I'd Like you To Know...

This is a bit of information/background for those of you who don't know.

So here are yesterday's developments.

Manager at Annie's Parlor will be giving his supervisor a full recommendation for me and assured me that when they begin ramping up their staff for the patio season, I'd be at the top of the list. (gives me goosebumps to be validated that much)

My general manager at McDonalds, literally fifteen minutes later, after a short conversation, asks me if I want to join the management team there.

Bullet points one and two cause me to pause and thank God for his goodness and grace. I definitely don't deserve this, and it's really incredible to finally have to choose between eager parties rather than be eager to have a party to choose.

Wow. Just wow. The manager at Annie's in particular sort of wowed me. While I did sort of impress with a good suit and tie and greatcoat fashion as some will know me for, I can't really think what else I did that would make him that impressed with me. I'm downright curious. XD

My general manager at McDonalds, on the other hand...there's a similar sort of mild confusion going on; I don't necessarily know why they want me to be a manager; I can't see myself easily becoming a great manager, and I don't think I see a ton of great manager potential in my current work. Maybe I'm a bit blindsided or whatever. I might not personally be seeing the whole picture, or understanding everything.

To make a good day better, I spent a mere 15-30 minutes at the DMV getting my license renewed. Hardly any line.

It was also snowing, so I managed to get my greatcoat rather white-looking walking between bus stops on the way home.

Thank you Lord.

My decision is leaning toward staying at McDonalds and receiving what seems to be nearly legendary training in management. It seems to me an excellent opportunity, and management training from almost anyone else would probably be simply ignored on a resume. On the other hand, Annie's is like one of my favorite places on Earth.

Maybe next year. *shivers*

Thanks for all your prayers and stuff, guys. I appreciate it.


!Noah!

Word and Heart

He saw the stars and the countries of the world, the glories, graces, and graces; he saw Ireland, he saw what he most wished for. Where was it from? He knew not.

But for all he saw, his eyes darkened to the power of fear; his skin tingled with the death it afforded. When its power crept upon him, his limbs clattered amongst themselves, as death made short work of his flesh, and dried his bones until they sounded of Death’s own foul socks.

Darkness went on vacation, drinking martinis and eating caviar; it cut all ties with the land, and made its ways that of the island. Its holiday was indefinite; not merely infinite. It would return, somewhere in the breath of infinity, but the light was golden.

The boy woke, suddenly, stupifyingly more than he ever previously was. Words came from fearful tongue, rattled the cold air, which, unnerved, unready and utterly, utterly faithful, carried all the heart and soul they were made for unto distant, far fairer eardrums.

What estate is this, words cried, baffled midflight; we fly and resound, oh so softly.

What life have we now, they murmured in fearful wonder. Oh! the light we finally feel.

Words learned the weight of tears and of laughter, and the immense gravity of themselves.

The words were proud, for ever so slight a moment; they smiled and laughed in the air, sending astounding life into the world’s grey, cobwebby corners.

They lived. Their life was not short, as they once again found heart, and knocked with abounding vigor thereupon.

The heart was silent for a moment, patient and thoughtful in its still.

The heart burned, but the words would not say why. They were captive to the heart.

!Noah!

I Love Life

My life has changed. It's been 49 days, but unfortunately I won't be telling you since what. I live a different life today, though; if colors happened to be brighter today than they were seven weeks ago, I wouldn't have been surprised.

Unfortunately, it's winter, so that is unlikely. (I do hope to take some wonderfully colorful photos of my family; perhaps not for Christmas but for New Year's. Maybe for Easter or something. We delay.)

But as of about a month ago, I've asked out exactly one girl. Said girl declined my query, but I can say without a doubt that my life is better for it.

Better for her declension? (don't know if that word even belongs anywhere outside grammar, but I brought it along for the ride) No, I'm better for having asked. Perhaps it's different the second, third, fourth time (whether it be the same or another girl), but I 100% believe that if you manage to detach yourself from the outcome of said question, you will find yourself infinitely more courageous, confident, and able to face life.

