Booking it from Atlanta we arrived in Savannah last night. It’s only a 3 hour drive but it felt like forever. Maybe because we could feel the humidity creep up on us. Our air conditioner had to keep being turned up the closer we got. By the time we were 20 miles out there was a fog on all the windows. Stepping out of the car my glasses fogged up and so did the lens on my camera. It was muggy and HOT. Wow. We were really sweating by the time we got to our hotel room. It was after 10 p.m. and it was still 85 degrees with at least 75% humidity. Insane.

But I am so excited to be in Savannah. I have wanted to be visit forever! I don’t know why. I’m sure I’ve seen too many movies, read too many stories or entertained too many romantic notions about the South, but nevertheless I’m fulfilling a long-time desire.

We started the day taking in an overview of the city on the Old Town Trolley Tour. It offers on and off service at over 14 locations in Savannah. It’s a great way to get the layout of the city and figure out what you want to see.

Our day itinerary included: lunch at Mrs. Wilkes Boarding house, tours of the Telfair’s Owen’s Thomas and Davenport House.

If you’re ever in Savannah you must go to Mrs. Wilkes Boarding house. It is a treat! Served family style you eat with perfect strangers and quickly become friends. The table is set and full of food when you sit down. We were given: fried chicken, beef stew, ribs, collard greens, mashed potatoes, gravy, rice, sweet potatoes, macaroni salad, cabbage, black-eyed peas, corn muffins, biscuits, stuffing, creamed corn, and more I can’t even remember. It was all delicious. We were all so full and happy when we left. It’s a good thing we planned on walking a lot.

Our next stop were the house tours. We started with Telfair’s Owens-Thomas house, designed by English architect William Jay in 1819. He is a man after my own heart and designed this English Regency house on balance and symmetry. Every door, window, column and staircase has its mirror, even if it has to be a false front. The house itself is beautiful and beautifully restored.

The Davenport House (1820), which someone today described as a common man’s house. It is the project that sparked a historic preservation movement in Savannah in the 1950s. I didn’t particularly care for how the Davenport House was restored. It felt cheap, gaudy and awfully decorated. Now, I’m not a restoration expert, but I have toured a lot of restored homes. (I’m not a doctor but I play one on tv). And Debbie kind of is - she headed up the design team that restored the Queen Mary. So she knows her stuff. To us, it didn’t feel authentic or typical of its period. The colors were too bright. The wallpaper was loudly patterned and distracting. The doors were poorly stained and designs on the floor. There were three or four people on our tour who kept asking the docent if she was sure the wallpaper, flooring and colors were accurate. So it wasn’t just us.

On a sidenote I’m amazed at how much of the South has been destroyed, not in the civil war, but in the states own lack of interest in preserving its past. This was definitely the case with Atlanta and also seen here in Savannah. “Why are we doing to ourselves what we hated Sherman for doing.” (Margret Mitchell).

We had dinner at a local favorite, Blowin’ Smoke BBQ. Just outside the historic district, down by Forsyth Park. Debbie and I both had pulled pork. It had been slow-smoked for 24 hours and it showed, deliciously moist and juicy. It was nice to be out of the touristy area for a bit. There was live jazz, water spritzers on the patio and a fun bean-bag toss while you wait for your table. The restaurant also has a done of microbrews to try, which we did not. Still a fun place to visit.

My favorite part of the day, even though it was 92 with 89% humidity, was just walking around the city squares with the amazing architecture, beautiful live oak trees with spanish moss (that is neither spanish or moss and is full of bugs), and soaking up the peaceful, laid back atmosphere of the city.

So great to be here.

It’s been four months since my last trip out of Canton. Only this time I’m not in California. I’m in Georgia. Atlanta to be specific.

I was excited for the break. I was excited to see Debbie, who flew out from CA to hang with me. I was excited to see a new place. But I didn’t realize how happy I would be to return to an actual city - with freeways, lots of tall buildings, traffic, smog, lots of cars, history, culture and many non-chain restaurants.

Aaahh a real city.

I had some time to kill this afternoon so I drove around and soaked it all in. It is gloriously lovely. I did a little drive-by siteseeing and saw Centennial Olympic Park, Underground Atlanta, art deco architecture of the government building, CNN building, Buckhead and several historic districts.

