Hunt:
1. Sing Happy Birthday to guy in a park.
2. Mow a stranger's lawn.
3. Have the front desk manager at a hotel sign your shoe.
4. Take out someone's trash.
5. Do laundry in a fountain.
6. Take a bird bath. (as in take a bath like a bird in a bird bath. Don't steal the dang thing)
7. Exchange something of yours for something of someone you don't know.
8. Do a man-on-the-street interview about mashed peas.

Things that are not fun to Tape:
1. Marching around Kroger singing "Let's go Krogering." This will get you kicked out.
2. Bringing a raw chicken into Taco Bell. Health inspectors frown on that.

Well that's all I got. Please add more ideas!


Tables Turned

Monday night we went to "minister" to an elderly couple from a local church. Seven of us invaded their home to brighten their evening with a visit. We went to encourage them.  God obviously had other plans.

We met a couple who were deeply in love with each other and more importantly in love with God. While he was in intense pain he spoke of how he knew God had a plan for the pain and a lesson to teach them. He just hoped that they would learn the lesson. He yearned to get better, not to just be done with illness, but to continue to spread the gospel. She spoke of not being able to witness in the VA hospital, but with his illness and the doctor visits they have been able to pass out over 100 Bibles there. Talk about making the most of every oppurtunity.

Their Christianity wasn't just words, but actions. They had devoted years of their lives to placing the scriptures in everyone's hand. They encouraged us to be bold in sharing our faith because in the end Christ was all that mattered.

I believe that visit ministered to us more than to them. We walked away refreshed from an encounter with the radiant beauty of two people totally surrendered to God.


Monday, July 26, 2004

What Matters

Here's a little more clarity for my last post. I know I said I wouldn't write any more personal entries, but well.... I am. If you don't like it, don't read it.

Ever read a passage of scripture that stopped you cold? You couldn't skim over it, nod your Christian "Amen" and continue as you were. You had to stop. Re-read it. Read it again. Sit there as the meaning sank in. Then sit there some more as the implications of what the passage said hit you. That was my meeting with Jer. 9:23-24 today. 

When it is all said and done, all that matters, all that is worth boasting about, is how much I know Christ.  That's it. Period. Everything else is peripheral and superfluous.

I can get the best education, climb to the top at my job, have people stop and say "Wow. There's Andi. She really did it." and not have it mean a dang thing if I don't know Christ. 

I could go into details as to how I forgot it, and how God showed me I was wrong. But that really doesn't matter. My goal isn't to tell you my story, but Christ's and what matters in that story is knowing Him.

How easily I forget that.


Sunday, July 25, 2004

Good verse to remember, easy verse to forget

Thus says the LORD, "Let not a wise man boast of his wisdom, and let not the mighty man boast of his might, let not a rich man boast of his riches; but let him who boasts boast of this, that he understands and knows Me, that I am the LORD who  exercises lovingkindness, justice and righteousness on earth; for I delight in these things," declares the LORD.

Jeremiah 9:23-24


Friday, July 23, 2004

Jr. High kids and Sharpies

I normally do not like junior high kids. It is probably because most of my junior high time was spent around junior high girls. It is a well known fact that Jr. high girl's lives are composed of drama and lots of it. Conversations normally run unpuncuated like this:

"Ohmygosh! He looked at me and I think that means that he likes me but then he looked at this other girl and kind of smiled and I bet it is because she is way prettier than me since she doesn't have braces and I just knew he didn't like me because I'm way ugly but did you see what she was wearing......" 

Although, Jr. high kids aren't all bad. They do make me laugh. Especially the two boys in the back of the bus this past Christmas. We were heading home and I looked back to see one boy, tongue sticking out, drawing on his friends face with a sharpie.

Being the responsible chaperone that I am I stepped in.

"Ummm... guys. What are you doing?"

Mister sharpie answers, "Drawing eyebrows."

"Right..... Why?"

"My friends shaved my eyebrows off in my sleep last night," said the kid getting the 'brow job. "My mom would flip if I showed up without eyebrows."

"So your friend is helping you out by drawing them on for you?"

