Thursday, July 28, 2011


Nearly a week ago a friend that I've known since pre-school got married in my birth town of Owosso, Michgan.  I call it my birth town rather than my hometown, because I was only six years old when my parents, siblings, and I moved out of the parsonage.

Parsonage is a fancy name for a house owned by a church that the Pastor and his family get to live in for free.

We scored BIG on our parsonage.  Rather than being a the standard humble abode, we lived in a grand 4 bedroom Victorian Home that was featured each year on the city's tour of homes.

The parsonage was located across the street from the church where my Dad served as a Pastor for 7 years.   7, according to the Bible, is a number that symbolizes completion, so the number of years my Dad spent at that church might seem appropriate; however, his time ended there with a forced signature of resignation. 

Half the church left when we did, and rather than feeling complete and whole about our 7 years in Owosso, we were left broken.

Even still, for some reason, I had in my mind, that someday I would return to Owosso, and return to that same church to state my wedding vows. 

So a few years ago, when "he" told me over the phone that aside from Spring Hill, there's another place to him that is super special... and it's this town in small town in Michigan called Owosso.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Road Trip

Los Angeles

Las Vegas


Des Moines


Thursday, July 14, 2011

Final Days

Sooooooo is it wrong to pray, "Dear God, please help me find a trashy, black dress for Jaimie's bachelorette party tomorrow"?  "Quickly... and one that's not too pricey... "?

20 minutes & 15 dollars later - prayer answered at Banana Republic...

That was today.

Yesterday God blessed me with sweet surf at the south end of Huntington Beach, and then returning home to a house full of fabulous roommates - all back in town for Jaimie and Lee's wedding.

I'm not ready to leave...

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Urth Caffe

Sunday nights after church I often find myself eating a late night meal with friends, or in some instances - as was the case last week - complete strangers.

The downtown location -
451 South Hewitt Street, on Hewitt and 5th, in the Arts District of Downtown Los Angeles.
That was last week.

Tonight we ventured to LA Cafe located on Spring Street, between 6th and 7th.

I couldn't find parking nearby so I drove several blocks away until I found a metered spot (free on Sunday nights!) - right beside the sidewalk where one man was sleeping in a cardboard box and several others were setting up tents for the night.

I debated back and forth as to whether or not to drive on to another location, or to just suck it up and pay the $10 to park in a lot closer to the restuarant.

After some deliberation, I got out and quickly started towards the restaruant, doing my best to not to gag on the smell of urine that pervaded the streets leading up to Spring Street.

Two weeks ago: The Yardhouse at LA Live Staples Center
Three weeks ago: A Sushi spot in Little Tokyo