Tonight we had dinner at Pitty Pat’s Porch. It boasts as “the place” for downhome southern food. So we checked it out. It was good. I had the fried chicken and Debbie had the pork tenderloin (dressed up with raisins and pureed sweet potatoes). A little pricey for what it is, a kitchily decorated southern plantation, ala Disney. Very touristy. Nothing fancy. Average price is $22/entree.

The best part was driving around the city at dusk. Armed with a GPS we did another drive-by of the downtown and even ventured over to find Ebenezer Baptist Church. It was a little scary for two white girls after dark, but still worth it. We want to make it back during the day to check out the historic preservation center.

Six more days of city goodness.

I was sorting through email today and realized there were three or four emails I never returned, from almost a month ago. These were emails from dear friends. People I love. People I want in my life. I feel awful. Then I remember there are also several unreturned phone calls and people I’ve been meaning to email or call. I suck at being a friend right now.

So, I would like to issue a blanket apology to my peeps, you know who you are.

I realize that since I moved I have not been as communicative as I would like. I’m horrible at returning emails and am lax on making calls. I feel in some ways that since I’ve come here I’ve been in the fetal position spiritually, emotionally and occassionally physically. This move has been the hardest things I’ve done in a while.

But more than the move I don’t really have the words to express what has been going on with me. Have you ever noticed that when a house is being built there is a phase after the frame goes up that it looks like all work stops? It seems like there is no activity and the house is abandoned. But really, that is when vital steps to the interworking of the house is being accomplished. They are doing the plumbing, electricity, insulation, and wiring. That’s where I’m living right now.

In some ways there is a lot going on. Right now, I’m afraid to share it. I’m afraid to put it out there. I’m keeping it close to the vest as I process, digest and assimilate. There is also a lot up in the air. I don’t know where things will settle. It’s hard to answer questions when I have no idea what’s going to happen.

In other ways, there is nothing going on and I have nothing to say. I don’t have anything new to share and that gets frustrating. Everything and nothing is changing all at once. It’s odd.

So I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I give you permission to ask questions when you want to. Don’t give up on me. I think about you all the time. I miss you horribly. I wish we could go get dinner, hang out at the beach, or get some gelato. Everytime I get your email, see your name in my phone as I scroll past it, or look at in your photo I thank God for you and that you are in my life. Know you are loved. Know you are appreciated. Know you are important to me. I promise to do better.

I’ve been in love with him, well his writing for almost three years. Yet, all I knew was his URL - www.waiterrant.net.

I found him in Jan of 2006 and one night I was sick and had just broken up with my boyfriend. He distracted me all night long. I wrote him of my devotion and even got a response. He’s that good.

I’ve been glued to his blog ever since. Yet I feared I would never know who he really was. But, he just published a new book, based on his award-winning writing and his identity is finally revealed. He is Steve Dublanica. The New York Post even showed his photo, and he is oh so my type.

Now how can I convince him to come to Cleveland to do a book signing?

Steve, there are serious fans in Ohio, you have to come.

Last night for lack of something to do in rainy NE Ohio we decided to go to the movies. My mom, aunt and cousin Sierra went to see Mamma Mia. Ben and I went see The Dark Knight.

I didn’t know much about the story other than it was Heath Ledger’s last movie and his portrayal of the Joker is considered Oscar-worthy by some.

I hadn’t really planned on seeing this film. I am not a comic book fan. I don’t generally like superhero movies or tv shows. I haven’t seen any of the previous movies but after this one I plan on renting Batman Begins.

This movie is amazing. It transcends comic books to become a viable story of its own. It is big budget. It has big thrills. It has a great story. This is a more than an action film it is a psychological thriller from beginning to end. I was on the edge of my seat and jumped on two or three occassions. I think this movie is so appropriate for our world today.

Batman finds himself face to face with a killer he can’t predict and one that doesn’t fit the usual pattern. The joker has no morality and no conscience. He delights in the kill alone and creating chaos. He forces Batman to confront his own dark side and purpose. Is he a hero or just a vigil ante?So good.