"Yep. He's a great friend."

"Yes he is. I bet your mom won't even notice."

"That's why we used a brown sharpie," interjects the new make-up artist.

"Gotcha. She'll love the Groucho Marx 'brows for sure."

"The what 'brows?"

"Never mind. You missed a spot."
I wish I could have seen the mom's reaction. That kid's new eyebrows covered half of his forehead!


This one's for Ben

This is Toi. The Raccoon Warrior. See how fierce he is?


Wednesday, July 21, 2004


I just finished reading a book called Flabbergasted by Ray Blackston. It's a really good book; you should check it out. I would like to share with you my favorite part from the book:

I slapped my forehead during the night, near the same spot where the marshmellow had splattered. The faint buzz grew louder and only a pale splotch of moonlight shone through the window. I backhanded the blackness but missed again.

Soon it brought friends, some still faint, others withing inches of my head. I tried the forehand and the overhead smash, the but mosquitoes flew closer, teasing, lurking, suspended above me until I heard the sudden thud of a heel hitting the wall.
"They're everywhere." whispered Steve. "Got any bug spray?"
I hated whispering to a guy but did it anyway. "I thinkI saw a can under the kitche sink. Those guys are sleeping in the living room, so don't step on them."

Another thud, maybe his toe ramming the door. He said ouch under his breath. I heard skeeters circling my head and Ransom snoring in the corner.

Groping in the dark for a shirt, a towel, anything I heard the door open and the sound of a can shaking. Steve was silhouetted against the window, spraying with abandon, the buzzes converging from all corners of the bedroom.
"I think there is a hole in the screen," he said.
"Just kill them."
"I'm tryin'".  The whistling hiss of bug spray muted the snoring and the buzzing. I saw the outline of his arm swinging back and forth and up and down the window. My next swat also missed. The pale light of the window went dim.

Steve turned at said, "Here's a shot for ya."
The smell was overwhelming; my eyes burned and a stickiness lingered in the air. "What kind of bug killer is that?"

He flipped the light on to reveal long white streaks, still wet and shiny arcing across the window screen, the sea-green curtains and the sea-green wall. A smattering of tiny white dots were drying on my sleeping bag.

Steve stood motionless, blinked twice. He looked down at the can and began reading to himself, wide-eyed.
"Whatsa light on for?" mumbled ransom, finally waking.

"Steve just killed a platoon of mosquitoes with Krylon," I said. "White semigloss."


Monday, July 19, 2004

Raccoon Warrior

We have the best cat ever. His name is Toi. Here's why he's the best cat ever:
1. He lives outside. All animals should live outside.
2. He lets me pet him. This is unlike our rooster who made me bleed when I tried to pet him.
3. He chases off raccoons more effectively than Matt, the rooster and our German Shepard combined.
Now raccoons are twice the size of Toi, but not as friendly. They don't let you pet them. They are rabidly mean animals. Toi is 15 years old and by cat standards should be dead. But no. Toi is a Raccoon Warrior.
The other day my sister saw Toi creeping down the driveway. Crouching under the car he waited. In the fading light my sister saw the raccoon waddle out of the woods. Toi waited until the raccoon passed by the car and then leapt out and attacked the raccoon. The raccoon quickly retreated back into the woods never to be seen again.
Our German Shepard doesn't chase off raccoons. She runs from Toi. Both Toi and the dog run from the rooster. I think the rooster and the raccoons are plotting Toi's demise.


Sunday, July 18, 2004

Dogs, Barbies and Cars

I just gave the dog a bath and she promptly headed to the creek to roll in the mud. Just you wait dog. I will get you one day. And your little girl too.
There is a barbie doll arm sticking out of the dirt by our back door. There is a leg in the garden by the creek. Silent testaments to the eccentric workings of my mom. She found them in the mulch she got at the community free mulch pile. Now they decorate our gardens.

