(Insert Jeopardy Soundtrack Here)

I am constantly waiting for something. Actually, I am constantly waiting for many things. If I had to compile a list of things I'm waiting for, it would either use a handful of rain forests or use all my available free space in my gmail account. Either way, it's rather boggling to think of everything that is perpetually loading, in transit, being shipped, being confirmed, in process, on the way, cooking, baking, growing, maturing, developing, responding, changing, charging, streaming, downloading, uploading, returning, (basically a lot of verbs), drying, resting, etc.

So, what am I waiting for right now? Sleep to come. I'll figure everything else out later.

The Ties That Bind

Today a friend brought me an iPhone with a story about how a co-worker found it and had given it to him but he couldn't accept it unless he knew he had exhausted all efforts to contact the lost owner. Enter Google, center stage, with a spotlight.

So we plugged it in and sure enough it tried to sync with my mac. While attempting to do so the name of the iPhone appeared in iTunes and iPhoto and we went straight to Google. Well, some dude with the same name who lived in Chicago had a myspace page so we messaged him and two hours later we got a message back. Sure enough, it was the dude. End scene, curtain drops, Google takes a bow and accepts the oscar for best actor, Mac receives the oscar for best supporting actor. Everyone's happy.

What a world we live in. So many stinkin' people (7 billion to be precise) and thanks to Mac, Google, and Myspace we located the owner in about... a minute and a half, give or take.

So what's the take away? I don't know. The rascal in the Care Bear PJ's is in bed already, how should I know what the take away is. All I know is that insomnia is too regularly a part of my life, that I try to pretend doesn't exist, and as a result I'm typing this story at 4 in the morning.

Oh, apparently, from how I titled this post before I started typing it, the take away is that we're all bound together by our technology. We're in love with robots. Maybe it's because they allow a technological narcissism the Greeks could never have imagined when they invented the story of Narcissus and the pool. I feel gross now. I need to go cleanse my soul and turn my eyeballs around from looking inside to looking outside.

Old Acquaintances Renewed

If anyone reads this, get help. No, not for me, silly. For yourself. Really, you read this? You check a blog that only has three entries? Three entries from nearly a year ago? Well, I appreciate your faithfulness anyways.

Back on topic, no, I was not abducted by aliens for the last ten months. Nor was I a part of a secret military program designing super soldier serum (that was a shout out to you P.G.). No. I was simply too overwhelmed with life to even think about updating my immense cyber-following with the roller-coaster rides of school, family, girls, work, ministry, literature, technology, art, music, and all the other adventures I seem to have.

Today I inaugurate a belated New Year's Resolution. I will blog more frequently - and not only when I feel tickled by profound thoughts I can neither fathom or communicate. I will blog. I will not become a blogger because now, with every keystroke, I declare that I AM A BLOGGER.

It says so in the title of the blog site anyways. (www.blogger.com)

So. For my very first non-profound blog topic I give you the least advertised but most significant holiday between July 10 and July 12 of every year - 7/11's Birthday Party on July 11 of every calendar year. 7/11, being the wonderful people they are, don't want a birthday present, in fact, they want to give away party favors! Flowing freely with frothy foamy substance, 7/11 gives away Slurpies like no body's business - no bodies business, except 7/11's that is.

For those of you who just stumbled out of Free-Birthday-Slurpy ignorance, there is a chair in the corner where you can put your head between your knees, breathe deep, close your eyes, and try to forgive yourself for all the birthdays you missed.

Anyways, I'm sure there's a spiritual analogy somewhere in all this that's just squirming in it's Care Bear footy-pajamas trying to get some attention from dad, but this time I'm not going to entertain the lil' rascal. I just want to put this date on your calendar for next year, and the next, and the next.

Happy Slurpday 7/11