Panty Ranty

God bless Godfrey for baring his soul in "I Think You're Really Hot". Groanings and moanings and all. A real kicker. I was listening to it while taking care of the kids and felt a little dirty.
Which was just a little wrong.
Check it out. It really truly is exciting. Especially the part where he really tries to get out his feelings about "little little little little panties". I feel you, bro. BUT NO ONE WILL EVER LISTEN.
Now this panties issue has been on my mind. And when I say "has been on my mind", I don't mean it's been the only thing I've been thinking about, but it has punched through now and then.
That's not to say that I don't wear small panties. I really do enjoy them. But to peek in with a subtle confession, I grew up with brothers and never had any influence as to panties or at what age one should start thinking about switching over to the stringy thingies. I was given a pair by my sister for my birthday (sisters. aren't they just the beginning of all evil?) and wore them and found that they were COMFY. I suppose probably because my Family leans toward the commando / free-willy, the smaller more non-existent undergarments appealed to me.
Stop me when this starts sounding downright gross.
Okay.
But the thing that disturbs me is the whole "wearing slutty panties" thing as brought on because girls think it's the cool thing to do. I staff OC camps and see 10 / 11 year old girls wearing Gs and get seriously disturbed. HWA? HOI? HWANG?
Okay, maybe it's not actually super disturbing. I suppose it's just going the way of all flesh. It was bound to happen. The "coming of age" threshold was bound to get lower and lower. There is no other way.
And there really is no other way to make girls understand why it's...wrong. Is it actually wrong? I suppose...it depends how constipated and conservative you are.
BUT THEY'RE SHAVING NOW TOO!!! Like, before it even has a chance to grow!!!
Okay okay I'll stop.

I MISS EUGENE!!!!

It's good to be home. I'm glad to be home. I'm happy that I'm one of the few people who is blessed with a HAPPINESS at being home. None of the post-camp blues. I don't usually have those, actually.
Thing that excites me is thinking about all the wonderful things we read and all the fantastic inspiration I acquired at the camp, and concentrating it all on my life at home. It challenges me, because that's the battle-ground...that's where you prove just how much of a disciple you are. The prospect of fighting and making it one step at a time, of riding the wave of inspiration, of experiencing mightier thrills at home, is one that excites me BEYOND MEASURE.
Yes, just a little beyond slimy hugs from naked Mike.
(Which, by the way, was a lovely birthday present.)

Wish me happy birthday, everybody. 17 it must be.
And I put my hand to my head and lament at how I've managed to remain a pathetic blogger for yet another year.

I might have pictures from the camp. Just a few. Probably not many.
M.i.g.h.t.

It was really inspiring to be an uninhibited disciple this year. Really loving the Word classes, really feeding off of the Lord's love, just LOVING to raise my hands and close my eyes and praise the Lord. Reaching for the Spirit. You reach for it and it's there, bro, let me tell you. Jesus is wonderful.

AIP

Iso iso iso iso isoganakucha!!!
So in true Florence style, I've left everything until the last minute. Now I have a few hours to get it all done. Packing, shopping, cleaning, reviewing, learning...
I like stress.

see ya in...6 days? 7 days? 5 days? what was it?

Gird your loins, for there cometh a time when a lengthy post followeth

Here is Mom, Dad and Flo sitting at the computer contriving a happy way to wish a happy birthday to our favorite oldest daughter/sister, etc. Mom keeps coming up with things like "A photo history. How about that? Or, or, or, 'in honor of my sister'." Smart cookie.
So here we go.