Nothing makes me more mad than people who treat me like I am stupid. Especially guys at hardware stores and auto parts store. No, I may not know everything thing there is to know about a car - but don't treat me like I don't know what a spark plug is.
I won't shop at Home Depot anymore. Mr. I-know-what-insulation-you-need-and-you-don't made sure of that. Anyone who calls me sweetie and tells me that I don't want sound proofing insulation when I've told him I did about a million times can just cram it.
Sorry. A little tirad. Brought on by a rude auto parts store employee. I'll not be shopping at the Advanced Auto Parts store anymore. The people at the Auto Zone are always much nicer.


Saturday, July 17, 2004

Click it or Ticket

This may not be the most thought out argument but here we go.
There shouldn't be a law requiring people to wear motorcyle helments. I think people are stupid if they don't wear one, but the government shouldn't make them wear a helment.
Because that's not the government's job. The government is there to pave roads and make sure its citzens don't kill each other. Not to mandate personal safety.
But people die when they don't wear a helment.
Yes they do. But should the government tell us not to act foolishly? No. They need to back up off my grill and stop meddling in my life. Let me kill myself in a motorcyle accident if I want.
But everyone's insurance will go up.
Yes. And that sucks. But I think insurance companies should refuse to cover people who don't wear helments, or require a higher premium for them.
I also don't think the government should require seat belts to be worn for the same reason.
That's all. I'm off my soap box and done with my random tirade.


Friday, July 16, 2004

Office Space

I'm getting moved to a cage at work. My desk will reside inside a partition box which insanely optimistic people call a cubicle. I won't really be part of a cubicle maze, since there is only one wall of cubicles, and 4 rooms generally do not constitute a maze.
I will however probably shrivel up and die in my box. No one would know either, because they are all stuck in their own little cubicles as well. I'm moving from a large room with 15 students working in it - to another large room with cubicles and 5 people.
I told my supervisor that I would probably end up standing on my desk to look over my walls at people. Stephen agreed that cubicles will definitely decrease productivity, cause employee morale to plumment and increase mental health care costs. In short it would be an HR nightmare. I thought we had a strong case, but I guess not. We are still moving. Although Brenda did agree to take out a wall and let Stephen and I share a cubicle AND A WINDOW.
Yes. That's right. A window. Watch out world I'm movin' up!


Wednesday, July 14, 2004


This past weekend at the company picnic we had a 100 ft slip-n-slide. I love my job!

We covered the plasic in soap to make the ride faster. Unfortunatly the plastic didn't cover the entire hillside. Hitting the grass made for some funny, yet sometimes painful situations.

When the plastic ended you were sprayed with soap, mud and grass.

After a while we came up with some creative ways to go down.

Not sure what he's doing... cheerleading maybe?

Some raced each other down.

Others went down like a fully clothed penguin.

Some stunts turned out to be really painful.

Like for these guys.

That slip-n-slide was a blast! I can't wait unti next summer when we do it again!


Tuesday, July 13, 2004

Federal Marriage Amendment

As you know, the Federal Marriage Amendment is up for debate in Congress. The Senate will vote on this in a few days. Please let your Senators and Representatives know what you think of the Federal Marriage Amendment.

Send an e-mail to your Senators, State Representative and President Bush.

For more information on why marriage needs to be protected and Senator's current stands visit Focus on the Family


Monday, July 12, 2004


I don't eat the bottom two corners of my sandwich. The top two are ok cuz you have to eat them to get to the rest of the sandwich, but the bottom two are just too much crust. What are other people's choices for handling bread crust? Any good crouton recipes?

Tonight we went to the madness that is Edgewood. We went with the intention of helping sort clothes for their clothing closet as this was discussed during two phone conversations. When we were arrived we were greeted with, "Hey, the kids will be here in about 2 min. I think he's bringing about 20."

Freak out time. Massive rattling my brain for games to play with no supplies.

It was all ok when Darrion got out of the van, tackled me with a hug and said "ANDI! I have missed you soo much." 4 months is too long to be away from those kids.

So we played some tag, sidewalk chalked on everything but the sidewalk and acted out the Good Samaritan ghetto style. I love those kids.


Saturday, July 10, 2004

Office Bullies

I've always wondered how bullies came to be bullies. Were they born with the desire to torment those around them? Did bad home lives create psychological conditions that bred bullyish behavior? Or did one morning some kid wake up and decide to be a bully from there on out?

