Brillient but Bashfull Bizzarities of Beck

A Cracker of a day - but what's that smell?

Here�s a story that cracked my dad and I up!

A man who unknowingly built up a
40,000-volt charge of static electricity
in his clothes as he walked left a trail
of scorched carpet and molten plastic
in his wake and forced firefighters to
evacuate a building.
Frank Clewer, who was wearing a
woolen shirt and a synthetic jacket,
ignited the carpet when he walked into
a building in the Victorian country town
of Warrnambool on Thursday.
�It sounded almost like a fir-cracker,�
Mr. Clewer said.
�Within about five minutes the carpet
began to erupt.�
Employees smelt something burning and
phoned the firefighters, who evacuated
the building.
�There were several scorch marks in the
carpet and we could hear a cracking noise
- a bit like a whip � both inside and outside
the building,� said Henry Barton, a fire
brigade official.
Fire fighters cut electricity to the building,
suspecting there had been a power surge.
Mr Clewer, who had left the building
discovered that he had scorched the plastic
on the floor of his car. He returned to seek
the help of the fire fighters.
�We tested his clothes with a static electricity
meter and measured a current 40,000 volts,
which is one step shy of spontaneous
combustion,� Mr Barton said. �I�ve been fire
fighting for over 35 years and I�ve never come
across anything like this.�
The firefighters took Mr Clewers jacket to the
fire station where it continued to give off a
strong electrical current.
David Gosden, a lecturer in electrical engineering
at Sydney university, said that for a static
electricity charge to ignite a carpet, the conditions
had to be perfect.
�Static electricity is a similar mechanism to
lightning, where you have clouds rubbing
together and then a spark generated by very
dry air above them,� he said. It was very
unusual for static electricity to reach 40,000 volts.

I Had A Bad Day!

This episode in my life is dedicated to those who like to laugh at other people�s misfortunes.
Before I start lets get some background info� just so this story will have depth and the level of empathy will be considerably higher in my favor.
Over the last few months I�ve been working rather hard and plugging away at many of the different areas in my life. Having started two new jobs in the last term, finished the production of Love Is, fighting the never ending battle of grot, grim, germs and filth that reside in my house, trying to remove the dam of emotions that is blocking my supposed to be healthy emotional river, falling prey to an unknown disease that has infiltrated my body and blood stream, losing severely the battle of man power v. washing as well as losing Thomas to cancer only on Sunday have all contributed to a general feeling of lethargy, lost, purposeless, monotonal, flattened mood, energy less, exhaustion and yes, just feelings of being somewhat lost.

So all of the above have built up over the last few weeks without me really realizing it. On Friday my friend very wisely said to me that I should find some time for myself this week. So I thought to myself, �Yes. That is a grand idea.� I met with my family to work out when I could get the car to be able to escape. I was hoping for a day so I could go up the central coast and welcome spring, but the car could only be spared for an afternoon so I grabbed the opportunity and ran with it.

This brings us now to this morning and the beginning of our episode.

My adventure started at 12. My plan was to go to Balmoral, then head over to neutral bay for a massage before making my way to Chatswood where I would purchase a pair of pants and top. Indeed I headed down to Balmoral. I arrived safely and parked the boat (van) before going to a local caf�. Once there I chose to have a pineapple juice to go. I waited a moment, thought to myself, �how lovely it is today. I�m as free as a bird and I get to have a yummy juice.� I looked over the counter and thought again, �how lovely, they�re juicing it fresh.� I get my juice and walk outside. After maneuvering around the chairs and tables with extreme caution as not to trip and thus ruin my juice, I brought the straw to my mouth where I sucked in the yellow, orange, slightly pink looking liquid. I held it there� paused� reluctantly swallowed�(wasn�t going to spit it out in the middle of Mosman.)� Gracefully walked past the bin� pulled a rotten face to match the unripe juice� and dropped the cup silently into the bin. One swift, purposeful movement. It took no more the 8 steps to reach the next caf� where, still frustrated about wasting $4 on something that belongs in the trash, I bought a safe cappuccino.

I found a spot along the beach to sit and stare thoughtfully out to the ocean. It was beautiful and I was happy to be there, but the only meaningful thought running through my mind was how I meant to go back to the car because it�s cold and windy, and while that�s lovely if you have a parker or even a sweatshirt� I had neither. With half an hour to go before I was due at �Destiny massage,� I decided to stick out the cold and finish my coffee. Again, I brought the cup to my mouth, this time with the intent of sucking in the froth. Not only did the light sweet milk fill my mouth but so did the scolding coffee.

What I struggle to work out is that it always seems to take a couple of seconds for your brain to realize the severity of the high temperature, another second to toss up the spit out v. swallow strategy, then the next two or three days living with the constant reminder of your pledge to never touch a drink that hasn�t either come from the tap or the fridge.

At the right time I left Balmoral and head up to Neutral Bay. After struggling for 10mins to find a park in the immediate vicinity I opted for paid parking a block away. I parked, locked and left the car. I went to the parking meter, paid for my number 9 car park. Not only did I pay for my hour, I also added an extra 12 mins on just incase I ran a little late or the parking inspector (who has a thing for booking cars along that street) comes just after the meter runs out. Satisfied I had met all the law requirements I confidently left my boat and went in to get my, massage. It was amazing. I felt gooey everywhere. It cost me $75, which is a little expensive but expected for the area.