In Honor of My Sister: A Photo History

How 'bout that for a friendly couple? Well I wouldn't know, I'm not accustomed to looking at my parents and going "Awwww...they're so cute!" but I DO know that I like Dad's moustache and hair. Talk about cosmic, seriously cool. Been trying to get him to grow out a handlebar moustache for a long time.
AAAAAND she drops like a bomb. Kaboom.
Well. I have no words. You were cute. Didn't look a thing like me. Still, you're cute.
Dressed up in your Ecuadorian singing clothes at Grandpa's house in Canada.
In front of your house in Guayaquil, Ecuador.
WHERE HAVE ALL THE WHISKERS GONE? Clean-shaven Dad and Sunny with the beautiful smile.
Chiyoko-chan!
Goodie. A horse picture.
Do, Re, Mi, Fa, So, La, and Ti--the whole clan minus Dan (subtle rhyme)
Ar. We are Raquel and Chiyoko hailing from...Scotland? Merr Crismus.
Alright. Here we go. It's time to get into the Family photos. Dan the bruiser, and Florence the squinty-eyed. I'm wearing a see-through shirt. Sexy. I still remember that shirt.
SEMPAI!!!
Hi Grandpa John! He has his hand on little John!
There's that beautiful smile again.
Hahaha, Steve looks so smooth, he has his hands in his pocket and everything. Such a happy family.
This is one of my favorite pictures ever. You look so pretty, Mom looks so pretty, and Dan is like...smirking in the middle.
Enter, the man we call...TIMO!!!
I remember this time you came over to visit. We were feeding the koi over the bridge, do you remember? We played table tennis and everything.
Well, you did it! Great job!
I REMEMBER THIS! I specifically remember wrapping Brandon's presents. I probably did a terrible job, not that he noticed. It's Grandma Patty!
We miss you guys. Have a happy happy new year. Lots of love from Mom, Dad, Flo and Dan.

Itchy Bandaid

I was going to type in "I Am You and You are Me" as the title for this post (don't ask me why) but when I got as far as the first letter, 6 titles of previous posts popped down just in case I was going to name a new post the same title as an old post, and wanted to save myself the time of typing it all out again. So I decided to avail myself of this convenience, and name this post "Itchy Bandaid", which I imagine is the name of a post that has gone down in the past; probably by Elaina since it's very poetic, and something I could never manage on my own.

You know, I had such complete and pure satisfaction at having posted something the other day, that I had difficulty realizing that it's become 4 days later and yet another blogging emergency, and am still riding on the feeling of fulfillment that I had 4 days ago. Still thinking that I bit the blogger bug...still thinking "there, I've gotten rid of that nagging feeling for at least four days."
AHHHH and the blessed 4 days are OVVERRRR!!!
You know, blogging has become a REAL pain. Want me to say it again? A REAL, REAL PAIN, as real as chemotherapy or labor.

Tomo my pal came to visit me for a grand total of 6 hours today. He wasn't "in the area" or "visiting a nearby home". He had to take a 2 hour train ride to get here and a 2 hour train ride to get back. Long walk, part of gift. 6 hours? Who's really counting anyway?
Everybody, SE NO
Awwwwww!!!

We went to Disney on Ice yesterday, and saw ice skaters dressed in outrageous costumes trying to pull off "Finding Nemo". We had real close seats and everything, but because my glasses are still vacationing in TNT home, I wasn't able to see much. Everyone was commenting on the handsomeness and strange expressions of the american ice skaters, and it was pretty sad to hear about everything I missed. But STILL. It was fun, cause I believe it's the first time I've never actually seen an ice-skating rink or people skating on ice with my own two eyes.

Hey, guess what? AIP camp is in 5 days. When you know what to expect and you've been going to camps for 3 years, it kind of creeps up on you. I think the whole camp experience gets TOTALLY screwed up (not necessarily in a bad way) because we have past experience and expectations.

And that's the end of my random news. See you again in four days. That seems to be the running span between posts.

happy story to serve the purpose of nipping bottoms

Just to nip this whole "I-hate-updating-my-blog" virus in the BOTTOM (since I think biting bottoms is kinky) I will post.
It's just that...I just got home from witnessing with the Baysiders and I was sitting here resting my eyes thinking of what is on the top of my list of priorities for this evening, when I realized that I had just done something fun and inspiring, and if I didn't blog about it NOW, I never would. For some reason, I'm really proud of myself for doing this.
I'm closing my eyes (cause they hurt) and typing. It feels nice. It feels like I'm exploring a dark tunnel and pulling words out of the dungeon of my mind. Sigh, if only the words were actually clever. Not stupid cliches like "the dungeon of my mind". Who wants to hear that stuff? If the words were in the dungeon there's probably a good reason they're there in the first place anyway.
Annnnyway.
I went out witnessing. I was able to bring 5 souls to Jesus, and sing one song with the Street Lights! I was able to talk with Masa for about 5 minutes total.