Perhaps you're not romantic like me and can't see the appealing danger of the question, the terror of denial, and make it far, far more than it is (and simultaneously less, I believe), but if you're me, the appeal of the unknown is actually fairly great.

One caveat, though; I realize that my hope that the girl may say yes at a future date might be the reason for my borderline euphoric half month or so following the question...

However, I believe that I am, in fact, somewhat cured. Perhaps it will still touch me should she ultimately deny me, but I am sure I will be less of a depressed wreck at the end of it.

Imagine for a minute if women had to worry that much less about saying no...maybe more of them would rightly say no instead of accepting, only to complicate an already difficult situation.

I don't know, but it's food for thought.


My mind is clearer. I may end up writing a proper story sometime soon, because of it.

I have legitimately noticed women taking more notice of me, being more attracted to me. This is related to the rather more secretive subject, I believe, as others have said the same.

A particular girl at work, until about the same three weeks ago, was borderline disrespectful and typically unhelpful. Today, she is willing, helpful, and especially respectful to me. It's almost uncanny, and it makes me wonder if she has a crush on me, to some degree. Too much info? Sorry.


I've been taking cold showers, and you may think I'm crazy for that, in the middle of a Minnesota winter, but I'm telling you, come out of a hot shower into the cold Minnesota we know and love, and you will be COLD, but come out of a moderately chilly shower into the slight warmth of your (totally non-foggy, by the way) bathroom, and you'll feel fine, even sans towel. No joke. And even in front of my computer, inches from badly insulated windows, and a slight draft on my feet, I feel slightly warm, if only in my core. (my appendages retain heat especially badly when I'm at my computer)


In short, guys, I've felt better in the last few weeks than I have for the last five years. No exaggeration, no hyperbole. I find myself driving places and just LOVING being alive for no freaking reason. I'm more positive and outgoing at work than I've ever been before (which McDonalds itself, as well as my coworkers, are partially due credit for), and I FREAKING ASKED A GIRL OUT.

ME.

HOW THE HECK DID THAT HAPPEN?!

Do you understand now? I ASKED A GIRL OUT.

"Did she say ye...."

I ASKED A GIRL OUT.

"Did sh..."

I ASKED A GIRL OUT.

*sighs*

It'd be awkward if she found this, but I guess that's ok, because she's pretty chill.


Anyway. I had a lot to say for the last month and a half, and you just got the highlights.

Thanks for reading, guys, and please, please don't come to McDonalds this New Years' Eve. I'm serious.

Why?

Because you could instead ask a girl out. Imagine having a date in 2014.

Gosh.

A whole year to wait.

So worth it.

(I was going to title this post something super dramatic and spiritual or something, but it kinda didn't go that way. Reason number one why Noah will DEFINITELY now cease trying to title his posts before he writes them.)


!Noah!

That Girl Ruby

"So this is it?" he asked, somewhat stiffly, "third time, and no cigar?"

Venus shook her head. Her gorgeous hair flowed easily over her shoulders, as if it was enjoying this moment.

He nodded shortly. He had always hoped this wouldn't happen. It was familiar, unfortunately. The desolation of sudden, unfortunate denial.

It'd happened before, of course. It was a time loop. He couldn't escape it, apparently.

Venus had cruelly seduced him with utterly innocent loveliness without remorse or understanding. She was blind to my struggle, but of course she had her own. Poor mortals such as our hero queried for her hand day after day, day and night, spring, summer, winter, and fall. Her sad struggle is not included here, but will be told another time.

Venus. Naturally it wasn't her real name; naturally she wouldn't permit him that deep. He couldn't think of any better way to describe her, though. He didn't know how to be more in love than he was with her. Over and over and over and over. Each time felt simultaneously as much real and infinitely more real than the time before.

He was stuck.