So many great actors in this movie - Morgan Freeman, Christian Bale, Aaron Eckhart, Gary Oldman and Maggie Gyllenhaal. I like Aaron Eckhart stole the show. His portrayal of Harvey Dent is powerful and captivating.

This movie is worth seeing on the big screen.

Another lesson I’ve learned about kids is that while somedays are hard and you wish you could disown them, other days are full of joy and fun. It’s always a mixed bag.

Nothing is ever all good or all bad, it’s a balance of both.

We’ve had much better days the past week or so. My aunt and two of her kids came to visit from Indiana and we toured the fine cites of the local community. Good times.

Onward and upward for another week.

Ok, I’ve realized that the biggest downside to parenting is the monotony. Your life is pretty much the same week in and week out - down to the arguments. I could script out the daily battles I have with my nephews - the first is over what kind of cereal to eat, the second is who will go first in the shower, then who is touching who in the car and another favorite is who controls the tv. Everyday. It’s the same. There isn’t a day that goes by that they don’t fight about these things - and more.

Today we entered a new level of arguing, fighting, irritation, fear and ridiculousness.

On the way home from swim class they were fighting over who was touching who and I had enough. I declared a “no talking” zone. So they decided to make noise with everything else in the car - door locks, window buttons and kicking the back of the chair. No amount of talking, reasoning or yelling would get them to settle down or more importantly SHUT UP.

Well in Jordy’s attempt to make noise with the door handle he actually opened the door. That’s right, going down the freeway at 65 mph Jordy opened the car door. I could feel the wind coming into the car.

My heart sank but it didn’t even phase him. He actually thought it was funny. So did his brother. I wanted to pull over the car and beat him senseless. He didn’t get how dangerous this was. I will admit there was severe yelling in the car.

Once we got home, they resumed their usual fight about who was going to shower first - even though I set up a schedule and it is clearly marked on the freakin’ calendar.

Now it’s the lunch battle. Who has more and who can eat the fastest are the flavor of the day. But then they really start to get into it. Someone is again touching someone else and it escalates to Mikey spitting a mouth full of food into Jordy’s hair and Jordy dumping juice all over Mikey.

I don’t even know what to do. They aren’t my kids. They don’t listen to me. So they had to eat in separate areas and then they spent about 40 minutes alone in their rooms. I just needed a break. I needed silence. I needed a valium and a drink.

I think anyone who is under the delusion that they want children should spend two weeks with actual children. It’s the warm fuzzy desire to give love and nurture that next generation that causes rational people to procreate. Because children will suck every last piece of life from your body. They will remove your ability to speak intelligently and you’re reduced to stuttering and general confusion. They will drive you to want to bang your head on the wall repeatedly until you are rendered unconscious.

I love my nephews. I really do. But I liked it better when I was just the fun aunt who swooped in with presents and a good time. I’m tired. I am bone weary tired and I need a break from them. I never thought I would say that, but I do.

Looking for something lighthearted and a way out of the heat we decided to go see Mamma Mia tonight.

The Broadway musical based on Abba songs, finally made it to the big screen with Merle Streep, Christine Baranski, Colin Firth and Pierce Brosnan. I knew I would see the movie as soon as I heard Colin Firth was in it. I can’t stay away from any of his movies.

This is the story of Sophie and her quest to find her father. She steals her mother’s journal from the summer she was conceived and invited three men to her wedding, hoping one will walk her down the aisle as she weds her true love.

Of course complications, surprises and confusion ensue. It is a pure cotton candy for the summer. Mamma Mia was fun and silly. In case you wondered, Pierce Brosnan cannot sing, but who cares. The setting is spectacular with amazing white cliffs and crystal blue waters. My favorite parts were when the town joined in to play the chorus, like in a greek play.

I left singing all the songs. I even downloaded a few of them. This will be a great rental or trip to the dollar theatre.

I take my role as aunt very seriously. I firmly believe that it is my responsibility and duty to make sure they are educated well on all things of life.

So last Friday I decided that since Mikey is 10, it is time for him to see Princess Bride. His father was 10 when it was realized in theatres so it has come full circle.

So we sat down as a family and watched it. He liked it, I think.

His favorite part was, “Hello My Name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die.”

Jordy lasted about five minutes. He wandered off somewhere to do something.

