I would love to see you tap dance...

Hello all! I hope that you had a wonderful weekend. I spent most of the weekend trying to get some things accomplished for school before the craziness of SING began. It is here though, and we are going full speed ahead. This weekend I saved quite a bit of money, somehow scoring free meals here and there, and I used some cash I had put away plus the money I saved not having to buy food on clothes, etc. Friday night I went on a terrific double date. We ate at Texas Roadhouse (free steak!) and then we let Wayne and Danielle hang out at the apartment while we went to see "Garden State"! Saturday I took photos of Danielle and Wayne and he bought me lunch as a thank you; he is an incredible guy! Way to go Danny-P!

If you have not seen "Garden State", you simply must go. I laughed so hard at one point that I inhaled my gum and then swallowed it. I felt like a third grader. I haven't swallowed gum in forever. I think the people around me thought I was a) hyperventilating or b) dying. If you have seen the movie, I inhaled my gum somewhere between Andrew asking Sam to get in the sidecar of his motorcycle and the part where Sam is telling Andrew about her brother being adopted from Sally Struthers-- a cup of coffee a day kid. Oh man, I lost it. It is brilliant and poignant, hilarious and raw. It's one of the best movies I have seen in a long time. It's going on the Christmas list, baby!

Okay, I want to share a quick story that I heard at church yesterday. It really affected me and I have been thinking about it ever since. Dr. Christopher told us a story about Paco and his father. Paco was seventeen years old and, having arguments with and wronging his father, he decided it was time to go out on his own and move to Madrid. When he left, his father was heartbroken. He could not stand the pain of his only son leaving. He also hated the tension that was between them because his love for his son was so great. Paco's father decided to take out an ad in the newspaper in the city where Paco lived. The ad said:
Paco,
Meet me in the lobby of the Hotel Madrid at 2 o'clock on Friday. All is forgiven.
I love you,
Dad
When his father arrived, he planned to find his son waiting for him in the lobby of the hotel. When he entered the lobby, he found 800 boys/young men named Paco waiting to reunited with their fathers.

This story is incredible. It truly reflects the human longing for forgiveness and reconciliation. When we have built walls to keep those we love away, how badly do we want to tear them down and find peace? That is human nature. When someone builds a wall against us, how much do we want to hear them say, "(Fill in your name here), meet me. All is forgiven. I love you"? We all want to be forgiven. We all want to be shown mercy and grace. In most cases, we would all jump at the chance to right our wrongs. To reconcile with the people we feel animosity towards or who feel animosity towards us. We want to receive a letter like is seen above. We want them to greet us with open arms, saying, "All is forgiven. Let's move past this." How awesome is it that we receive a letter like this in our "mailboxes" every day from God? He is calling to each of us, saying, "(Fill in your name here), meet with me today. All is forgiven. I love you." He shows us grace and mercy daily, and He knows all about us-- our sins, our wounds, our ugly parts, yet He still wants to meet with us and show us His love. I think that is amazing.

Anyway, I need to go to work, so I better stop here. I will not be writing this week. We have to be up at the school from 6-midnight all week, so any free time I have I should probably do homework instead of huddling around my computer. I hope all of you have a terrific week! I will post sometime after Sunday. Oh, and if you haven't seen "Garden State", do yourself a favor and go see it. The soundtrack is awesome too! I have had Frou Frou stuck in my head all day. I will close with my favorite quotes from "Garden State":

Sam : Hey, I recognize you.
Andrew Largeman : Oh, did you go to Columbia High?
Sam : No, not from high school, from TV. Didn't you play the retarded quarterback?
Andrew Largeman : Yeah.
Sam : Are you really retarded?
Andrew Largeman : No.
Sam : Ooh, great job man! I really thought you were retarded. I mean, you're better than that Corky kid and he's actually retarded. If there was a retarded Oscar you would win, hands down, kick his ass!

Andrew Largeman : You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff that idea of home is gone.
Sam : I still feel at home in my house.
Andrew Largeman : You'll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day one day and it's just gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I mean it's like this right of passage, you know. You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place.

Andrew Largeman : We may not always be as happy as you always dreamed we'd be, but for once, let's just allow ourselves to be whatever it is we are.

Sam : This is your one opportunity to do something that no one has ever done before and that no one will copy throughout human existence. And if nothing else, you will be remembered as the one guy who ever did this. This one thing.

Andrew Largeman : You know, this necklace makes me think of this totally random memory of my mother. I was a little kid, and I was crying for whatever reason. And she was cradling me, rocking me back and forth, and I can just remember the silver balls rolling around. And there was snot dripping all over my face. She offered me her sleeve and told me to blow my nose. I can remember, even as a little kid, thinking to myself, "This is love... this is love."

Andrew Largeman : I don't want to waste another moment of my life without you in it. This is not over. I'm not putting a period at the end of anything. I'm putting like... an ellipses on it.