I’m 27.

Thank you, God. Prayer greases wheels…

• Today’s my mom’s birthday. Happy Birthday mom! I hope you read this blog every once and while… because I tried calling you and you were out getting milk.
• On the elevator up to our apartment yesterday, I realised I have a thing for churches whose names involve water somehow. I used to attend Living Water, then I attended The Bridge (is dead, long live The Bridge!), and now Laura and I are tenatively attending Freshwater in Mississauga. It’s a small church, quite similar in character to The Bridge, and from what I’ve heard thus far, the preaching has been absolutely spot on.
• That sort of brings to mind how blessed I’ve been with the sort of preaching I’ve been priviledged to hear over the last few years.
  • At Living Water, Pastor Vogel has the sort of passion for preaching you don’t get to hear much anymore, and a soft spot for alliterative bullet points (who doesn’t!). His sermons always provoked me to thought; sometimes I would fill entire sheets with observations about what I’d heard. I still have quite a few of those sheets at home, I think.
  • At The Bridge, Robb Powell, who also married me and Laura, had a sort of calm rationality about his preaching. He’d throw out so much stuff in one sermon that I’d almost get brain overload. I’d have to chew on it for hours later.
  • I haven’t heard much of Joel Main at Freshwater yet, but from what I have heard he has a remarkable capability for historical analysis and context, and a passion to bring Jesus to life (yes, I know the Holy Ghost already did that) and make him seem real in all his Godhead and humanity.
• This morning I poured hot water all over my hand. The throbbing has subsided, thankfully. I topped that off with spilling my tea all over the floor at work about two hours later. Frankly, I feel like an idiot. Or, like Chandler, I’m a dropper. It’s true.
• I’m currently gathering information about tasers. If you have a link or something, please do post it in the comments! I’ll be ever so grateful.

So, I’m married. I just thought the entire world should be aware of that, as my blog screams into the abyss that is the internet at large, a place where all small voices are lost to but an attentive few.

They’re both doing okay. The child’s name is Brianna. I am an uncle.

But I’m not going to tell you what it is, because I’m like that.

Gilmour Girls is starting to grate on me a little bit here. I’m sick of the way they treat marriage, and the pleasant banter is starting to run thin. But on the whole it’s still a good show, and I only have two more seasons to go to catch up with the current storyline. So by the time that happens, I will officially be sick of the show.

CSI Miami was pretty boring this week. Sometimes I don’t know why I watch these shows, and then there’s a great episode. Please let that be next week. I tell you, this is why I don’t watch much television: they just can’t keep the quality writing up.

Have you seen any good movies lately? I have been so far from the theatre that my cultural garbage experience is starting to sadly lack. I should stock up on junk food, drink thirty cups of coffee, and go watch a good flick that will mindlessly bounce off the inside of my eyes. Oh, that’s right. That’s why I haven’t watched any movies lately. BECAUSE THERE AREN’T ANY TO WATCH! Goodness, I can’t wait for Oscar season to come, for some reason. They tend to produce a movie around that time, at least one movie that’s slightly tolerable and doesn’t involve humans performing unpleasant acts with animals. Disturbing.

We ate deer at work today. Bambi on the barbi. Oh, the irony.