Verses for any member with lots of eggshells on their sidewalks:

Verses for any member with lots of eggshells on their sidewalks (Or anyone who knows such members):

Disclaimer: Different Biblical versions used

·        Matthew 6:14-15

¹⁴ Yes, if you forgive others for their sins, your Father in heaven will also forgive you for your sins. ¹⁵ But if you don't forgive others, your Father in heaven will not forgive your sins.

·         Matthew 18:15-17 

A Brother Who Sins Against You

¹⁵ If your brother sins against you, go and show him his fault, just between the two of you. If he listens to you, you have won your brother over. ¹⁶ But if he will not listen, take one or two others along, so that 'every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses. ¹⁷ If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, treat him as you would a pagan or a tax collector.

·         Ephesians 4:26

²⁶ And don’t sin by letting anger control you. Don’t let the sun go down while you are still angry…

·         Romans 5:10
"For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life."

·         Romans 12:20–21

20: Instead, “If your enemies are hungry, feed them. If they are thirsty, give them something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals of shame on their heads.”
21: Don’t let evil conquer you, but conquer evil by doing good.

Memorable quotes from anybody in my life! (Part II)

Part I: http://www.bigyesbomb.com/2009/09/memorable-quotes-from-anybody-in-my.html

26. Your name is already on the board. - Mrs. Samantha Askew (Chapman, KS, December 1994)

27. Ab-so-lute-ly NOT! - Mrs. Sally Schuler, on observing me shaking my can of Wildwood Cola (Chapman, KS, 1992-1993 school year)

28. Christian is pretty generous! - Mrs. Joan Dawson, on my giving extra toys away to classmates in the end-of-year class auction when we cashed in "points" (an imaginary money system earned by good grades on all our assignments) for toys, and I had enough toys for myself (Chapman, KS, May 1995)

29. Christian, I'm teaching! Sit back down! - Mrs. Cindy Erichsen, when I served detention by working in the "detention cubicle" in her classroom. (At my elementary school, students served detention in classrooms different from their own.) (Chapman, KS, 1992-1993 school year)

30. ...And sorry to bother ya! - Unknown Missouri State Trooper, after letting me go with a Warning for failing to stop at a stop sign. (SW Missouri, May 1, 2009)

31. That's illegal, buddy! - Tim McWilliams, after reading over my musings on wanting to get into a lock-box to manipulate my apartment building's thermostat for being set too high. (Tim's workplace and my Facebook status update, October 2009)

32. It's a money pyramid. - Ryan Kahm, after being approached about Quixtar by Jared Hefley. (Marlatt Hall, K-State, Spring 2004)

33. This is NOT a public restaurant! - Sheryl Bonawitz, after observing me eat there several times while not being a Resident. (Kramer Dining Center, K-State, February 2, 2006)

34. I would rip it up and BURN it! - Naomi "Mimi" Shultz, after entertaining her with the idea of gifting her a T-shirt with a particular design that she would hate. (Gathering Room, Shultz Residence, Lindsborg, KS, December 25, 2008)

35. ...You're NOT enrolled! - Callie Fitzgerald Kostelich, an Expository Writing II instructor (Willard Hall, K-State, August 2008)

36. (Shouted out orders read from various cards; one example: NOW, YOU WILL BARK WHEN THE PLAYER ON YOUR RIGHT READS A CARD!) - Lauren Ashley House (neé Johanns), after I gave her the curse-card to yell like a Drill Sergeant while playing "Curses" at Family Home Evening. She gave us the most hilarious impression of a Drill Sergeant I have ever heard, which spurred me into affectionately referring to her as "Our Petite Drill Sergeant" since then. (LDS Institute, Manhattan, KS, August 2009)

37. "We ain't payin' you to sleep!" and some minutes later, "This is not a mo-o-tail!" (motel) - Frank Young, maintenance supervisor (City Hall, Manhattan, KS, July 2009)

38. *abruptly removes Mafioso hat* I'm NOT roleplaying! - Andie Spry, after giving off what seemed to be a Mafiosi's character-act at the Halloween Thriller party (LDS Salina Stake Center, Salina, KS, October 23, 2009)

39. I was very much a Freshman! - Britany Nelson (now Christensen), in a Bible Study with myself, Sisters Pollock and Harrington (LDS Institute, Manhattan, KS, September 2008)

40. Plus the picture clearly shows a severly sagging roof line on what I assume is the garage... - 1getreal, when responding to a thread I made on Craigslist seeking advice on how to sell our old house in Chapman. ( http://sarasota.craigslist.org/forums/?ID=114842582 , January 31, 2009, 06:27:23)

41. I do not consider merely showing up and being a "warm body" as being present and in the moment. - Heather Varnadore, Creative Fiction instructor, email correspondence (K-State, Manhattan or Alma, KS, October 26, 2009, 8:54 PM)

42. Because of your considerate suggestion, mom is taking your name off from all the insurance policies. Have a good day. Naomi Shultz, after reading a suggestion that I probably shouldn't repeat here. (Lindsborg, KS, text message, October 23, 2009)

