Saturday, April 30, 2011

Prince Street

Take the N downtown.

Get off at Prince Street.

Exit Near Intersection of Broadway & Prince St.

Start going South East on Prince St.

Turn Right onto Elizabeth St.

Arrive at 210 Elizabeth St.

I was on my way to Public Restaurant http://public-nyc.com/ to meet a businessman for dinner - not for business reasons, but rather because we had hit it off a couple of weekends ago and he suggested that we meet up again.

So we convened in Soho for an elegant dinner followed by a taxi cab ride to a nearby rooftop lounge called Jimmy's http://www.jimmysoho.com/.  He (my date) had stopped by Jimmy's earlier in the day to secure our entrance to this exclusive venue.  He successfully got us on "the list" and so upon our arrival we were immediately welcomed into the building and taken up to the eighteenth floor.

As we stepped off the elevator we were greeted with astonishing views of the city.  We partook in drinks and conversation, until the chill of the evening air prompted my date to suggest that we head to our final destination.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Wrong Guy

The wrong guy said it, but even so, I'll take it. 

Because it's nice to know you're missed.

It's nice to know that someone somehow values you enough to say those words.

I can't say I miss him.  But I did think of him last week. 

I hope that counts for something. 

The fact of the matter is, I don't know him well enough to miss him, but I did appreciate some of our conversations that we had around this time a year ago.  We could get on the phone and pass time like it was nothing. 

Kind of like the one guy that I do miss, who I haven't talked to on the phone in what seems like ages.  Although when he and I get on the phone, it seems like we only half finish every story, because our mutual, tangential ADD tendencies carry our conversations anywhere and everywhere - even to Meijers, Chinese food, and ultimate frisbee.

But one of our more memorable phone conversations was the time when he was telling me about his Grandma who had passed away.  He shared with me that his Grandma was a great woman of faith.  He went on and on explaining his adoration for this woman who had left a spiritual imprint and legacy on his life and on his entire family. 

He told me, "I feel like people like my Grandma never really die.  It's more like God reaches out his hand and ushers them into his presence.  It's more of a peaceful step, rather than a death." 

I never had the opportunity to meet his Grandma, but listening to him talk about her made me want to be like her some day.  She is missed, that I am certain, but even so, her presence remains because of the life of faith that she lived.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Good Friday

It's Good Friday, but rather than reflecting on Jesus' death, I've been reflecting on Gian Paul (pronounced J-on Paul) and Francois and the Young Life/Spring Hill skit called Light and Fluffy.

I know, it's probably somewhat sacrilegious for me to devote more energy pondering a camp skit rather than Jesus' death on the cross.  However, I'll argue that the two are intertwined, because if there was no Good Friday, there would be no Young Life or Spring Hill or a ridiculous camp skit called Light and Fluffy.

(To be continued...)

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Forget You

If only I could...

Friday, April 15, 2011

Marshall Stack

Tonight I was told that my life is far more interesting than General Hospital.  I was told this over fondue at my friend Mellie's studio apartment in the Lower East Side, just prior to making our way to a nearby pub.

Marshall Stack
66 Rivington St # A
New York, NY 10002

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Detective

Yesterday morning I found myself in a vehicle with a detective, speed racing through the city with the car's lights and sirens paving our way through traffic.  We took over the bus lane, and sped through red lights, causing entire avenues of traffic to stop - just for us - in our race back to...

Well, let's just be honest here... he was just dropping me back off at my apartment.  But it certainly made for an adventursome morning drive.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Memo

Dear New York City,

In breathing in the air tonight, it appears that there has been some confusion.   To clarify, today is 4.12, not 4.20.  Now I understand that hannukah is celebrated for 8 days, but the 8 day duration of hannukah does not apply to 4.20.  Although some of the students I work with may appreciate such an extension, the parents of prospective students I work with do not.

In the future, please take your pre 4.20 celebration activity to Amsterdam where it is 4.20, 365 days a year.