I would suggest that all of those are very good possibilities but not an all-inclusive list. I believe that some bullies become such by accident. Some strange twist of fate places them in the wrong place at the wrong time and without realizing it they have become a bully.

That's what happened to me. How? you ask. I drank someone's juice box. That's what bullies do. They drink other kids juice boxes. I am now the office bully. Yes, we drink juice boxes at my office. Let me explain.

First, my company provides free pop, coffee and juice. Well juice boxes are cheaper than bottled juice, so those who are health conscience sit around drinking juice boxes. We look like an overgrown kindergarten class at snack time.

Second, we have weekly meetings to discuss what each group is working on. We call them Tech Chat because most of the engineers talk about their success and failures in the labs. They provide food at these meetings. So one week I walk into the meeting a little late and there are 4 juice boxes sitting on the table near the door. I assume they are part of the provided food and drink one. They weren't. As soon as I finish drinking it I realize that the guy in front of me brought them in to drink with his lunch.

I wasn't sure what to do at that point. I could play dumb and not mention it or I could apologize. I decided to play dumb - it seemed like the best option. Although now I am the girl who drinks people's juice boxes. The office bully. Crap.


Wednesday, July 07, 2004

He said WHAT?!?!

Words can kill. We all know that. One off-handed comment can ruin a day and create tears. In tribute to hurtful stupidity I have compiled a list. I call it my "things-that-you-should-never-say-to-someone-who-has-professed-their-undying-love-to-you" list.

These are things that really were said. One I said and one was said to me. The other comments my friends had the fortunante experience of either saying or hearing.

In no particular order, here they are:

1. "It's strange that I am dating you. I am normally attracted to tall, brainy guys."

2. "It would take something desperate for us to date."

3. "If you are trying to date me, you are doing a really bad job."

4. "In the scope of eternity, it really doesn't matter if we date or not."

5. "I think our relationship was just closure for me."

There you have it. If you have any more you want to add, please let me know!


Tuesday, July 06, 2004


This weekend I went to the festival downtown. It was highly enjoyable; there were some great bands that were there and the fireworks were amazing. I was however, disappointed by the lack of patriotism that was shown at said festival. Granted, the theme of the festival was celebrating the cultural diversity of our country, but shouldn't we also celebrate our country on the day set aside for doing so?

Now don't get me wrong, I enjoy seeing Brazilian dances that teach the art of fighting and I'm all for Aboriginal artwork, but I also love my country and would at least like to see a flag flying somewhere. I think playing music during a fireworks display is awesome, but what does "When a Man Loves a Women" or Arthea singing about "RESPECT" have anything to do with the freedom we have in the United States?

I really don't see that they do.

Besides being decidedly unpatriotic, the festival did allow me to run into some interesting people. The drunk people trying to Salsa were probably at the top of the list. As were the 15 year olds who hit on 21 year olds. That's just gross.

It was also a good reminder that not everyone I went to High School with is as interested in other people's lives as I am. This makes for awkward conversations that are hard to end. Next time I'll just let them walk on by. I can catch them at our reunion in a couple years.

The 4th of July parade in my hometown was more patriotic by an order of magnitude and then some. I'll post pictures once I get them developed. These are photos of everything except for my mom and sister's float. I ran out of film before they got to me. Yep. Felt like a moron who doesn't look at the counter. But in my defense they were float number 43. It took a while to get to me and I took a lot of photos in the mean time.


Sunday, July 04, 2004

Hi, I'm with the...

I have a job working as Business Intern at a local R&D firm. I love my job, because normally I don't have to do typical intern stuff. Occasionally I am asked to file papers, price office equipment or prepare power point, but generally I get to do cool things like write press releases and help start companies. I do however make coffee. But everyone does. At least those who drink coffee do. The expectation is that if you take the last cup - you better make some more, otherwise there are some very cranky engineers running about. That's no good. And since the president of the company showed me how to make the coffee, I don't feel like it's beneath me to do so.

