Iconic as a Fifties Diner

I have never before found such an accurate picture of the way I perceive present-day America until tonight. The scene: I was on my way home listening to Jet's Cold Hard Bitch, driving behind a white 80's Cadillac, its license plate with symbolic hands proudly clasped praying, "God Bless America."

Flowers

I won't post any pictures tonight. I've pictures I took yesterday while Grandpa and I planted twelve new rose bushes next to the drive-way, but I'll post them later. I still have dirt under my fingernails from digging. It somehow makes me feel accomplished. Though I probably should have cleaned them before shaking hands at church this morning. Have I ever mentioned how much I dislike shaking hands? It makes me feel like a man. In contrast hugs, I feel, can not be given enough. There have been very few instances in my life where I didn't appreciate a given hug.

Tonight I was reading a Christian mother's blog that a friend had linked to. Typically I really don't like those things due to the poor writing style and general tackiness, but against my better judgement I began to read what she had written. And then I started crying. Not really because of any of her words or pictures, I guess I just didn't realize how much I want children. Not now, just... someday.

During that time of me being a complete sap, I was talking to the Lord. He was saying that just as we want the people we love to be happy, even if it means spending time with other people and not just us, He feels the same way. So (even though I sometimes think I want to and that it would make things easier) I don't need to move to a monastery and be solitary or vow celibacy. He likes when we hang out with the human beings we love.