What's in Your Fanny Pack?

Recently, I was fashionably-inspired by a man that I respect. His sense of style is absolutely fearless. It caused me to wonder ... am I being hypocrytical when I urge others that they can pull of anything as long as they wear it with confidence, when I myself tremble at the thought of revisiting the 80s and strapping on a fanny pack?

His black leather fanny pack caused me to remember my own neon orange pack. Ah, those were the days! I remember when I was 9 or 10 having a yard sale where I was getting rid of most of my toys. At one point during the day, I had over $300 dollars strapped around my skinny, little waiste. I wonder what was in his? ... a calculator? ... a protractor? ... an unfinished manuscript for his next publication?

So I put the following questions to you.

1. What did your fanny pack look like? (notice that I did not ask if you had one. I know that you did!)

2. What was the most interesting thing you remember keeping in it?

3. What do you think is in [insert a favorite professor/mentor's name]'s fanny pack?

For those interested in a comprehensive history of the fanny pack, click on this link.

a little known fact

I, Christine Hnat, have not used a stapler at all this semester. Oh yes, I have plenty of staples ... and I've handed all of my papers in with staples at a nice 45 degree angle in the top left corner when they required one. But I never used a stapler ... I don't have one. I wonder if I can go the entire rest of the semester just sticking them in by hand?

lost my socks

I don't know where they are. I walked into Target with them on ... but when I left ... my socks were nowhere to be seen.

I was walking around getting a few "un"necessities when I sat down to try on a pair of shoes that I knew would probably be too small for me. Then ... out of nowhere he appeared ... the Sprite of Awkward Handwringing.

"Excuse me, miss. My buddies and I are on a scavenger hunt ... would you mind if I took your socks?"

"You want my socks?"

"Yes."

"For good?"

"um, Yes."

"I'm warning you ... they don't smell sweet and fresh anymore."

"That's alright."

I handed them over and *poof* he disappeared as quickly as he came.

So, there I sat ... sockless. "Well, I guess I'll go see what sort of cool, fun socks Target has to offer today."

And wouldn't you know it ... they had green/blue striped knee-high socks!

"Spiritual" Pickup Lines

I haven't been here long. But I've been here long enough to know that guys at Seminary have found a way to even make pickup lines sound spiritual. I haven't been subjected to any of them (but one); however, I've certainly witnessed a few. The easiest one is to lean over and ask the girl, "Hmm, what version are you using?" Or ... this one comes from a friend of mine: "So ... what church do you go to? Yeah, I'm still looking. Mind if I go with you sometime?" Thankfully, none but the first have been directed towards me ... but I have an idea that there are more out there.

The other nuns thought that I should take a blog survey on this. What are some of the cheesiest "spiritual" pickup lines that you've heard?

Here's a few to get you started.

"I just don't feel called to celibacy."

"Did I tell you that my great-uncle was a personal friend of Billy Graham?"

"What do you think Paul meant when he said, 'Greet everyone with a holy kiss'?"

"I'm pretty flexible--I don't think a woman should be submissive on the first date."

"Before tonight, I never believed in predestination..." (this guy probably wasn't a H.C.G.)

"I hear there's going to be a love offering tonight."

Just for the record, I'm only doing this because it brings a laugh. It's not intended make fun of anybody. I think they're funny ... so just be aware that if you use one on one of us ... I hope your purpose is to make us laugh.

festival of mullets, exploding frogs, and ugly dogs (horses?)

(Strictly Bluegrass Festival)

If your life had a theme song, what would it be? "Man of Constant Sorrows"? or "Oops, I Did It Again!" ha ha ... I'm sure at some point in your life you've heard a song and you realized that they were singing about you. The opening song to the movie of my life would be "You Alone" by Late Tuesday. The song begins like this:

"Well, I've been so independent
I've roamed the streets of Europe
And I have crossed the oceans on my own
And I've never felt the burning need
To chat with people endlessly
In fact, my favorite company was me."

--"You Alone" by Late Tuesday

I can only pray that one day the rest of my life will play out like the rest of the song, but up until now the first stanza has been very accurate. However, I have found much pleasure recently in the enjoyment of good company. Enjoy the pictures from this weekend's festivities.