I WOULD ALSO LIKE TO SHARE WITH YOU MY COMPELTE AND SPLENDID EUPHORIA AT HAVING A NICE PIANO AT LAST. I AM SO BLESSED, I DO NOT DESERVE IT, AND JESUS IS MY FOREVER FRIEND. AND UNCLE MICHAEL TOO. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT, LA LA LA LA. THANK YOU!!!!
Masa, tell Mr. Fogarty how much I really really really am glad.
And to you, I remain, affectionately, Florence of the superspeedy fingers. Superspeedy!

the delightfully arousing cold

Today is a wondrously cold day.
I've been having problems at night with my flimsy sheets, but last night I took precautionary measures and fought offensively against the enemy of cold, and I was warm and cozy. The first of winter cozy beds has begun!!!
I wore the only sweater I had near at hand today, my sweater that says "Head will give you more excitement" on it. Everyone in my home likes it, except that it's a pee-yellow color, which accentuates my sickliness. No, I'm not expecting anyone to say stuff like "Florence! You're beautiful!" or "You're so healthy looking!" I know, I know these things...but right NOW I have a cold. So I look sickly. It's just another part of life that I have to accept. We can't all be beautiful all of the time.
I'm happy. Winter makes me happy. Winter makes me feel blessed. Winter makes me feel fulfilled. Winter makes me feel like a child of the Most High, holy and forever sacred be his name.
Winter is not only responsible for the conception of libras (that glorious sunsign), but it's also the cause of erect nipples, which are always sexy things. Winter is a time for Christmas cheer. ANY cheer, no matter where it comes from, is a FINE THING!!! Lead on, O winter eternal. We follow not with fear, for gladness springs like morning where'er thy face appears, etc etc.

I look at our cliche-ing banner and think of Elaina, and how, if she had the time, she'd be writing posts of far more worth (and far more meaningless randomness) than this one.

Steve

The whole Steve Irwin thing really freaks me out. And I'm serious. I don't just mean...is like...interesting news. It actually gives me a yucky feeling in my tummy.
I mean, that guy was invincible. That's why he got so famous, is because he typified every human's desire to be strong and fearless, so people enjoyed watching him. He had a huge responsibility as a celebrity of one of the highest sort. We trusted him not to go and die on us. I know that sounds retarded, but it's exactly why it disturbs the world that he's dead. It's like everybody finally has to admit that no one can play with nature. No one is strong enough to tempt the Queen. And all this time we had these timid hopes.
Cause like, in the beginning, everyone watches him out of morbid curiosity. Driven fear. And you're thinking, "What an idiot, what an idiot! Get out of there!" Of course he never listens to your thumping heart and he continues to go everywhere that he shouldn't be.
And then he starts to grow on you. He's a hero for the kind of people who die in their livingroom and aren't found until weeks later when the postman "detects a smell". Because he was what everyone wants to be--insane. Everyone called him insane. Everyone wants to be insane.
You learn to rely on him for your hope of humanity. Hope is something humanity has very little of, so the little that we have is very important. We're all shocked that a crocodile-riding aussie has been awarded so much of our hope--because we didn't know how much hope we had placed in him until he died.
Somehow, it's the most bitter feeling, because it took a while for everyone to trust him at first. First he was crazy, and then he became a diety. First he was stupid, and then he was valiant. First he was dangerous, and then he became courageous. And just when he finished convincing us that he was what we all wanted to be...
He like...died and stuff.
Anyway, the interesting thing is how the minds of humans work. Like, how we always need to throw our aspirations on other people because we don't have the courage ourselves. It's really odd how so many people feel so let down by Steve Irwin because he died. It's not like he had a choice. If anything, he was driven to his death because we all wanted to see him to crazy things, to watch him dance his insane dance for us.
So that's like, the legacy of Steve: the man who tried to be immortal but couldn't quite. The man who tempted God. OH, like the Titanic...that...sunk.
This post has no real point, does it.

Cheers, oh lurking creature of the sea. The crocs give thanks.

Utensils

Weird thing.
When I hear sounds, guitar in particular, I always associate the sound with a utensil of some sort.
Like, oh, that's a forky kind of sound. Or a spoony kind of sound.
Retarded.
Maybe I have a weird sort of disease like John Mayer, and if I blend the utensils together, I can make heavenly music...?
No?