Thanks,
Katrina

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Self-Censored

Self-Censored Facebook Status

"although i am german, i will never be a systematic theologian; however, i will gladly embrace my german heritage by other means... such as by drinking a cold beer on a saturday night..."

Saturday, April 9, 2011

The Plaza Hotel

I've been told (and acknowledge) that I'm random - too a fault.

However, sometimes being random is great, because even I don't where I'll end up on any given day.
For instance, this evening.  I watched a dance performance at ___________

After the performance...



http://www.theplaza.com/

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Waitlisted

Last Friday I was thrilled to get into an online class that I had been wait listed to get in.

And then I listened to the first lecture and understood immediately why so many people had dropped out of the class, enabling me to get in.

I immediately regretted my acceptance into the class, but there was nothing I could do - I was screwed.  I had to take the class because Friday was also the absolute last day to register for classes - as well as the last day to drop the less than desirable ones without any financial consequence. 

So I'm stuck listening to this professor all semester who I can hardly understand because his accent is so thick.  I don't want to make this out to be or sound racist.  I have plenty of friends and acquaintances from all around the world - some with fabulous accents, that can, at times, be challenging to understand.  However, I don't pay money to listen them talk, nor do they make take exams on what they say.

You may think I'm exaggerating.  I promise.  I'm not.

In fact, a King's student worker dropped by my cubicle this evening as I was listening to yet another miserable lecture.

She came to inquire, "What language is that in?"

I placed the lecture on pause and explained, "It's English - with a really heavy accent."

"Really?  I thought you were listening to a lecture in Estonian or something.  I was like wow - Katrina must be so smart."

Shoot.  Maybe I should have played it off... it's always good to have the students you work with think you're smart...

I haven't told my dad the news yet, but I know he'll get a kick out of it - and then he'll say something about how he always requests a different doctor when he gets one that he can't understand.

My dad's a great man - and funny.

Last time I was wait listed for a class, and asked my dad to pray that I'd get in, he was thoroughly confused.  Rather than wait listed, he thought I was trying to get into a weightlifting class.  He couldn't understand first off, why I would want to take a weightlifting class, and secondly, why in the world would Fuller Theological Seminary be offering such a class.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

33rd Street

"I can’t believe you’re doing this!”  I heard the words through sobbing cries, but I didn’t know where the voice was coming from.  I took a few more steps and turned to see a man and a woman and tucked away on a less than private cement stairwell on 33rd Street, not too far from Madison Square Garden.

The woman continued on through her tears, “I gave up EVERYTHING to come here to be with you…”

She carried on, distraught, while he sat with a numb look on his face, displaying no emotion at all.  He already knew he was an a** hole (or so that is my interpretation), so he took the beating by his now ex-girlfriend, or perhaps ex-fiancĂ© without much response.

Then again, I didn’t linger to hear any more of their break up conversation, so I can’t say for certain whether or not he offered a rebuttal.  Instead, I maintained my pace and continued down 33rd Street with my eyes fixed on the Empire State Building. 

I considered for a moment that maybe I should go back, and see if she wanted to talk or go for coffee or drinks later on.  But the timing seemed terrible, and I’m thinking I would have creeped her out, like the man who creeped me out at the bus stop my freshmen year of college – the one who passed by the bus stop several times and then finally came up to me,  handing me a small piece of paper.  He explained, “I couldn’t help but notice you – I would love to take out for coffee some time.  Here’s my number.”  I think he was 27 – I was 18.

But I felt bad for this woman who was probably in her mid-30s.  I couldn’t imagine moving to a city like New York for someone else and for someone else’s dreams - only to have that someone say, “See ya later.”

With the Empire State Building in view it was easy for me to remember why God brought me here – to be a part of what he is doing in and through the lives of college students at The King’s College. 

I pondered the woman’s words, and the reality that I gave up EVERYTHING to be here too, but I came because of God – because I trust him.  But what is different, is that I know He’ll never say, “See ya later.”  I’m so thankful that God has got my back no matter what happens or where I go in life. 

Saturday, April 2, 2011