Our hero's name shall be Swishkin. He had had his heart broken too many times to remember his own name, so his heart's pieces, over and over, time and time again, tried to regain identity, meaning, fullness.

They did not.

The shards of his heart cut carelessly through his calloused feet, but they would not bleed, of course; they were too tired.


The smell of death crept upon Swishkin.

Let me describe it to you. I have smelt death, I believe, and this is what it was like; death smelt of dirt, and the dryness of dust; death smelt of blood, and the wetness of mud too; death smelt of the earth and its dirtiest dirt. Death made my tongue feel arid, like a long, long drought.

Swishkin died.
It was not the third time.

Spring


The sun was shining, and things were pretty good. There was snow on the ground, but it was slowly sinking into the ground, like that rock that makes a pothole but then up and leaves, like it's nothing.

Swishkin, who was back then known as Jack, had school to do. As anyone with a brain in their head would do, he had taken said school outside and parked it directly under a tree of unrealistic gorgeosity. Things were bright. And by bright, I mean it looked like the world had painted itself rather absurdly brightly. I guess perhaps I could just say the world took a really big dose of LSD and had minutes to live, but I'm not positive that's the effect LSD would even have on the world if intravenously fed to a human, let alone ingested by our dear Blue Dot.

Things had gone south, recently, but Jack was rapidly forgetting it. There was no reason to dwell on a past never bought or paid for, never taken or claimed. He had a future, real and true to see to. And most important in that future, naturally, was a figure, of course, whose visage and, in fact, entire appearance, simply made the world tone things down a bit for sheer awe. Or at least that's how Jack saw it.

Said figure wore a knee-length dress with slightly pinkish overall color. Jack hadn't risked staring at said dress long enough, or advanced near enough to know the exact pattern on it. He suspected there were pink birds involved, and perhaps fiendishly gorgeous hearts, as well. She fit the dress well. Her hair was blonde, because Jack couldn't find anything wrong with blonde hair. Or maybe Jack couldn't find anything wrong with blonde hair because she wore it upon her scalp.

Her name was fabulously, absolutely, undeniably important. It was Emma. Or Julia. Or maybe Joy, or Grace, or Fiona, or maybe it was Jasmine. Perhaps not.

No. Her name was none of those, but Jack had a hard time remembering it. He couldn't understand why, and it made him grow very sweaty, as he couldn't possibly address her without knowing her name. He'd been introduced at least twice, so he was socially contracted to remember her name, or have his head removed using a chainsaw.

Ruby. Her name was Ruby.

"Ruby!" He exclaimed half accidentally. He uttered it without half the thought it obviously required, for he made a right troll of a perfectly good name.

Ruby looked his way, and he instantly felt his internal organs melt like chocolate on the surface of the sun. It was at least as messy, to be honest. Jack couldn't figure out how to breathe anymore because his lungs were simply somewhere else.

"What's up, Jack?" Ruby said with such ridiculous ease.

It was as if her tongue had been doing this talking thing for more than ten seconds.
This was more than could be said of Jack's tongue at this point, as his only response was to gulp. Somehow, his organs seemed to be organized enough for that much.

Ruby giggled slightly, because she could.

It struck Jack that Ruby was better at giggling than anyone he'd ever met, and he wasn't just saying that because he was head over heels in love with her.

It also struck him that Ruby had been somewhat curiously smiling at him for what seemed like the last half decade. One should be shot for so wasting this fabulous thing's time.

Jack reassembled his vocal cords, and managed to get some operation out of his speech center, resulting in the following pitiful sentence: "I like your dress."

He thought about that sentence for a millisecond afterward, and felt very conflicted about it; on the one hand, it was true. He loved that dress. It looked great on her, and he wasn't really ashamed to say it. However, he'd almost never said anything like that to any girl ever before in his entire life.

It felt big and incredibly, terribly frightening.

"Oh, thanks," she said, smiling. She turned on her heel and disappeared into the fabulous brightness of the campus, denying it all its glory in lieu of hers.

