i hate fire.

It is literally my worst fear. I know, I know. We aren't supposed to fear...perfect loves casts it out and such. But really. I hate fire. It destroys and hurts and, well, it hurts. My parents had to go through it last year.

So anyway, here is my "experience" for the week:

I was at work yesterday when we heard this crazy explosion outside. I looked out my window to see smoke coming out of a grate and then this blue-green fire. Apparently, some guys were doing electrical work and a transformer ended up blowing. We heard an announcement to turn off all computers, and then eventually the electricity went out. We watched as firetrucks started pulling up and guys in big heavy suits started trying to put out the fire. About 20 minutes later we were evacuated from the building and told that due to the dangerous levels of carbon monoxide we couldn't come back until Thursday.

(photo by KFox)

See the Times Square Church sign? My office is the corner office 2 windows above the sign. Check out a news report and video of the fire here.

Anyway, I'm glad no one was seriously injured (and that I'm off of work today!) Hope you all had a wonderful Tuesday, and I look forward to hearing from you!

Love,
Jessi

happiness. a rip off.

So I'm totally ripping this post off of a friend of mine who wrote on happiness and what it means. (Like, if I get everything I've ever wanted I'll be happy. FALSE!)

Anyway, I was reading her post (which actually happened to be a rip off of Anthony de Mello's "The Way of Love" - but at least we gave credit where credit was due!) and it really moved something in me. I am always looking towards the future and how much happier I will be when I get married and when I have my own house and when I have a puppy. Happy happy happy!

But you know what? I also thought I would be happier if I got out of Birmingham, or got back together with my ex-boyfriend, or let my hair grow out. Silly, silly girl. I have all of that now, and what am I doing? Still looking for happiness. Because your circumstances and situations do not make you happy. Knowing who you were created to be, knowing that you have purpose in this world, knowing that you are loved by the creator of the universe (which, p.s., is kind of a big deal) - that is what can make you happy, if you let it.

So as Mr. de Mello suggests, I plan to do the following: "Make a list of all your attachments and desires and to each of them say these words: 'Deep down in my heart I know that even after I have got you I will not get happiness.' And ponder on the truth of those words."

He also said this awesome quotable: "The fulfillment of desire can, at the most, bring flashes of pleasure and excitement. Don’t mistake that for happiness."

Ok friends, I am off to list the meaningless attachments and desires I have so that I can then rebuke them. I dare you to join me.

Love,
Jessi


p.s. check out the rest of Jena's post here

some simple pleasures.

Hello my loves! Ok, now I must tell you about some things that have made me happy over the last couple of days.

1) Your comments! My goodness, how good it is to have friends. Even more so for friends that I have not met. Thank you so much for sharing your stories with me. I was so incredibly thrilled that so many of you decided to take part in sharing your experiences with me. Totally the highlight of my week. Here's hoping I can now keep up with my commitment to share my own experiences, pleasures and accomplishments with you!

2) A young Latino. Ok this is going to sound so racist. But let's be honest. I'm not racist. At all. (In fact, I'm still praying for a miraculous miracle that would allow me to have biracial babies if I marry a white guy.) So anyway. I was on the train the other day, and this old white lady sneezed, and then this young thug-tacular latino next to her looked at her with the kindest eyes and said "God bless you." That's it. I know it's crazy. But there was just something so beautiful about this big dude with his black yankees cap and mechanic's jumpsuit saying God bless you to this old lady in her khaki trenchcoat - I just melted.

3) I have tomorrow off. Praise the Lord. And I mean that, because He is the reason I get the day off :)

So those are a few of my "pleasures" for the week...and yours??? Experiences and accomplishments to come (I hope).

Love,
Jessi

let's talk about our feelings.

So they interchanged their small experiences, accomplishments and pleasures, and both were the better, as well as the happier, for it; because in this way only can we truly love our neighbor as ourself, and get the real sweetness out of life.

-Louisa May Alcott, Under the Lilacs.

I like starting things with quotes. Mostly because other people say stuff better than me.

I love it when people share with me. And not just their food or toys, though I love that too. I like getting to know people - you know, what makes them "tick" as they say. I want to know why in the world you tilt your head to the side every time I talk to you. Is this your way of letting me know you are listening? Or maybe your way of making me think you are listening while your thoughts wander elewhere? I dunno. But I want to.

As Louisa says, knowing each other is the only way we can truly love each other. I mean think about it - how am I supposed to love you if I don't really know you?

So tell me, what are your experiences and accomplishments and pleasures?

No really, I want to know.

Oh my gosh, I just had the best idea. Just now. Ok here it is. Every week, I am going to post a new experience, a new accomplishment and a new pleasure. Holy dude man, that is 3 posts a week, plus my usual ramblings. Can I really do this? Yes. Maybe. You won't hate me if I fail? I'll try really hard not to fail. But here's the deal - I want to hear yours too.

