attempts at reading

I dislike Mondays.
I told my friend Matt today that if if Mondays didn't exist, Tuesdays ran away, Wednesdays took a long vacation, and Thursdays disappeared, school wouldn't suck quite as bad...and I believe that today.
In complete honesty, I do not like reading for this history class. Right now, I'm taking a five minute break from reading chapters in the Koran, which (1) screams 'Jesus is not happy with you right now!' and (2) isn't all that interesting or easy to follow, especially when there are 100+ verses in one chapter (thank you to the psalmists for only having one chapter be that long).
This semester, I've read a lot in my history classes that compromises my faith. It's not making me do some 'second guess' of who Jesus is or what's truth and what's not truth, but it does make me appreciate the simple faith and trust in a Savior who is bigger than me.

When my teacher asks "Do you really know if Jesus existed?", it makes me a tad angry. He goes on the basis that no one, other than the historian Josephus, wrote about Jesus, and Josephus didn't describe him as the Messiah that Christians believe. The Romans had no record of him, and he never wrote anything down, and only one of the gospel writers was actually there.
At this point, I'm not happy.
My friend Jesse called him down on the last note: Matthew and John were both disciples, Mark witnessed much of what happened in the early days and had a first hand account of parts of the gospel from Peter, and Luke was a doctor at the time that witnessed parts of Jesus's ministry.

Here were my thoughts:
Josephus was a Jew. The Jews rejected Jesus as Messiah. Of course he's not going to be mentioned as the messiah.
The Romans weren't originally fond of Jesus...and they had Him put to death. Why write out a large record of someone you didn't want around.
If you use the logic of 'He didnt write anything down, so he must not exist,' then you have to use it with other historical figures. Notably, Socrates. He didn't write anything down either, but no one seems to question his existence. But, if my teacher can question the existence of my Savior on the basis of Jesus not writing anything down, then I can question the existence of a philosopher.

Anyways...just had to rant on that a little bit.
On a brighter note, Saturday is one day closer. If you live in waycross, ga, you know that it's SWAMPFEST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
and Saturday is the Swingin' Medallions!!!!!!! I LOVE the Medallions. My daddy swears it's because my Aunt Vikki and Uncle Wayne had a hand in raising me...they always listened to the oldies, and their daughter (who is 15 years and a day older than me, probably not very happy that I gave away her age, and she's always been one of my very, very favorite people on the planet) went to her share of Medallions concerts when she was in high school...told me I needed to go, I went...and now it's an obsession...that my dad chooses to explain as 'Oh, she was raised by the Brigman's. I'm hoping Mysti will come with me, either this weekend or in June...but considering she's having a baby in August, I'm thinking that the likelihood is higher for Saturday.

my favorite frustrated rant that I've ever written.

*wrote this a while back, for my myspace blog. enjoy*


A Frustrated Rant

It feels like it's time for a girl to rant about something. Yes, estrogen may be flowing, but honestly, it's one of the few times that women are really okay with sharing everything that they are feeling towards the world.

Guys, please, we know you mean well…but just stop saying you're looking for a nice girl, especially when it's obvious that you're going after the first blond size 0 who flaunts what's under the skirt. Honestly, she's probably been with so many people (a few of your friends no doubt), that if you do get to see what's 'under the skirt,' (God forbid you actually do want to see it) you'll catch something embarrassing. Here's a thought: Look around you. See that geeky looking girl sitting down the row from you, or at the desk next to you? Yeah, she has a great sense of humor, loves to have fun, likes 'man movies' (especially the ones were stuff blows up), would never dream of cheating on any guy that she had the blessed, much prayed for chance to have a relationship with, and guess what else? She's been trying to stop staring at you for the longest time. She's wondering about what it must have been like for the last girlfriend to cheat on such a wonderful guy who has a wonderful smile, great sense of humor, and a wonderful personality. Sure, she may not look like 'your type,' or act like 'your type,' but get this: Girls aren't perfect, just perfect for the guy that God intended for them to have. So guys, let's stop pretending that there's some magical place that the perfect girls exist. If you think you found it, chances are it's between Barbie's Malibu house and Dream house: The smiles are fake and there's a whole lot of plastic, and let a few problems come in the way, (like clashing with a problem, which for Barbie would be the creative crowd under 10), everything starts to look a little rough. The painted teeth will fade, the smile will become slightly creepy, and the hair will look like something out of "Bride of Frankenstein". It's probably across the street from "My Little Pony" world too, but after everything fades and gets creepy, the whole thing is going to feel a lot like those times from college your parents warn you about. Point being: GIVE THE GIRL A CHANCE, DANG YOU! She's been waiting so long just for someone to tell her that they love her, waiting for someone to love her regardless of her dysfunctions, someone who WILL listen to how rotten the day was, and be WONDERFUL enough to bring the ice cream when you come over, just because you know that coming over will get her smiling again, and the ice cream will score you some serious brownie points. We're waiting on you to just come to your senses...realize that yes, there are a lot of fish in the sea, but why go for that poop-eating carp when a beautiful angelfish is shining up the fins, just hoping that you'd notice? Okay, maybe putting on the sparkly eye shadow and the cutest outfit that she's ever bought, but you catch the drift.

Girls, until our angelfish boys come to there senses, there's only a few things we can do. I say we pray that they come to them fast, then revert back to the pews after church, talking about our struggles, and passing out the chocolate (after all, we are women, and chocolate, for some reason, normally makes us feel a tad bit better). Until then, we hope, pray, wait, pray, and hope.Guys, we'd just be happy with a little less waiting.