Strictly
Bluegrass
Festival










Water on the Waterfront


All you L'villan couples, take note of the romantic possibilities of this place: sunset, bench swing, watching the boats pass under the bridges. You take out your Altoid box and pass it to your girlfriend. Gasp! What is that?! It's not an Altoid ... It's a diamond ring! .... ha ha ... no PLEASE, I was just joking! ... please don't get any ideas about using an Altoid box ... unless you're determined to harassed about it for the rest of your life.




Corn Island Storytelling Festival.
Braer Possom and
The Exploding Frog












Original Highlands Festival

Ha Ha ... "Keep Your Distance" is the name of a new movie that was filmed here in Louisville. It seems a bit ironic however ...


Makeup Doesn't Cure Ugly Dogs Either!


Derek Webb Concert

nuns can have fun, too

A recent visitor of my blog posted this comment: “your blog is funny. and you're cute. too bad you're a nun, or something.”

How charming ...

So, I’m a nun, huh? I thought I had a good three more years to go before I officially entered the yet-to-be-founded order of Baptist Artist Nuns (BAN, for short). My girlfriends and I in college formulated this idea in the midst of seemingly hopeless lack of marital prospects. Some were willing to begin it right away, while others, like myself, had set a condition. For instance, I would enter the order upon the condition that when I turn twenty-seven and find myself to still be single, then I would willingly commit myself to the Lord through my art and service by entering the order of BAN.

We would design our own habits and encourage the wearing of hats rather than those wretched wimples. We would spend our days studying the Word, sitting in our studio painting and designing whatever the Spirit inspired us to create, and bringing cheer to those in distress with our helpful spirits and our ridiculous antics. You could be assured that much giggling and foolishness would season our days of mercy and service.

All of us are still single (does one having a boyfriend count?) ... but very few of us still give any thought to the possibility of establishing our order. I still have three years; and I intend to enjoy them to the fullest. And who knows, but God, that my condition may not be met and that I may find myself blissfully wedded within the set time.

However, if attending seminary makes me a nun ... let it be known that nuns can still have fun. Like having Biblical Hermeneutics outside while enjoying a picnic with new friends.

(Dr. Plummer being fooled into thinking that we have been very diligent about our work.)

Waffles and Spaghetti

What do you think about these lists? Do you think they're fair? Would you add to them?

"The Things Women Want"

by Cheryl Lavin

printed in The Chicago Tribune, May 7, 2000

1. Don't ever lie to us; we always find out.

2. If you're in a bad mood, we're going to assume it's our fault. So, tell us what's bothering you.

3. Quit complaining about your boss. Find another job.

4. Sunday is usually the only day we can relax. Be flexible about the all-day sports rule.

5. Buy yourself some decent clothes.

6. Pay attention. We like to give clues. "Susie and Bob tried a great new resteraunt" means "Why don't you ever take us anywhere nice?"

7. Yes, it's true. Sometimes we like to call up and talk about nothing. Get used to it.

8. We are self-conscious by nature; we can't help it.

9. The kissing must never stop.

10. If you ask us what's wrong and we say nothing, as us again. And this time, look sincere.

11. When we say something, it's necessary for you to respond. At the very minimum, nod your head.

12. Real men run dishwashers and dust funiture.

13. If you only knew how much a tender word, a thoughtful act, or an unexpected gift means to us, you would do it, and your life would improve expotentially.

14. When no one's home, stand in front of the mirror and practice this until you can say it in public: "I was wrong."

15. After you've mastered that, work on "I'm sorry."

"Rules Guys Wish Girls Played By"

by Cheryl Lavin

printed in the Chicago Tribune, April 23, 200

1. If you ask a question you don't really want an answer to, expect an answer you didn't want to hear.

2. Sometimes, we're not thinking about you. Live with it.

3. Don't ask us what we're thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss topics such as navel lint, the shotgun formation, and monster trucks.

4. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine. Really.

5. Crying is blackmail.

6. Ask for what you want. Let's be clear on this one: Subtle hints don't work. Strong hints don't work. Really obvious hints don't work. Just say it!