43. Straight outta Compton, it's a crazy brother named Ice Cube! - Eazy-E, rapper for the NWA (Compton, CA, Summer 1988)

44. Compton and Long Beach togetha, now you know you in trouble... (and the entire song, as a matter of fact.) - Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg, award-winning rappers for Death Row Records (Compton, CA, 1992)

45. CHRIIIIIIIIIIS!!!!!????? - Naomi Shultz, after seeing that I changed her desktop background to an otherwise funny photo that she didn't appreciate. (It was G-rated in case anyone was wondering.) (Mimi's office (yes, she does have HER OWN OFFICE), Shultz Residence, Lindsborg, KS, March 23, 2008, the night before I left for Japan)

46. ...and I couldn't stop laughing!!! - Tyler "C.J." Johnson, after reading about something I posted (Facebook message, presumably somewhere in Kansas, late January 2009)

47. The Lo-ord, told Noah, there's gonna be, a floody-floody... - Cedarmont Kids (Nashville, TN, presumably the late '90s?)

48. That's not my beat! - Chris Speirs, while I tried to play Nuthin' But A G Thang's clean version as our Home-Teaching session's background music. (See Quote #44.) I therefore had to change to this "Study Music" playlist that we enjoyed for the rest of the session. (My apartment, Manhattan, KS, early November 2009)

49. Christian! BED! - Andrew "Flash" Nelson, during the "Leadership Training Camp" week atKansas Bible Camp. (Kansas Bible Camp, NW of Hutchinson, KS, late May 2007, about 10:00 at night)

50. Why aren't cows a good form of money? - Daniel Kuester, ECON lecture (a lecture hall in the K-State Student Union, November 23, 2009, sometime between 10:30 and 11:20.)

(More quotes as I think of them.)

Planned FHE prayer

Foreword: A fellow member just told me that prayers like these are/may be too personal to post on a public venue like these Notes. Does anyone else concur?

Opening Prayer

Dear God,

I pray that through our hour of bonding at FHE, you will help sweep all eggshells off some of our sidewalks and remind us that it is a tendency of a Spirit-Filled heart to forgive others without one single iota of begrudging.

For it is said in Matthew 6:14 through 15: "Yes, if you forgive others for their sins, your Father in heaven will also forgive you for your sins. But if you don't forgive others, your Father in heaven will not forgive your sins."

I also hope that in this FHE, the activities we do together will cause social strains to loosen and for all relationships with one another to be bolstered throughout this time. I pray that through the fun that we'll have, somehow, our hearts will be filled with a little more of the spirit by the time we leave. Thank you so much and in the Lord's mighty name we pray, Amen.

Closing Prayer

Dear God,

I pray that through the past hour of having bonded at FHE, you have helped sweep off all eggshells from some of our sidewalks, and will keep doing so, while reminding us that it is a tendency of a Spirit-Filled heart to forgive others without one single iota of begrudging.

For it is said in Matthew 6:14 through 15: "Yes, if you forgive others for their sins, your Father in heaven will also forgive you for your sins. But if you don't forgive others, your Father in heaven will not forgive your sins."

I also hope that in this FHE, the activities we did together has caused social strains to loosen and for all relationships with one another to have been bolstered throughout this time. i pray that through the fun we had, somehow, our hearts have been filled with a little more of the spirit by now. Thank you so much and in the Lord's mighty name we pray, Amen.

Yesterday morning's events gave me a potential new T-shirt design idea

Do you know of the custom T-shirt designing studio in Aggieville? If you've lived in Manhattan (Little Apple) long enough, I'm sure you do! Thanks to what happened Sunday morning, I may come to them with the following slogans:

FRONT:

* Please find it in your Spirit-filled heart to forgive.
* You DO remember what forgiveness is, do you?
* Give people a chance to refute their actions, sometimes by reminding them of what (specifically) to refute.
* If they want to restore good terms with you, please do the same for them.

BACK:

*Top Center*  http://www.BigYesBomb.com (My blogsite's URL)

* (A Bible/BoM verse specifically foretelling that calamities may happen to people who refuse to forgive; I'll find that later.)
* (A Bible/BoM verse specifically commanding followers to tell their siblings (in Christ) what wrongs they've committed, so they'll know that the specific action they did was sinful, and I suppose what to refute and/or apologize for; I'll find that later.)

Now  Brian and Kevin, would you please critique that shirt proposal?

Also, if I started wearing that around fellow Ward members one day, what would they think? What would some, ahem,  contentious members think? And after finding out that this shirt was made for them?

Later on, I hope to link to a purchasing page for this T-shirt, from my blogsite. Maybe it'll catch on to the online populace sometime so that it helps me pay off some serious tuition! I'll pray to that.

I visited an abandoned children's hospital in the most lucid dream I've had in a while.

I just woke up from a dream where I visited New Orleans. In it, I and a traveling party came onto an abandoned riverside facility - "Skara Brae Memorial Children's Hospital" that apparently shut down in 1907.

A tour guide told us that many physical (misfortunes; forgot the word) happened to the children inside the hospital and on the grounds surrounding it, so it is rumored that we could still see the patients here.

