Lunar Lunacy

The sight of the moon never ceases to induce romantic inclinations in my mind and heart. Walking outside after work every night, I am greeted by the ever-changing stages of the moon, and I find myself constantly in awe at its power to direct my thoughts to sharing that particular view with one that I love. I find I have a hard time putting the sensation into words. It's like I step into view of the moon, and all of a sudden, anything is possible. Time is meaningless. Stress disappears. And in that moment, I am filled with a feeling that is half longing for something I have never had and half hope for something that I know will someday find me.

I realize it's a little cliche. After all, bad movies are filled with bad moon moments. Case in point- the ridiculous Dear John conversation of "the moon is never bigger than your thumb." Cheeseball to the max. However, I appreciate the sentiment of sharedness that comes with looking up at the nighttime orb and feeling something a little bigger than yourself. Feeling a part of something spiritual and otherworldly. Knowing that wherever they are, someone is seeing the same moon I am and sharing in the magic. It feels like a secret pleasure, meant just for me and whoever is open enough to appreciate the sight.

Every night the moon is slightly different, a shade larger or smaller than the night before. And yet, it brings with it a sense of homecoming, of feeling perfectly connected to ... something ... someone. Some nights, the luna halo gives me chills. Other nights, the moon is just a tiny sliver against the black abyss. And yet each night, it feels like it's all mine. I know someday I'll be able to share my moon with somebody. And we can sit out on the back porch, wine in hand, conversation soft and meaningful, watching it rise to light the night sky (because by that time, I'll no longer be working these ridiculous hours). And I'll know what moment each of my moon encounters was pointing towards. Until then, I drive home, eyes on the road but mind on the sky, enjoying the beauty of my own secret light. I can't help but wonder if the moon room of my childhood has me more inclined toward lunar romanticisms than the average person, but analyzing it makes some of the mysticism disappear. So I'll sleep tonight dreaming of the moon and all the romance (in the Chestertonian sense of the word) that it holds.

I'm blind, I'm deaf, I wanna be playing, NOT reffing!!!

Today was the second week in a row that I had to ref a football game, and I have decided that it is possibly my least favorite thing in the world. I constantly feel overwhelmed and under attack, and I don't have enough attention cells in my brain to focus on everything I need to focus on. And when I see something that I potentially want to call as a penalty, my brain goes through this sequence..."well, I think I saw it, but it really wasn't that big of a deal and they are going to ask me which player it was on and I don't remember if it was the guy with the black shorts or the muscle shirt and if I choose the wrong one, they are going to object, and look it didn't have an effect on the play anyway." So then I talk myself out of calling anything. But I have to remind myself that it isn't like soccer where the ref can just indicate "play on" due to advantage. There are definitive penalties that need to be assessed whether they had an impact or not. I finally figured this out at the end of the game and ended up calling a stupid too-many-men-on-the-field penalty even though the girl wasn't anywhere near being involved in the play, she just hadn't quite reached the sideline. But, I just need to call things I see and put the responsibility on the team not to break the rules rather than on me to draw a gray line on what constitutes a false start.

And, I'm going to do my best to start paying more attention to downs, girl plays, which first down marker they started the drive behind, etc. I'm going to be a good ref. Or at least, not a bad one.

My kingdom for a dreamless sleep

Last night I dreamt that I was stranded on an island because a demon sea spirit had inhabited Paul Walker's body to attack anybody that tried to leave. So while I was stuck on the island, I played with a red-headed baby and tried to convince Nina Dobrev that I couldn't marry her. What!?!??