Jack slumped like a rag doll and sat there, blind, deaf, and dumb for a good minute or two before regaining full consciousness and comprehension.

Jack would then have been as easily seduced by the most beautiful woman in the world as by a cockroach. That is to say, his heart was no longer in his hands, so he couldn't possibly use it for anything but Ruby. He lived and breathed at her will, he wilted or floundered, drowned or swum, flew or plummeted as she demanded. He could not but love her as she set his heart's bearing.

He was undulated by the unnecessity of any other affection.

I Don't Like Writing Poetry

Lord, help me to change always, for perfection is a long way off;
Bring me every day nearer to you, for my walk is yet long.

My heart follows after the lies of the devil;
and my mind deceives my heart with foolish lies.

My heart runs after riches and glory and all good things, Lord;
but for you my feet do not amble.

I feel the need for goods and love and praise, but do not see your glory as my own. I eat my food and wake my days and sleep my nights, but I do not see you! I am bent over as an old man, Lord, and my heart is of too many minds to survive! Unite my loves for you, and use my heart for your glory.

Your miserable wretch,


!Noah!

I hate mail

And let me tell you why.

Ok, so here's how it starts. A woodsman of some sort in some wood in some far away place looks upon a tree and sets about cutting it down. Soon, it's sent down a river, or carried on a truck, for thousands of miles. This tree then finds its way to a factory where it is cut into pieces of some sort or another, mulched, and then combined with water to make pulp. After that, by a process of compression and more compression, it becomes paper. This paper is rolled or cut and sent all over the world. This paper gets made into an envelope, and that piece of paper gets made into a 8.5 by 11 sheet of everyday, ordinary paper. On this paper is put a message, meant to mean something. A postage stamp is put on the envelope and it is driven or flown more thousands of miles and walked up to my doorstep.

Then, unceremoniously, without care or wonder, the envelope is torn open, the letter is scanned without care and, and this is the part that I hate, it is discarded and forgotten.

Why do I hate mail, then, do you ask? Put yourself in the letter's shoes. Would you like to be sent from an organization in the knowledge that it could very well end up in a landfill? What cause is so important that paper should be discarded like that?

I hate my brain.


!Noah!

OBAMA REELECTED, STILL WON'T PUBLICALLY WALK ON WATER

In a surprising culmination of an absurd quantity of opinions expressed in similarly absurd proximity, our current President, Barack Obama, was asked by the convoluted, but age-old process of "filling in the oval completely and darkly," to become our future president as well. A president of past, present, and future?

Wanton sensationalism seemed lacking, so we consulted the ever-vigilant Mr. Bertilson.

"I've got to say, I didn't see it coming. I mean, I did, but it took me fifteen hours as an election judge to think, 'Oh, snap, we're deader than peat moss in outer space!'"

Wanton sensationalism still seemed absent, so security was sent to the back yard, the roof, and the smelly inside of your sofa, davenport, and couch.

"I'd just like to say this...to all of you out there wondering if the world really will end this December, or if America is a minimum of six inches under already, with good prospect of going significantly more distance under, or if you feel that this election is an example of why Canada isn't such a bad idea, remember this one thing! In our darkest hour, when all seemed lost (and was, actually), we were never choosing between a black man and a white man, or a Republican and a Democrat, or a President and a former Governer; rather, we were chosing between a lawyer...and a pastor."

Wanton sensationalism was found later today with multiple stab wounds and half a dozen misplaced concussions...and mutilated beyond belief...and exploded all over...Facebook.


!Noah!

Idols, Homosexuality, and Other Stuff My Mind Cares Far Too Much About

Yeah, like that's gonna happen.

The previous statement is neither a comment on the current political atmosphere, nor a tortilla asking for salsa during, well, a salsa.