Then I saw them floating around the hospital. Surprisingly enough, seeing these apparitions didn't faze me. They looked in the same conditions as they did when they died.

I went to bed in the middle of watching a Monk episode this afternoon (sometime about 2-3:30) because I got maybe 1-2 hours of sleep that morning, and kept asleep until about 3:15 this morning.

I guess lengthy rest WILL procure lucid dreams! Moreover, some dreams make me feel like a boy again.

Now, was there a children's hospital that shut down in New Orleans before 1950? If I can see pictures of them, maybe I can match it up to the abandoned hospital (and museum of sorts) that I saw in my dream.

Moreover, I KNEW I heard the term "Skara Brae" before somewhere, so I looked it up on Wikipedia. Here it was:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Skara_Brae

My dream didn't seem congruent in that regard; I should've been visiting an old children's hospital in Scotland, or one named "Metairie Memorial Children's Hospital," or any abandoned hospital with a New Orleans-esque name.

Incidentally, I only saw apparitions of white children. New Orleans is known for a considerable minority population. Why did my dreaming processes shut that out?

Weirdly enough, even though I only saw white apparitions, later into my dream, just a few minutes before waking up, I was walking down a street to an appliance department store, somewhere else in New Orleans. I saw some minority pedestrians walking alongside a street.

My only hypothesis is that this old children's hospital used to be segregated and only admitted white female patients. (I honestly can't remember seeing boy apparitions here either.)

I need to take this story to a somebody or some organization who studies dreams. Perhaps their analysis can give me a better glimpse of some deep psychological part about me.

Paris Journal - by M.F.K. Fisher (Literary Entry)

This is a required reading assignment for a university literary class. As this work is found in a few places elsewhere online, I have decided to set a precedent for many college students everywhere who so desperately look for a re-posted work online to copy-&-paste to a text-to-speech program. By having it read back to them, they spend a fraction of the effort otherwise spent manually reading this passage. Students seek paths of least resistance. I am constructing one of them.

I want to keep a not-too-sketchy list of meals, for fun. On the plane, there was the usual drawn-out procedure: two martinis, with olives and mixed nuts in a generous dish between my neighbor and me; a spoonful of mediocre caviar which tasted very good; turbot with mushrooms and little peas, which I nibbled; a few bites of Gruyere. I drank a poor white wine and a glass of good champagne and a very small brandy, over some three artfully prolonged hours. About two hours before we landed, I drank two more martinis in the long Northern dawn (it was dark only an hour or so on that flight), and then ate part of a very good crèpe filled with creamed chicken and drank another glass of the white wine-- still not good, but I enjoyed it.

About 6:30 yesterday, after settling into my delightful little room, and a deep bath, and a long fine sleep, I roamed this way and that, sniffing out old paths like a hound dog, and of course ended at le Café de la Paix. It was Sunday, and June, and Bright. Tout le monde et son petit fils! I spent an hour or so on a brandy and soda. I asked the waiter if one could eat at that hour, and when he pointed into the new snack bar Pacific, I asked him if it was all right for a single woman, which amazed him. He was nice. (Everybody is nice to me. It is my fat gentle face!)

I'm just about cured of that preoccupation with being alone. For this alone the Time/Life job is worth every hazard. I was not really morbid, nor even apprehensive. But it is true that I do not enjoy eating alone in American restaurants. In Fowler's and lower-class places the countless other single people depress me physically. In places where I pay for attention and better food I am suspect: all single women are either lushes or on the prowl, good waiters and restauranteurs have assured me. So . . . I am put near the bar if I look like a quick pickup (which I don't), and behind an aspidistra or a service table if I look like a troublesome drinker (which I may, judging by the aspidistras and service tables I have peeked through and over). In even "good" places I am served in a cursory way, something to be got through.

Well, all this seemed especially dismal when I thought of it in terms of French meals, to be eaten alone too. Where would I go? Should I ask the concierge? Would he send me to Smith's Tearoom? Was I doomed to replace the Clift French Room (where I go to be quiet) with the Continental--Paris and London dowagers instead of San Franciscan?

Le Pacific, where I sat once more watching the sidewalk, was quiet, rather busy, with harried waiters. I had a small carafe of a rather acrid but pleasant "Beaujolais," a good but oniony beef tartare, a silver of almost infamous Brie. It was fun. I needed to eat. It was right for then.

This morning I awoke very early. Across the empty rue de Rivoli the birds sang wildly in the lush trees. I waited as long as I could, but was almost surely the first one to ring for breakfast (I am reading a good Simenon-non-Maigret: l'homme du petit chien).

I drank half the coffee and milk hot. Delicious. Then I ate most of a croissant and a roll, all the butter, most of the strawberry jam. Then I finished the coffee and milk-- almost too cool, but bitter and good. (The bread, like that at la Paix, was disappointing. Of course yesterday was Sunday.) The butter was sweet and pale, in a little foil thing, as was the jam. Ho hum for the old sticky messy unsanitary pots . . . I felt fine.

This morning I made motions toward my employers. Nobody was there. Finally mme. Dupont was. She sounds nice-- quite efficient for a change. I was to call at 2:30ish.