Let's be friends k?

And hopefully something exciting happens tomorrow so I don't bore your pants off...

Love,
Jessi

the subway part 2.

Oh dear. The Subway. I love it, I do. As I've mentioned before, it is the only place I can appropriately cuddle with strangers - a pleasure indeed. But then sometimes you get on a train with an obnoxious starved-for-attention teen. Bless his little heart. I really wanted to give him a good ass-kickin. But alas, I knew it wasn't the most loving thing to do, and I am all trying to learn how to love and stuff.

Here's what happened:

I am on a packed train, blessed with a seat and trying to catch up on some sleep, when three 16-ish year olds get on, one obviously a bit eccentric with his bleached afro-hawk and nose piercing and multiple tatoos, jewelry and red and black checkered skinny jeans. Dear boy. At first I wanted to be his friend. And then, he starts giggling with his friends and rapping Eminem's "Under the Influence" as loud as he could. Over and over again. I have refrained from writing out some of the lyrics here, so as not to do the same thing to you that he did to me. But you can click the title if you are super curious. Suffice it to say that it was obvious that he admired Eminem's disregard for what other people thought.

But then here's my thing: If he really did not care about what other people thought, why oh why did he make such a point of trying to get a reaction out of everyone around him (including the poor girl who tried getting on the train and was met by this strange boy humping the air)??

What is up with this generation? Are they so starved for attention that they will actually go to the extremes of wanting someone to get angry? Maybe I shouldn't generalize to the whole generation - I know not everyone is like that. But seriously, it made me so sad. What was going through his head? Is he so insecure that he wants to overcompensate by acting like he doesn't care? Do his parents completely suck? I wish I could understand people like him. I wish I could be his friend and show him that he can be loved, that he is in fact loved. How he doesn't need to try and incite a reaction out of someone to get attention.

Ugh. But I am no one. And talking to him would have ended with him laughing in my face and getting exactly what he wanted - a reaction. I hate being so helpless in these situations. I mean I don't want to pretend like I know what's going on in his head, but at the same time I know that something is going on, you know?

Well, I just pray that he meets someone who can talk to him. Who does have some kind of a say in his life and his future. Cause I mean, if he harnesses that energy and outgoingness for good, he will be a force to be reckoned with. Fo shizzle. Ha, maybe then we could be friends. :)

dude man i'm famous.

Ok not quite. And I really hope that I never am. But my blog is up on bloginterviewer.com. Check it out. You can even vote for me and make me feel better about myself if you want.

the subway.

the subway is a new experience for me, now living in new york city. it is the one and only place i've ever been where personal space is not allowed. i love it.

that's what it's all about.

And I am not talking about the Hokey Pokey my friends (though that is quite a worthy subject). I was inspired about some of the things my new friends were saying on the previous post about grace, and really wanted to touch on, well, a very touchy subject.

Church.


How many of you have been hurt by The Church? (I use its proper noun form when I mean the people who make up what we call The Church, not the building itself of course. Unless a church fell on you, or you tripped over an old rug and bumped your head and got a concussion...ok I digress...) Anyway, I'm being serious here. Who is mad at The Church?

Ok I'll start. I am.

Can I vent for a second? I hate it when churches invest millions of dollars in fancy chairs and a fancy stage and other things that don't seem too important WHEN THERE ARE STARVING PEOPLE OUTSIDE THEIR DOOR. Now I do understand wanting the House of God to be warm and welcoming, and even beautiful (I mean, ancient Jewish temples were immaculate, but in a good way usually. They lived in reverence to God and wanted His House to be the most beautiful place they entered...but of course there is a fine line between revering God and merely trying to please Him [remember grace?] but that's a whole different story.)

So that's part I do hate. The selfish, striving, "I'm right and you're wrong" kind of attitude.

But that isn't why I go to church every Sunday.

Yesterday I went to this great little church in East Harlem. The worship team might not have made it too far on American Idol, but they loved the Lord, and they sang to Him. Everyone was dancing and shouting and praying out loud. And smiling.

I looked over to my right and saw a woman leaning against the wall. She was obviously not feeling too good, and kept rubbing her neck - it looked like she had some back pain. I saw a woman in the row in front of me get up and go over to her and start rubbing her shoulders and talking to her. She kept rubbing her shoulders for a while. That other woman started smiling.

That's what it's all about my friends.

Like I've said many times before, people screw up. And unfortunately, people have given The Church, and Christ himself, a bad name. But you don't go to church because of those people. You go to church to worship the one who made you, and to love those whom He made.

I encourage you to find a place where these people are - people who love the Lord and people you can relate to. People you can find fellowship and friendship with. I promise they are out there. And it has made all the difference in the world to me.

Love,

Jessi