The other day I had a very interny job to do. Call a list of companies with the same industrial code as ours. Now this code covers all R&D firms, but I was looking specifically for companies that deal with optics to inform them of a new optics networking group.

I couldn't find a way to NOT sound like a telemarketer. "Hello, my name is Andi and I am with the Ohio Optics Consortium..." Definitely sounds like a telemarketer.

"Hi. My name is Andi. Have you ever heard of the Ohio Optics Consortium?" That was even worse.

So I went with: "Hi. My name is Andi and I was wondering if your company did any work in optics." Sounds like a telemarketer that is trying to hide the fact that they are a telemarketer, but it was the best I could do.

Anyway, I got some pretty interesting responses. Most of these companies are small, one man operations out of someone's basement. So I got a lot of wives answering the phone. One wife didn't know if her husband worked in optics because she "didn't know what he does in that garage."

Another wife cussed me out in Spanish and told me never to call again. At least I think she cussed me out. I don't know Spanish, but tone-of-voice can say a lot.

But my favorite response was from the Nuclear Physicist that I called. Our conversation went something like this:

"Hi my name is Andi and I am with the Ohio Optics Consortium and I was wondering if you did any work in optics?"

"Optics? No. Don't do anything there. I'm a Nuclear Physicist."

"Oh. Ok. Thank you sir. Have a great day."

"I make nuclear bombs. So if you ever need a nuclear bomb, I'm your man."

I wasn't really sure what to say to that. I've never had someone offer to make me a nuclear bomb before. "Ok. Well thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

"(laughter)... Actually I'm on the other end of it. I make sure other people can't make them."

Still thoroughly weirded out... "Umm... OK"

"What do you say you do again?"

"We are a network of optics professionals in Ohio." Doesn't sound as impressive as building nuclear bombs.

"Oh. Well if you ever come up with a good laser scope, I could use one for my gun."

"You'll be the first to know. It was nice talking with you. Have a great day."

Yep. A guy in my hometown offered to build me a nuclear bomb and asked for a laser scope for his gun in the same conversation. That's just not normal.


Thursday, July 01, 2004

Quiet Lessons

Take note of this post. You may never see one like it again. I am generally not in favor of personal blogs that share every bit of information about a person. Normally it's too much information. But tonight, I would like to share some personal things.

Because God is so great.

I started this summer very discouraged. I didn't know where my passion had gone. The things I did, I did because people wanted me to do them. That's a crappy way to live, and an even crappier way to do ministry.

This summer would be the summer of NO. I wasn't going to do anything just because people wanted me to. I had to find my passion first. What one thing did God want me to do? I wanted to run after something with all my strength - I just needed God to point me in the right direction.

So I started praying for a passion. I started praying for a desire for God, His Word and His people. This is what I learned.

My passion is Christ. Peroid. I need no other passion. He alone is what I need to run after. It's simple and I had gotten sidetracked with all the activity of ministry and forgotten why I was ministering.

Slowly the passion for Christ is returning and out of that is flowing a desire for ministry. I am beginning to see people as His creations. I am starting to listen more. I see the value of attending a Bible study I don't lead. My friends and I have started keeping each other more accountable.

None of this happened because of me but because the God I serve is so great. Because He answers people when they seek Him. Because His love reaches me at my level. Because He will never leave me.

I can't find a better passion than Him.


Swing Dancing

I went swing dancing again tonight. I hadn't been in a while and I had forgotten how much fun it was. I went to the lesson too. We learned a new dance step called the balboa. I liked it, although I can't tell you how many times I kicked my partners....

To one guy at SwingOut I am known not by my name, but by my church. This is generally a good thing. I want people to know what church I go to. But this guy honestly thinks my church's name is my name. Granted they both start with A's, but I have never heard of a person called "Apex".

Every week it's "HEY! Apex! How are you doing?"

"I'm fine Rich. Umm... My name is Andi. Apex is my church."

"Oh. Really? Hmmm."

Wait about 2 songs...

"Hey Apex, you want to dance?"

Oh well. I give up. At least my church doesn't have a different name. It would be weird to be called "First Baptist".