I went out and walked great distances-- really not more than about two miles probably, but getting used to traffic, and going in little shops, and crawling over street repairs . . . I bought some bath oil, eau de cologne and soap!!! Worth's Je reviens. I would never do such a self-indulgent thing if I weren't alone. I bought six oeillets, yellow and red, and two bunches of a clear light yellow flower that looks like a little thistle blossom. They are lovely in the room. I got this cahier, air paper, pencils and so on.

When I came back, Janet Flanner had called. She called again. I went up to her room, above mine. She has just moved here permanently. It is exactly like mine but perhaps four feet more shallow, being higher in the mansard. It made me dream again of coming here when I am old.

She is effusive, amusing, kind and cold. I like her very much, and am attracted to her sureness of power.

I roamed off again, to find a small charcuterie-restaurant the room waiter told me about last night and JF verified as good, and amusing. It was both-- La Quetsch, on the rue des Capucines. Downstairs stools (high-- JF is afraid of falling off one) and a wild business at the sausage counter, for things to take out; upstairs on a good balcony on two sides, the restaurant. The prices are high, the food is much better than at le Pacific, the portions are very big.

I was fascinated by the delicatessen and snack bar below me. I had a good waiter. I ordered a vin blanc-- Cassis, which he surprised me by calling a Kir, which I thought was strictly Dijonnais. It did not interest me-- tepid, watery, sweet. Then I ate viande crue de Grisons, the first time I ever saw it in France. It was very good. Then asparagus. It was good, but I really did not want it-- I had eaten all the v.c., most of a really good roll (the first truly fresh good bread so far), and some sweet butter. (This was served instead of the olive oil of the ticino, I suppose-- a good idea, to cut the salt.) I drank most of the half bottle of an Alsatian rosé, which I did not know existed, a specialité de la maison. It was good. It had more character than most Provencal rosés. Rather like Heitz'Grignolino . . .

This afternoon I planned to go to the Orangerie to see an exhibit of a big collection given to the nation-- four great Cézannes. Instead I slept. It is very nice to be removed enough from Duty to remain unabashed (which I do) . . .

I put some order in my papers, and after the apparently routine rain storm between six and seven went out for a walk. I went to the Rond Point and then the whole length of the Tuileries, straight down the middle except for a few wanderings to locate the Punch & Judy, with no luck. This is one of the longest days of the year, with the sun almost directly due west, shining straight through the Arc de Triomphe. The children and old people had gone home, but lovers still tangled, and people walked briskly.

I am in favor, as always, of the knowing tender slow embraces in the public of the French. I find them sane. The surly furtive lovemaking in movies and parks of American teenagers is sad and ugly in comparison.

In the same way I really enjoy being noticed here as a human female being. At home men are supposed to look openly only at toothsome young girls. Here men of all ages look at me and in an instant place me, not with shy lust but with instinct and logic: I am "of a certain age," sure of myself, not interested in dalliance, experienced in living, clean, well-dressed but not modish, etc., etc. This flasyh of appraisal pleases me. It makes me enjoy things more, perhaps, than the cautious limited looks on Geary or Park can ever do. There is complete lack of interest, past the one appreciative recognition. Unless I myself would ask for it, of course . . .

That reminds me that last night I was "bothered," except that it did not bother me at all, by one of those men who fall into step to one side of a single woman and a little behind her, and mutter feeble obscenities. I did not even look at this one. I strode along, wondering if I should give him a straight va-t-en, and stayed toward the curb, and dropped him in six or seven blocks. I wonder if those men ever really go with women, or get their kicks from the possible fright they may induce, or even the things they mutter. I admit I was a little surprised-- the first time was in Paris too, 1929! Then I felt more actively bothered, or menaced, or smirched perhaps, being more innocent.

Well-- I prowled like a wary beast through the traffic after I left the Tuileries this afternoon, and stopped at a small bar on the Ave. de l'Opera, after looking for some time at the Comédie, very rosy now in its clean face. I ordered a vermouth-gin-sans-glacé. It was delicious. Next to me two sisters dressed alike in pale pink linen and white gloves and so on, about twelve and fourteen, sat with their parents drinking hot chocolate. The younger was pretty and coquettish, and the parents were enslaved. The older was intense and gawky, quite homely. So she tipped all her chocolate into her pink lap. The mother led her dripping down to the lavabo, and the younger sister flirted wildly with her father. Guiltily he turned stern, and confiscated a little book on Dufy she had bought.

I got back here about nine, and ordered a vegetable soup and a salad, with a half bottle of 1962 Pouilly-Fuissé. Very good. Just right. I ate three bowls of soup, all the salad, and am now three swallows from the end of the little bottle.

I feel very well. I am glad I am here, and alone here.

The Insincere Apology - Letter to Leon Czolgosz (Planned Novel Excerpt)

(This is an assignment I completed for Professor Heather Varnadore for the class: ENGL 461 - Creative Fiction Writing at Kansas State University on November 14, 2009. The assignment was "Formal Writing 3: The Insincere Apology." This letter is intended to be an excerpt of "Perfecting the Past" - an alternate-history novel I have been planning.)

