wooden shoes and windmills

You're a Cappuccino!


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Ok, sorry for all these quick, little "check this out" posts but, truly, these little distractions are much more exciting then my life of late.

Plus, it's always nice to be told you're delicious and a treat for all.

I got this gem from Aaron.

Enjoy!

this and tell me what you think of Google someday taking over the world. I'm being hyperbolic, of course - or am I?

seriously. I've never known So. Cal. to have it. Usually it's pretty even keeled here - downright predictable. On any given day, any time of year, sun can typically be forcasted. But today, in the span of about four hours, the weather has changed from bright and sunny and dry, to dark and brooding and pouring rain, and back to the former again. curious.

If you're bored like me - heck, even if you're not - check out this bit of genius, nicked from Joy's site. Guaranteed for at least five minutes of a good time.

The job hunt marches on. Come next week I may be working part-time at my church. I'm still fairly undecided about that particular decision. I'm actually trying to avoid heading back to Starbucks for fear of getting stuck in the world of retail coffee sales.

Meanwhile, I'm singin' in the choir. My father (the choir director) coerced me into singing in the Easter musical the choir is preparing so, tonight, I sat through two hours of a church choir practice. It brought back odd, humerous memories of other times I've sung with this choir. Many of the ladies in the soprano section have been sitting there for years. This evening I sat next to a particularly plucky "lifer" who shook her head madly anytime one of her section sang a wrong note or rhythm. Oddly, when we broke into sections and she was tasked with plunking out the soprano line on the piano she plowed through the music with little regard to any rhythm at all.

"She's just playing notes right now," another cheerful soprano explained to me when, I suppose, she saw the confused (read: "lost") expression on my face.

It's not so bad, though. I'm excited to be singing in a group again and the musical seems like it'll be nice. Plus, the people in the choir really are lovely.

Sitting outside Starbucks in Huntington Beach this evening, with the coming-of-night air pushing away the heat of the day, I was annoyed with my community - my country. I can't really recall another homecoming (to Southern California) where I felt so very opposed to this place. And I've had my share of homecomings. I can't quite pin-point the annoyance and the elusivity of the feeling only adds to my frustration.

Sure, I've longed for other places before. The green trees and mountains of British Columbia - my university home - or of Seattle - my first home - and I have a special sort of love affair - very unlike the way I love California. Ask me almost any time of the year and I'd say, resolutely, that the Pacific North West is, without contest, God's country! Still, I don't usually feel strong urges to flee from the flat, crowded beach communities that make up my southern home.

The only other time in my life I can remember fiercely disliking this place was when I was relocated here, from Seattle, as a 15-year-old. But that was a unique, strange, immature season in my life when any place other then Washington State - all that I had ever known - felt foreign to me. Back then it took a long time for California to grow on me, but, gradually I accepted it as my home. Still, it has never really been the place I feel I belong.

Right now I miss Europe. I miss the small church village called Zeelst near my town in the Netherlands. I miss the tall, thick forests of Belgium and flat, green, Dutch farmland dotted by the occasional windmill. Surprisingly, similarities abound between my Dutch home and my American home, except that in the US I'm no longer a foriegner. I'm common. I miss the house in Veldhoven where - to all of our Dutch neighbors - we were the mysterious and crazy Americans at the end of the street. They would walk past during evening strolls and stare openly into our windows for some glimpse inside our private world. Needless to say, I'm having a hard time adjusting to "home" this time.

This evening, sitting outside Starbucks, only the deep pinks, oranges, purples and blues of the sun setting over the Pacific Ocean remind me that, despite the manufactured landscape, this, too, is God's country. I just need to find contentment within it.

As the heading of this post would suggest I am, in fact, home again. This time it's for good - or as "for good" as anything in a single twenty-something's life can be. I've said "goodbye" to Europe (for the time being), and "hello" once again to good ole' Southern California. I'm not terribly happy about the change, but not really all that upset about it either. Profound, eh? I'm tired, and not sure how to feel, and my head is in many places - could be because I've only been on the ground now for about five hours and am still on Dutch time. It could also be that I've left Europe about six months sooner than planned.....

I did, however, spend six days travelling to Brugges and Parijs to console my disjointed spirit - to reconnect with my displaced self. It didn't happen. I'm still as disjointed and displaced (or maybe I'm misplaced...) as ever, but I have some awesome pictures and more than a few stories of adventure to bear witness to my journey.

'Spose now I should change the name of this little spot since I am no longer surrounded by windmills - a big disappointment - or wooden shoes (though I did come home with a couple pair).

Also, should start looking for a "real" job. Hm... how does one DO that?!