Y'see, I put undue hope in the power of the elections. Mitt Romney! Woo hoo! He's Christianish, pro-Life, and most likely headed back to whichever house he prefers to lick his wounds at. Sure, it's not a sure thing at this point, but if Romney wins Ohio and another electorally significant state such that he wins the electoral college...well, I'll go bald 'til the apocalypse blows over.

You can quote me on that.

But on to the point of this post, which, a lot like an actual pin, is simply an assembly of atoms socially awkward enough to shove all of the atoms in your thumb out of the way just by getting near.

YEAH, THAT"S HOW IT WORKS, FOLKS. MEDICAL SCIENCE, RIGHT HERE!

But to the point, no matter how awkward and stupid. Let's see.

Ok, so I want a camera. I want a relationship. Yeah, everyone knows that, and most likely everyone also knows it's not a healthy relationship, desire, hope.

But...honestly, I've never tried. It's not to say I don't realize it won't work, it's just that I haven't had that apparently mandatory process of realizing, oh, right, you're too small for the hole in my heart, so you literally, metaphorically fell through.

I mean, I might say cameras haven't exactly elevated me to my hopeful and dreaming estate of perfection, comfort, and whimsical carelessness. But it's not like I've ever really hated to be "with" cameras, so to speak. Is it an idolatry? I would hesitantly say no, but I'm as liable to trust myself in this sort of thing as an iguana is to become a ninja, however blissful the thought.

So...me and Cameras...we can stay together, right?

Heck, how should I know. You're talking to yourself, noob.

It's a literary device! A crude one, and probably ineffective, but spoons never stopped me from avoiding tomatoes, did they?

But what of undue hopes? Idols and stuff and such. It's all well and good in life until you decide you can't live without running with scissors. I mean, if that happens to be your thing.

Odd though it be, I think I discovered an excellent hangman word. Ok, continuing...

But a girl! A girl! Is it so wrong or stupid or even evil that I should be a Pandora's box of wonder and glory all for God, but that some girl should have the key?

Man, I'm stupid.

How could that be? Why should that be?

I guess it should be obvious to me, with absolute certainty, that not only do I make an idol of a relationship, but also I've sort of never not done so.

It struck me sometime in the last month that saying homosexuals are born homosexual is a bit like saying tomatoes grow. Well, perhaps my stash of analogies has completely depleted, but my point is this.

The first point of Calvinism is total depravity; the idea that, from our first moments, from the beginning of our lives to the end thereof, in every facet of our being, without exception, we are permeated by evil. (while, at the same time, not being total evil, as Satan is)

So my point? I was born with lust, greed, arrogance, folly through knowledge (oooh, juxty, nice to see you!), and who knows what else. Laziness! I know of a specific example of this, from early on! I was a mere toddslerville in the House of Bertil, and one day Mommy chose that we should start cleaning up. (I know! Why?! Just why?!)

And...I proceeded to calmly, silently walk up to my bed, declaring without hesitation or qualm, upon inquiry, that I had suddenly become sick, and could not participate in the cleaning, however delightful the prospect of sweeping, vacuuming, or organizing. It was a hard choice, my life or cleanliness. What would I choose? Solemnly, with much sadness in my heart, I proceeded up the stairs to obtain rest from the horrifying slings and arrows of a sad three-year-old's existence. It was a hard day for this Noah Bertilson.

That said, I think you might get my point. Maybe. Y'see, everyone's born with their specific moral challenges.

"This is different!" You say.

So you're saying me struggling sexually is...normal? Acceptable? Ordinary?

Oh, that's very nice.

My point is that, under a Calvinistic understanding of sin, DUH, we're born with a propensity to homosexuality if we grow at any point in our lives to struggle with it. It's the same as any other sin in its ability to tempt, challenge, and crush us, but in the same manner, it is as easily crushed and utterly destroyed given faith in Jesus and the grace he gives you.

AND I"M TALKING ABOUT HOMOSEXUALITY IN A POST ABOUT MY OWN STRUGGLES!

So what? I talked. Deal with it.

Ever temporal,


!Noah!