From the desk of:

Chairman Taka Shinohara

Shinohara Group

1 Shinohara Parkway, Top Floor chamber suite

Lincoln, NE 68521

April 1, 1901

       Dear Mr. Leon Czolgosz,

As I had a crate specially sprayed gold, with the label “To Be Opened by Leon Himself,” I hope that in this crate, this letter finds you well, along with the other precious items I and my workers have left for you at your villa. As you may have noticed by now, by the time that you read this letter, all of my movers will have finished their duties and moved off your island while you slept, on what is most likely the scheduled date of May 31, 1901.

I humbly apologize, but I have left you without a boat. You however, have been left with 10 years’ supplies worth of nonperishable food, plus a garden and a crate full of seeds for you to grow your own food from. For companionship, I have provided you with a pair of dogs, cats, and parrots. For activities, I have provided you with stacks of empty journals, crates of pencils and pens, easels and art supplies, numerous literary works, and many other hobby items. I sincerely hope that they and these will all help you cope in this most difficult isolating time.

Now you see, you must realize that leaving you on this island was a national necessity for the good of the United States government. I have studied your life, and known you as a man with a tendency to attempt disorder in government, other sectors of politics and the overall public good.

After my agents studied your journals, we have learned of your anarchist interests and plans, and it was decided amongst us that in order to prevent you from causing a national tragedy on our soil, we would move you to a private mansion and island off the coast of Jamaica.

I realize that this letter will deeply trouble you and leave you in emotional agony, but as you have also demonstrated reclusive tendencies, I trust that you will quickly learn to adapt to your isolation and thrive with the resources we have brought to this island before settling you here.

In this remote region of the Caribbean, I have given consideration to the possibility of adverse weather in the area, and had my workers dig five floors of cellars for you below ground, so that you would stay completely safe in case any inclement storms arrive at your island. I would advise you to place your most precious works in these cellars, so that they are less subject to the elements than they would be above ground.

In the event that you somehow learn to craft a boat out of crate and other materials, and wend your way back to civilization, by the time you re-enter the United States, I will have arranged for the Secret Service to be more thoroughly secure in how they coordinate security between the President and visiting public. This was made possible by paying off the entire National Debt, giving the United States a Surplus, and gaining considerable influence with the U.S. Government as a result. I will also have bankrolled the research and development of more effective methods of personal security so that any high-powered figure will be safer from would-be assassins. Therefore, if you still have plans to commit an assassination, those will become more likely to fail as the intended targets will be too thoroughly secured by their security details at that point.

From your learning this, I hold out high hopes that you will focus your energies on more productive pursuits (of which the penning of literary journalism would be a great example thereof) and gain numerous inspirations during your isolation. From this, if you somehow wend your way back to society, you will have hopefully abandoned your anarchic ways and undertake pursuits that are helpful to society.

Once again, I humbly apologize for leaving you on a deserted island, but this was so that society and the government would remain safe while your isolation transforms you into the man that society will embrace instead of loathe.

As a footnote, I cordially invite you to read the velvet Bible I have also left for you in the golden crate. I hope that it provides you with mounds of inspiration, and makes you a better person than you are now.

With the utmost sincerity,

-      Taka Shinohara,

Chairman of Shinohara Group

Nature Writing Snippet for the Grassy Quad in Front of Anderson Hall (Assignment entry)

Nature Writing – English 465 – 11-4-2009

It is rather warm for November today. I need not wear my jacket all the way on. This grass clearing in front of Anderson has this kind of idyll that cannot be replicated even in the summer. There are no mosquitoes or pests to bother me right now because they have gone away for the season. Also, this Autumn scene gives a picturesque quality that can only show for a short time, and cannot show again for another year.

The falling and fallen leaves reflect an idyll that is best seen in pictures of the New England region of our country. Even though Kansas is stereotypically farmland, this is a college town, and many college towns have a tendency to look picturesque like this. Kansas State University must have a large landscaping budget, because they did a real fine job at making this campus look uplifting.

Soon, winter will hit, and this beauty and ideal temperature will all be gone for a few months. All must take time to appreciate and soak in the beauty, and even take snapshots with their cameraphone to make it last longer, as this scene is but a fleeting moment in the workings of nature.

A botched escape attempt, that I was THREATENED to facilitate! (Personal entry)

By request, all of the relevant names and places have been aliased.

The Thursday before the Fall semester started, (Natalya) told me that her boyfriend (at the time) (Graham Curry) emailed her and asked for me and her to come to (Collenzae), MO to "rescue" him from his abusive fianceé, (Mushira Saddick). (Natalya) offered to pay me for the trouble.

On that Friday, (Mushira) was supposed to be at work being a receptionist for (Graham)'s mom's business, so (Graham) was supposed to be home alone with his Dad (whom we could slip by unnoticed) while his roommates were also at work. That's what we were told in our email.

I had a few bad experiences the last time I took her to (Collenzae), so I really didn't want to go, no matter how much she paid me. (I figured it would be no more than $200.) I asked her why (Graham) couldn't provide his own way out of his misery he called home. She said his car broke down, and there's no other car he can take to leave in.