Last week in church we talked about the importance of becoming new wineskins. Then I heard a conference session from Marcos Witt on how to prevent staleness in our lives as we create situations and circumstances (wineskins) to grow and change.

Now I’ve heard the wineskin parable a million times but never really applied it to my life in this way. So, honestly what does that mean? What is a wineskin? I’ve been wine tasting enough to see wine in barrells but never in a skin of anysort. So the idea of not putting new wine in an old wineskin doesn’t really resonate with me.

As I grapple with this I’d i’ve realize that the idea of a wineskin is about constructs, skemas, ideas, traditions, religion, perhaps even a location, church, friends, or other relationship. We get new wine as we begin to change. It is a fresh understanding, healing, wholeness that comes as we grow and learn. This new information doesn’t fit into the existing structures we’ve created in our minds and hearts.

For me living in California was a wineskin. It was familiar, safe, comfortable and to some extent easy. There was a routine and rhythm to my life that was good, it worked. Yet I could float through life a bit. I wasn’t really challenged. I was only pushed when I allowed it. I was well-defined there. I had a job, a role to play, friends, and history.

Now here I have no context for anything, including me. Everything here is so different - how they talk, the foods they eat, even how they drive. Aaahh, so our wineskins are part of our identity, they define our worlds. It’s the structure on which we hang other information.

Yet in our comfort we can become legalistic, ritualistic and too tied to tradition. I had a very well defined way that I lived and related to others. I met everyone with a filter sarcasm and cynicism including God. To stay fresh in our lives we need to let ourselves be stretched, pulled out of our comfort zones to force us to engage in a new way, with a new perspective. Ooh I’d say that is where I am living these days.

To become new wineskins is to stay close to the heart of God, Witt says, because He changes his methods to capture our hearts. While his nature is unchanging Christ shed his divinity to be human so we could be restored (Phil 2). So how he relates to us changes on how he needs to get our attention. Being in a rut and tied to our existing way of doing things will render us ineffective in reaching out to others in service, in being flexible to learn and I would think in applying grace to ourselves and others.

In the end, the freshness of our wineskins is tied to our sense of wonder. Are we able to worship God with wonder and innocence of a child. Are we intrigued by the small things or are we bitter and cynical? I can confess am cynical. I grew stale. I doubted everything and could see the negative in everything. I constantly waited for the other shoe. Some of this was for survival. Some of this is from experience. Some of this is out of fear. I have to learn to trust God enough to let the wonder back into my life. I have to learn how to let go and let things be unplanned and out of my control. That is the biggest fallacy. We are never in control of anything and its our desperate grasp to try and control it that ends up in frustration and resentment because its impossible.

So life is really all about how we deal with change. Do we become stale in our existance, floating through life letting it go by as we stay safe in our same ole, same ole? Or do we let ourselves become agents of change as we become more authentic, transparents and pliable for whatever it is that God wants to do through us.

That is where I am? I still have parts of my heart that need to be broken. I still need to be molded, changed. There are still parts of me that are unconverted. I am saved, which happens in an instant but conversion take a life time. I struggle with unbelief sometimes. There are aspects of becoming Christlike that I rebel against and just don’t like. I was talking with a friend a while back and we were talking about discipleship and how hard it was to let go of some of our “flesh.” Discipleship is painful.

Anyway, I digress. I am just thinking outloud here. I am still struggling with life here. I know for a fact that I needed to move. But I thought that once I did some magical, mystical path would open before and I would suggently realize what I wanted to be when I grew up. Instead I’m in Ohio, still lost, completely outside of my comfort zone and freaked out.

I wonder what’s wrong with me? Why haven’t I found this yellow, brick road? It doesn’t stick with me that all God cares about is the relationship. He just wants me to be close. I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to trust him. I have trouble reckoning in my brain that freaked out and still lost is exactly where he wants me right now. That’s when I lean into him.

This seems to be a lesson I’m not getting because everytime I take a step I wait for the a-ha moment where it all makes sense. Maybe my a-ha moment won’t come for a while or ever. Not sure. But the goal has to be the same - an intimate relationship with God. I don’t do vulnerable very well. I have touble letting people in, even an omniscient, all-powerful God. I guess that’s the wineskin that needs most updating.