Do you want Fry's with that?

Last night I had the dubious pleasure of accompanying the man to a local electronics store. Before being eligible for employment at said store, one must enter the geek enhancement chamber. The potential employee is zapped with hundreds of billions of geek particles, so tiny they can embed themselves into a carbon-based life form's brain cells. He is also supplied with a permanently applied store uniform- a starched white shirt and geeky tie. Within 10 minutes of standing wide-eyed in an aisle filled with alien technology, I was feeling slightly comatose. A certified geek employee approached. "May I help you?" he asked in broken English. (His first language was obviously Cardassian.) The only response I could think of? "Are you a licensed mental health professional?" He was obviously torn between calling for security and just zapping me himself with a Zat gun. "Never mind," I muttered. At this point, I told the man I'd wait for him in the bar. Unfortunately, the strongest beverage offered was carbonated soft drinks. Be warned. If you are invited to accompany a man to this store, no matter how hot this guy is, RUN, do not walk to the nearest exit. Or call homeland security.

Remember: there are 10 kinds of people in the world: those who understand binary, and those who don't.

My Friend

If anyone reads this, I have a request. Please pray for my friend. I will not give her name, but God knows it. He knows all about her. That she has had a hard life. That she has made bad choices. That she is angry and bitter and doesn't want anything to do with 'religion.' (She doesn't know there's a difference between religion and Jesus Christ's offer of free salvation. YET!) Because she is so angry about religion, I am very careful what I say to her. I hope my life will say it better anyway.

I had lunch with her today. She is over medicated and spacey, and yet still is looking for answers. I prayed beforehand and asked God to make it clear to me if this was a time to share. Somehow, the time didn't seem to come. I was able to do a favor for her, and while we were driving around she commented about how "You're just too understanding" with a tone of voice that said "and weird" in my reaction to an impatient driver. (Oh, I'm glad she's not always in the car with me!)

She needs Jesus so much. And as I look at her and hear her stories, I know that except for what He has done in my life, I would be so much like she is. Angry, bitter, lonely. I am praying that I will not miss the right opportunity to tell her about Him. Maybe I just need to jump right in there and share my life story. Please pray for her. And please pray for me.... I need wisdom and discernment. And boldness. And caution.

Blessed be the Bonds that Tie

One more, and the melodrama will finally be over. It's been dissected, re-dissected and dissected again. Is he juiced? Was he juiced? Does it matter? Should it matter? Enough already. It is what it is. MLB has created a monster. Let them deal with it. Meanwhile, let's get back to baseball and pennant races. And hotdogs. And little kids looking up to heroes who deserve to be heroes.