I then asked her why he couldn't just get a taxi to the airport and fly a regional flight to Manhattan. Turns out, that a trip from (Collenzae) to the national airport in (Summerlawn) would be a little over 50 miles. At $2.50 a drop and $1.80/mile, it would be about $100 after tip. (I later found out that the closer (Chavez), MO had an airport, but that's beside the point, as I didn't think of it at the time.)

I really did not want to waste the remaining days of my summer trying to help a friend escape, which I ALREADY knew was VERY LIKELY to FAIL! I then asked (Natalya) to ask (Graham) to just hitchhike. After all, I would have hitched a ride out of a place I was that miserable in. (This was just hearsay from (Natalya) that (Mushira) was being abusive and harsh to (Graham). I didn't have verifiable proof to back it up.)

(Graham)'s phone ran out of minutes, and calling the house-phone was not an option because (Graham) lived in a separate mini-house across a way from the family's trailer, so the others were most likely to answer the phone first. They had been instructed by (Mushira) not to forward (Natalya)'s calls to (Graham) because that would ruin their path to marriage.

(Natalya) emailed back (Graham) some of my suggestions and what-not, but we both knew that since (Graham)'s internet access was sporadic, it would be several days before we got a response, and his last email instructed us to spring him out of (Collenzae) that Friday.

(Natalya) also pointed out that hitchhiking wasn't possible for (Graham) because he also wanted to take his computer and MANY of his belongings with him, so only a transport by car would make that possible.

I told her that I REALLY, REALLY hated to drain the remaining days of my summer on an escape attempt that was likely to fail, so I told her that "maybe this relationship wasn't meant to be. Maybe if he's really unhappy with (Mushira), he can find the will to break it off with her and find his own way to escape!"

(Natalya) wouldn't budge from her nourishing (Graham)'s weakness, so:

She THREATENED me

She was planning to live in a room next to mine in my apartment here in Manhattan, and to take classes at K-State. I was in charge of her well-being.

The threat she made was that she was going to move to Kansas City, room with her friends and find a job there if I did not take her to (Graham). I absolutely ABHOR long drives (unless I was paid like $1/mile both ways) and I knew that I knew that I knew that I knew that I knew, that this was going to fail somewhere. I just had this extra-strong intuition that this escape attempt would get heavily botched!

I am very much the opposite of a "morning person," so she made ANOTHER demand that I did not appreciate- that I get up by 6:15 and leave by 6:30. Moreover, she had decided to just pay for my gas, toll, and food, nothing extra. I knew I was going to gain absolutely nothing out of this escape attempt. (I gained something unrelated, but I'll touch upon that soon.)

I managed to get up anyhow, and not be as cranky and cantankerous as I thought I was going to be, and left together.

We were down in (Seminolehead), MO by 10:00 or so, and that's when (Natalya) told me to call the (Curry) residence. She didn't want to do it herself because she was afraid her voice would be recognized. I called, the Mom, (Charlene) (Curry), answered. I said I was one of (Graham)'s friends, and whether I could speak to him. She said he was "running some errands." I took a power-nap, and we waited until about 11:00 to go to his place on (Highway NN) right outside of (Collenzae).

When we reached there, the road on the thickly-forested hill was laden with mini rock outcroppings, and it was so rough and unkempt that I swore something in it was going to tear a vital tube or component on the bottom of my car. Many decrepit objects laid strewn across their forested property, and several broken-down cars dotted it as well. I figured that maybe the rough and unevenness of the jagged excuse they called a "driveway" caused those cars to stop functioning.

(Natalya) wanted to be let out to hide in the forest in case anyone else was there. I had to go up there alone.

Extra bad luck

As I struggled to get the car up the driveway, a red Oldsmobile Alero followed me. (Natalya) called a few seconds later to notify me that somebody is following me, so that was a pointless conversation.

When I parked the car, (Alva) came out of the Oldsmobile. He's not related to the (Curry)s, but is a good friend of (Graham)'s who got kicked out of his parent's house when he turned 18, and couldn't find a place to stay, so the (Curry)s provided him shelter.

I asked him where (Graham) was, that I needed to speak to him because it was very important. He asked if this was about (Natalya), and I just responded that it's something pretty important. He went away for a bit.

Then I dialed the 700 Club at 1-800-759-0700, and asked for a prayer for success in getting (Graham) out of there. During the prayer, (Alva) started approaching me like a creeper in an alley. I had thought I made it abundantly clear that I was on a call by putting a phone up to my ear. Maybe I should've turned on "Speakerphone Mode" so that he'd have gotten the hint. He interrupted the prayer someone was giving me, and told me that it's not (Natalya)'s place to try to decide for (Graham) who he's going to be with, so that we both had to leave.

I think his interrupting the prayer that the counselor was giving me caused the message not to be sent to God. Or maybe it got sent to God, and he disregarded it since I couldn't have the willpower to keep concentrating on the prayer uninterrupted. Or maybe, God planned this failure all along because (Natalya) and (Graham) were never "meant to be." If that was the case, why did he have to facilitate (Natalya)'s threat to coerce me to take her to (Collenzae)?