7. No, we don't know what day it is. We never will. Mark anniversaries on a calendar you know we check.

8. We're not mind readers and we never will be. Our lack of mind-reading ability is not proof of how little we care about you.

9. Yes and no are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.

10. Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That's what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.

11. It's neither in your best interest nor ours to take any quiz together.

12. Anything we said six months ago is inadmissible in an argument. All comments become null and void after seven days.

13. If something we said can be interpreted two ways, and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one.

14. You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done, not both.

15. Whenever possible, please say whatever you have to say during commercials.

16. Our relationship is never going to be like it was the first two months we were going out.

17. If we ask what's wrong and you say "nothing," we will act like nothing's wrong. We know you're lying, but it's just not worth the hassle.

i don't want to be a princess anymore ... sniff sniff

I admit it. I'm a closet romantic cracking the door open to see if it's safe to come out. I'm not convinced yet. But movies like Roman Holiday don't help much.

I remember it was about three years ago that I saw Roman Holiday for the first time. It was just before Dolly and I would take our own "Roman Holiday."

There we sat ... two young woman with the worst reputations of extreme independence ever known to Pensacola Christian College. Guys knew that the only chance of making our acquaintance was if they had very good credentials and references. And only then were they allowed to be friends ... never more. We had a certain distrust for their gender, having been witnesses of too many examples of stupidity and blatant disregard for decency. She and I were self-sufficient, content in our little worlds in which there was no room for men (except, of course, our jolly art comrads).

Rarely would you see us stand by and wait for a guy to open a door for us ... as if we had the time! No date for the next cultural event ? ... who cared! Our girlfriends were good enough for us.

"No, that's okay. I don't need help carrying my bookbag, canvas, art box, and portfolio. I'm certainly capable of managing on my own."

We didn't hate men ... we just had very little patience for them.

So, there we sat, she and I, the spokeswomen for "anything he can do, I can do better," ... wide-eyed ... leaning forward ... lips quivering ... then *gasp*

"She didn't come back!" we sobbed.

Here, both of us had fallen in love with Gregory Peck and with the story of a princess who would leave it all behind for a man she'd only known for twenty-four hours. But when the press conference ended, and the princess, Audrey Hepburn, left the room ... there he stood ... waiting ... knowing that she would come back out just to see him. He waited ... then he turned and walked slowly away, but still with a slight smile, as if knowing ... she'll be out soon. But she didn't ... she didn't come ...

"I don't want to be a princess anymore ... whaaaa!" we wailed.

That's not the way it was supposed to end. Wasn't she supposed to forsake her duties to her country, leaving behind her parents, the king and queen, disregarding the good faith of her people, and run into the arms of this rugged, poor newspaper reporter ... all for the sake of LOVE?!! Well, of course she made the right decision. But Dolly and I realized that we never want to be in the place where we would have make such a choice ... which meant giving up our hopes of one day being restored to our true positions as royal highnesses in some obscure European nation.

ha ha. Now there's a glimpse of us that VERY FEW ever got to see. Christine Hnat ... a romantic? Please. You're joking, right?

I wonder how it all happened that I decided to let people think that I was beyond the need for love. When did I begin convincing others that i believed that logic was enough to sustain a healthy lifestyle, ignoring the need for vulnerability? But a life of logic is a very lonely one, indeed.

My attitude towards men still needs adjustment. I struggle with allowing men to open doors for me. A part of me still thinks that it's silly ... I can open it myself ... it would be just as easy for me to open it. But my inner romanitc screams for me to step aside, enjoy this expression of chivalry, let men be MEN.

This concepts shakes me to the core.

Let men be men. It's an interesting idea for an experiment. Oh, not on the men ... but for myself. Can I do it? And can I allow myself to be a woman who embraces her romantic, vulnerable side? Why do I fear this? Why does it shake me so?

the courtship of logic and vulnerability

I'm SUCH an idiot! Why do I let myself do this? Why do I persist in maintaining this facade?! Ugh! I'm such a freak! What will it take?!

You know what friends are for? ... pointing out that you're a MORON! (in the kindest way possible ... "um, by the way, did you know that you ...") oh, it's nothing that you don't already know yourself. It's just comforting that someone else knows. You know it sort of solidifies the fact ... just in case you were wondering!

