A Curious Girl: Holy stuff, and Ffyona Campbell

It's been ages and ages since Saturday it seems, so I should have loads to put in.

I still haven't done any work for school, for which I should be duly ashamed.

I went to the library Saturday afternoon, visiting Chris mainly. I've still got to read the Chronicles of Amber, Kim, Northanger Abbey, Persuasion and Nightfall II, so I promised myself I'd only get a few out.

I got out ten.

OK, one of these was for Nickie, and I'd already read it, so that didn't count. Two were Asimovs, a third had his name on, so I got it out anyway. Dr. A hadn't actually made any contribution to the book, I supposed the stories inside were from IASFM.

One was 'Goodnight Mister Tom', which I read at last. An adult(ish) reading kid's books is really no worse than a kid reading adult(ish) books.

Anyway, the book was brilliant, and I recommend it to anyone who likes reading.

Sunday Nickie came 'round and we ate lamb for dinner. I dislike lamb. To make matters worse, David, the minister, started going on about the Lamb upon the throne in church, most of which I didn't understand.

Still, I quite enjoyed the service. I told Chris about my dinner and she found that funny. The worship was good, but I can't remember any of the songs, now, but I felt really blissed out, so it doesn't matter really. The sermon was about the gift of prophecy, but it was more of a seminar - add a few notes and Bible refs to the handouts and you know the service.

It wasn't time wasted, because at least I could ponder on things, which I did, and I realised that understanding is the key to loving your enemies.

Failing that, wisdom's also pretty useful.

David said that if anyone had any words from God they should go to the front and tell the congregation. I thought about telling them about the love thing, and that they should seek understanding, but then he said they were recording all such words, so I flunked out.

I'll never make a preacher.

Thank Jesus.

John W came up and said the Holy Spirit was telling him (he felt, that is; thankfully we haven't got so fanatical that we're declaring ourselves true Apostles of the Lord - not Jesus, not Christ, 'the Lord') that a young person needed to let go of their girl/boyfriend.

Not give up.

Just let go. Set 'em free, you might say.

Chris has been being stressed over Adam and sending him a hundred e-mails a day, and trying to get him to keep his promise of January, when they had been going out about a week, that he would e-mail her daily.

'Cause he's at uni, this is pretty difficult, and besides, it's pretty hard to think up something new every day, especially for a romantic like Adam.

Chris realised it was her, as did I, so we went to the ministry team to get her prayed for.

When I read sentences like the above, I am struck by just how weird I am.

Once I'm a church member, I'm going to ask after the ministry team. Most of them are post-retirement ladies, who are very kind, but it would be cool to have younger people who we could feel understood. I say 'we', but what I'm really saying is that I'm going to volunteer.

I don't know if this *is* such a good idea, because most youth-y type xians (that's sad, I ought to be shot 'Christians', that is) do it at youth events like Regen, but then again, I know there are peeps who can't make it.

I don't know if I'd be good at it, but it's a bit hypocritical to ask others to sign up if I'm going to sit on my backside doing nothing.

But then again, I like to pray for and encourage people, even though I might be hopeless at it, so it would probably be worthwhile.

Trevor and friends are going to dye their hair for Children in Need, and if they get Ł250, Stuart is going to wax his legs.

I admire him.

We discussed it on the way to Afterchurch. I can't really remember what we did at Afterchurch, except eat biscuits and drink Coke, and discuss the sleepover on Thursday, which I am not attending. Only Stuart voted against the Tigger Movie, so they'll be watching that, so I'm glad I'm not going :-)

I love Winnie the Pooh, but I don't much like the way Disney commercialized it, so I'm a pure A.A. Milne fan through and through.

Monday I mooched about the house until I left to meet Elaine. I walked to the cinema, whcih is roughly an hour and a half trek, in fact, slightly less as I stopped to wander around the Guildhall Museum in Rochester because it's free and though I love Rochester and admire every brick, I wanted a change in the scenery.

I quite liked the Guildhall museum, especially the Hulks, and the Dutch raid bit. The Hulks reminded me of Dickens, the Dutch raid of Year 6, and Samuel Pepys' record of it was rather amusing.

He was in such a state of panic, and I think all the Dutch did was nick a few ships.

I got to the cinema early, and although I'd spent the day in an excellent mood, I got bored waiting for Elaine.

She arrived dead on time as usual.

Dinosaur wasn't bad, but it wasn't good either.

The animation and music were excellent but the plot was strangely reminiscent of 'Land before Time'.

And what did those damned Lemurs *eat*?

If I'd been about half my age, I think I would have enjoyed it more, but I get cynical. (And I still would have been worrying about those stupid monkeys!)

Today Mum and I went out to Bluewater with Nickie, bought more clothes, had dinner, came home.

Mum bought 'Guinness World Records 2001', and apparently Ffyona Campbell is the woman who has walked the biggest distance, but I think I could beat that, however I might miss out all the bad places to walk in.

Then again, if I do that I'll run out of places.

Men have beaten Ffyona, but she still gets her place in the Guinness book of records, so it's worth beating.

It also doesn't involve having muscles of steel or a mega-resilient skull, neither of which I own. I don't really care to beat the 'most children' record either.

I am such a weirdo.

Still, never mind. At least I'm unique.

I've just looked back at that woman's name, and it looks like someone's stammered it. And spelt it wrongly.

Oh well, better go,

Helen

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