(Alva) then went up to the separate mini-house and told something to a friend. Then we briefly went in the house, and I saw (Natalya) briefly. Then she disappeared out the back. After (Alva) made threats of beating me up, I called (Natalya) to tell her this, but she didn't pick up the call. Then we both started looking for her around the property and around the forest; she was nowhere to be seen.

(Natalya) hid

I kept calling her repeatedly and her phone still took me to voicemail. I left numerous voicemails that day.

Since (Alva) threatened me, I unhooked my pepper spray from my keychain and kept it in my pocket. I then felt confused as to how and why (Natalya) would just disappear on us like that. He told me to call (Charlene) to ask her if she thought it was okay with us being there. He dialed her, and gave his phone to me.

It was (Charlene)'s (Spine-care) office in nearby (Peoplesdale).

I asked her what her stance was on me and (Natalya) being there to visit (Graham), and she said that "it's up to (Graham) and (Mushira)," and that they were getting married in a week. I also told her of (Alva)'s threat of physical violence, then I handed the phone back to (Alva).

I guess whatever (Charlene) told him must've spooked him because after he got off the phone, he told me that he wasn't really intending physical violence; that he was just trying to get me to leave, which wouldn't happen unless we could find (Natalya) again.

I saw (Graham)'s dad (who was actually in his 70s) take a huge bag of trash into a van because his dumpster is actually in (Peoplesdale); there's no trash pick-up for his property. As soon as the dad was loading his trash bags into the van, I saw (Graham) and (Mushira), holding hands, pace-walk to the van. (Alva) told me not to go after them. I asked him what would've happened if I tried to confront him. He said that (Mushira) would've just rushed him toward the van faster.

It turns out that he talked to (Graham) when he went up to the house, and when (Alva) told (Graham) that (Natalya) was here, (Graham) was like, "Oh, ooookay!" My first thought when he left with (Mushira) was that if he tried to stay, he would displease (Mushira) and he did not want to risk getting on her bad side, so he had to pretend that he was compliant to (Mushira), but I'm not sure what the true story is there.

While we waited for (Natalya), we went inside the trailer and that's when (Alva) told me that (Graham) likes to pull jokes on people like that. He likes to lie for his own personal entertainment, so it would entertain him to see us try to come here to get him to escape with us. (Alva) said that he even doesn't know when to trust (Graham) anymore, because he's compulsive like that.

I told (Alva) that if (Natalya) doesn't show her face by 1:00, that we'd call the (Santa Clara) County Sheriff to send a search-and-rescue team to the property to find (Natalya). We kept looking around the property, and the dense forest around it. Still no sign of her. I kept attempting her cellphone numerous times.

1:00 was approaching, and our conversation became more amicable in the meantime. We were almost making each other smile, in fact, because we've gotten comfortable with each other. I told him that I needed their non-emergency number because I didn't want to pay $50 to Alltel "per incident." (That meant $50 for every 911 call I placed.) He looked up their non-emergency number on the Internet (that he provided himself out in the boonies with an Alltel USB satellite internet receiver.)

I dialed the number as soon as 1:00 approached, and (Alva) relayed the address to me as it was hard to remember it myself. I gave them the rundown of her - that she was 18, and etc.

(Natalya) comes back!

Then (Natalya) appeared out of nowhere from the kitchen and waved to me. (Maybe she was hiding under the kitchen sink? Who knows?) That's when I emphatically told them that we just found her; she's right there, so we don't need for them to come after all, and I wrapped up the call.

That's about the time when (Mushira) returned with (Graham)'s father. I kept my face turned away as often as I could because I didn't want to show my face to (Mushira).

We both used the restroom, (Alva) had a brief exchange with (Natalya), then we both left unceremoniously.

We headed to (Peoplesdale).

I remembered where (Graham)'s mom's (Spine-care) clinic was, from our last visit in May. We visited them, and sat down with (Graham), (Charlene), and her co-worker/friend. (Natalya) pulled out her marriage certificate that she and (Graham) both got in a courthouse months ago (and that I wasn't aware of until I was in that office.)

We also wanted to know why (Mushira) was there with him, and (Alva) as well. I don't remember why (Mushira) didn't leave for work that day, but (Alva) told me earlier that he was laid off from a job so he was coming back home from filling out job applications. We were there to clear up many confusions.

(Graham) said that he wanted us to come the FOLLOWING week. Well then, he should've specified a DATE, not just a day. Maybe what (Alva) was telling me was right - maybe (Graham) was lying for entertainment, because who else would want to leave such a gaping loophole that was not giving the date? (That date wouldn't have worked anyway because that would've been our first week of classes.)

We were talking to get things caught up and cleared up, when (Mushira) showed up from the back and put her hands on his shoulder. Somehow, her intuition told her that we were going to head straight to where (Graham) was in (Peoplesdale) to confront him, so she decided to "save the day" from us.

At that point, (Charlene) told us to "go home," and that she doesn't mean any rudeness or discourtesy, but that she'll make (Graham) decide whether to be with (Natalya) or (Mushira), and that if he was going to be with (Natalya), he'd contact her in a few days. (Also, if he chose (Natalya), (Charlene) would place (Mushira) in her own apartment in Kansas City and give her enough resources to start life on her own.)