It's going to take an entire revamping of my logic and an embracing of my vulnerability.

Oh God! Help Me! I am undone. Here I stand shaking before you, finally able to admit ... I cannot do it.

the bursting of my bubble

It's a habit I've had since college. I would wander around campus gazing intently at the pages of my book depending on my peripheral vision to not walk into a palm tree. You can blame my love of books on my father who once told me, "If you'll read, I'll buy the books." You can believe that I took advantage of such a promise.

"But isn't that rather unsociable to walk around with your nose in a book?" you ask.

Absolutely. But here's why I started doing it ...

1. It appeared a waste of time to just walk when I could both read AND walk at the same time.

and

2. I was shy about looking people in the eye.

You can blame that one on northern Germany. When walking down the street, it's just not done to look someone in the eye. It makes people wonder why your looking at them. And heaven forbid you should smile! Why, the other person might think that you were laughing at them. This is the culture I was coming from ... which fit nicely with my already shy demeanor.

But I fear I've nurtured this habit for too long.

Today I was walking from the cafeteria to the Founders Cafe with my nose in an exciting new book (The Oxford Book of Story Poems)! Class must have just gotten out because there were a lot of people on their way to lunch. Then all of a sudden, someone touched me.

Remember the woman in the crowd that touched the hem of Jesus' garment? Remember how Jesus reacted? I whipped around to see who had touched me.

What's the big deal?! Ha! This reflex also hails from my college days. Remember that certain Christian college in Pensacola, Florida, that I mentioned earlier? Well, all the stories you've heard are true ... and worse. One of the rules I discovered by breaking was that it is not permitted for male and female students to touch each other ... even indirect contact is punishable by demerits. Four years of this rigid lifestyle takes it's toll on an individual, and it has left me paranoid when I am touched, especially in a crowd.

Anyway ... I was whipping around, wasn't I ...

"Hey, Chrisssstiiiiiiinnnnnnnnne ...."

Everything had gone into slow motion. Bruce's voice became deep and slow as I first felt something behind my legs. The world around me began to rotate till I could only see the ceiling in front of me as my body became lodged in the janitor's trash can that had just been rolled out of the bathroom behind me when I turned to see Bruce. So there I was ... lunchtime rush-hour in the hallway with my legs sticking up out of the garbage.

Well, not really. But it could have happened! It almost did. Just ask Bruce and J. Ro. How cool would it have been if it actually had! Oh man! What a good laugh that would have been! Ha ha! But that's me ... I'm always on the look for a good laugh ... especially if it makes a good story.

sensory override that makes you go limp

I remember when I first experienced it. It was at the World's Fair in 2000 in Hannover, Germany (my home). Whoa! The memory just sends shivers down my spine ...

It had been a long day for Jeanna (the youth intern at Faith Baptist in Kaiserslautern) and I supervising a handful of the American teenagers who had come up from southern Germany to our fair town of nearby Celle. They were there to help us conduct a week long Bible Club for the British military children. I had heard stories of the wonders to be experienced at World Fairs of years gone by. But so far I had been thoroughly unimpressed and disappointed. That's Hungary's pavilion?! It looks like a giant wooden bowl! Why is there nothing but rocks in Ireland's pavilion? What is this line for again?

Finally when we had seen all that a human individual could possibly stand in one day, we made the mistake of sitting down. Exhaustion that I had suppressed for hours overtook my being. Meeting up with the rest of our group in fifteen minutes to leave the park was very low on my priority list ... I was preparing myself to inform them that I know the way home. I'll just take a train. I need to just lay here for an hour or two.

"Turn around," said Jeanna.

"Huh? Why?"

"Just do it!"

Doubtful, I turned my back to her.

Then the sensations began. After it was all over, I felt like I had no skeletal system anymore, nor did I care. The world was at peace and all was good. I was a new person.

Her secret remains with me, but occasionally I'll share the skill passed onto me to some weary, worn, frustrated soul. There's very little that a session of digging my "spiderfingers" into one's back can't heal. Okay, maybe not heal. But you'll definitely forget about everything else in the world. Who cares about the rising price of gas?!