Shortly after we left, I thought of another compelling argument: "Perhaps (Mushira) doesn't seem abusive to (Graham) in front of (Charlene) and others to put on a showcase cover, but that she is harsh toward him "behind the scenes" when it's only the two of them, and that (Charlene) should consider that probability." I entertained this thought to (Natalya), and she told me to turn around to tell them.

I asked (Natalya) to, since I didn't want to have anything to do with this situation, and she insisted that I do it. I wasn't comfortable dealing with situations that weren't even mine, as I wasn't even comfortable going on this trip, as expressed earlier, so I told her I wasn't going to do it unless it was to just park out of view and wait for her as she went in and told it to them herself.

((Natalya) also mentioned some time ago that (Mushira) has a tendency to get violent, as she once did toward (Natalya), so that was why she was afraid to go in there. Well, (Mushira) getting violent in front of (Charlene) would be bad form towards (Charlene), so there wasn't as much to be afraid of as (Natalya) had thought.)

At this point, I knew it was over.

I wanted this to be over, and to be out of there as soon as possible, so we got to a Dairy Queen in (Chavez) (that (Graham) used to work and be miserable at,) then got our meals and headed north towards Kansas City.

We were somewhere in Johnson County when we took a nap at a parking lot of a Taiwanese restaurant. Then I called Jacob Holland, a close, good buddy of mine from my years at Navigators. I told him that I would make good on my promise to swing by his house whenever I was in the area. We were excited to hear each other, and I promised I'd be there by 6:30 (or was it 6?)

I went toward his part of Kansas City, but got lost in some industrial area and had to guess where to turn. I eventually got it right and arrived as the day was dusking.

I turned a sad day happy for both of us because it's always a blessing to visit each other, and always improves our moods. We got caught up on a LOT of things in life, and he expressed his opinion on the LDS, as he saw from some of my previous status updates and Note entries that I have become a part of the LDS. Then he gave me a large, black book about the LDS that he urged me to read.

It was "One Nation Under Gods: A History of the Mormon Church" by Richard Abanes. Since it's such a large book, and I have 16 credit-hours to work on this semester, I may get to it right after the semester concludes.

We also talked about their first daughter Adie, and how she's progressing along. Then after a few more updates on our lives, and introducing (Natalya) and her plans for her college life, we said our good-byes and headed home.

Conclusion

At first, I thought (Graham) was a pretty decent guy whenever he'd visit our house. I found nothing wrong with him thus far. Then we visited his (maternal) grandparents near Kansas City, and their house, though kinda small, looked cozy and fine. He was staying there while going to UMKC for some time. They all seemed decent, so I didn't think negatively of him yet.

Then when we visited his actual place in (Collenzae) in May, not only was the family trailer unkempt and poorly-maintained, his mini-house was MUCH more unkempt! He left things strewn all over the place! I expressed my feelings about this to (Natalya), and she defended (Graham) that time by saying that he doesn't have time to clean up because he has to work (and apparently substitute-teach Arabic) so much. Even though his living space's uncleanliness caused me to think that he is not the right guy for (Natalya), I gave a little benefit of the doubt and started to assume that maybe he would take the time to clean if he had the time.

When I read and heard that (Mushira) was seeing (Graham), but that (Graham) was still kind of interested in (Natalya), that casted more doubt into me. My suspicions that (Graham) wasn't right for (Natalya), grew. I had a gut feeling somewhere that (Natalya) had to cut off the relationship with (Graham). Not only did this long-distance relationship make me think so, his love triangle with (Mushira) and my sister caused me to think that (Natalya) is so much better off with someone else.

When we returned to make a botched rescue attempt on (Graham), I had managed to check out (Graham)'s (and now (Mushira)'s) living spaces in their mini-house. It was as messy and strewn about as before; the only addition being that there was an extra bed next to (Graham)'s. I told (Natalya) that since (Graham) didn't have a job, he would now have to have time to clean up after himself. She couldn't counter-argue that.

Also, if (Mushira) cared at all about her living space's cleanliness, she would've gotten them to tidy up the place together. Apparently (Mushira) is the true soul-mate of (Graham) because she cares about tidiness just as little as he does! I could not put up with that, and I would not want (Natalya) to put up with that either. (She said she would help clean up for (Graham). Oh, what a way to BABY that kid, eh? (Graham) was two years OLDER than (Natalya), by the way.)

Now she's seeing someone named "Tim," and he's from Topeka. He can just give her a ride himself, but if (Natalya) ever needed me to bring her to Tim's house, I would be happy to give her a ride there, as Topeka is just a little over an hour from here. To evaluate how good Tim is, I would also need to visit his apartment here in Manhattan. I would have to ask (Natalya) to clear it with him, but I have good hopes that Tim keeps his place better than (Graham) did, and that he is an overall better guy to (Natalya) than (Graham) was.

(Graham)'s chapter in our lives officially closed when he and (Mushira) got married, and I didn't have much of a good opinion of the guy by the last time I saw him anyway, so I was fine to have (Natalya) and myself move on from him.