An hour later I walked out very soft, relaxed, a little oily and smelling great! As I rounded the corner to where I had parked, I saw I white piece of paper under my wind-screen-wipers. As I got closer I thought it was just a flier because there was absolutely no way I got a ticket. It was just impossible because I had paid for the extra 12 minutes. I reached out and pulled the PARKING TICKET!!! from the windshield. I read it. Re-read it. Thought. Read it again. Possibly scratch my head as that it was people seem to do when they think. Walked over to the meter and pressed nine. Sure enough it still had 6:22 left till it expired. As I walked back to the car I looked at the ground. On top of my nine there was a big yellow line. Next to it there was something written. I walk over and get down on the ground� SIX, IT�S A SIX! I ran to the number nine. It said nine with a line as well. The car in nine was sitting there looking rather smug. I wanted to break it but I decided that while a can afford the $75 fine, there would be no way I would ever be able to afford a massage again if I broke the number nine car. Not only that but if I did choose to break and run then I would wreck all the effects of my massage. I calmly got into my car and drove away. So not only did I get fined, I also couldn�t go shopping. That $75 was for my day. It was for me. I had set it aside so I could spoil myself, so that I could indulge. But not anymore.

My day. The day I had given me, really flopped. So now I sit here, not too fussed, just disappointed that I couldn�t do a day or even just 3 hours by myself.

Funnily enough� as I was stopped by the spit bridge I heard myself singing, �how great is our god!� the world will see how great is our God!�

And as I walked into my house I was reminded of my funny friend James who told me last night, �whenever trouble comes your way, let it be an opportunity for joy.�

So here I am, celebrating with you� that I had a bad day!

Ping?

What's a ping?
mine has gambing all over it and texas hold'em rules...
don't make sense!

Sunday

Yesturday was a good day. I woke at 10 till I was meant to be at church, then I jumped out of bed after coming to the resolution that I really should get out and fulfill my responsibilities because if I don�t then the world will end and the grade 2-3 kids church class will go with out finding out what happened to David after he found out from Jonathon that Saul was still on the war path and walked to chop of his head. I couldn�t bear to leave them in the lurch so to speak. I sang b/v�s with Kate and thought it was a waste of time as my ears and nose and other breathing points were all blocked and I couldn�t pitch a note to save a drunken sailor.
I enjoyed doing drama with the Ernie senior drama team. It was pumpkin hour meets 3:30. I think they did a great job! Only one or two more to go. I loved the 6:30 service. God was on top of it all. I felt more like a spectator then a participant but that�s ok. I�m getting used to it. God�s guiding me to see things from a new perspective. It�s a challenge I love.

Well I�d better fly to after school care. We�re hiring if anyone�s interested.

Growing up

I met with my mentor today. She is so insightful and it is amazing the way God has brought us together. She went through many of the things that I�m going through at the moment when she was my age. I love the fact that the older generation claim to and do understand what it�s like to be 18. I forget that they�ve been there.
I used to hate it how people would say to me, �I know, I completely understand. I�ve been there.� Or even worse, �you�ll grow out of it.� It�s like, �well what if I don�t want to grown out of it? What if I enjoy doing what I�m doing and being who I am?�
It�s like when I was in primary school and now I�m teaching these primary schoolers. They come and talk to me about their issues in their 8 year old lives that seem extremely trivial but I know that when I was 8 these things were more important then anything else in the world. In fact I could think of what could have been more important.
So now when my mentor tells me she understands I believe her because I know she�s had these trials and experiences. More then that she�s come through them even more empowered and gracious then she was when she walked into it.
I find that really encouraging. I know I�ll screw up something massive and I know that�s inevitable but I also know it�s ok and that this life (as Stephen kindly reminded me yesterday) is only temporary. We have much greater things to look forward to and much more exciting times ahead. (I feel like I should be writing those inspirational notes that go in women�s mental health like journals where they can turn a new page and read that they are in fact normal and that being abnormal is a completely normal thing.)

I�ve just realized that I purposefully chose to use short words when I write purely because I don�t know how to spell the longer ones. Now that�s what I call sad!

Creative juices

It�s 1030 and ive had a horrible morning. I�ll think more about it later. It�s too heavy laden with much emotional trauma to try and process now.

I�m really struggling to be creative today, and Wednesday for that matter. I think I�ve been squeezed of all creative juices and they�re sitting in a jug in the fridge marked �Becks creative juices. Use in excess as you please.� What�s also frustrating is that they disappear or give the illusion of being empty when I go searching for a top up.

The Big Bus Tour.

Well day one of the bus tour is now over. I flew into Brisbane at 9am yesterday and met Helen at the airport. From there we drove to COC where I met a guy called Nathan. He heads up the bus tour and is an assistant to Paul Geerling (I think) and we had coffee. We had a really amazing conversation about men and women and how men are called to love their husbands and women are called to respect their husbands. For one of the first times in my life I really genuinely agreed with what he was saying. I think I have issues with the roles of men and women because I don�t think I�ve worked then out to my own standards yet. I haven�t found what I believe they are and for the first time I didn�t challenge the view that was put before me. Must tell someone about it before I forget otherwise It will disappear from my memory bank. We then drove to a town called Toowoomba. It wasn�t half the hole I thought it would be. In fact it was up on a hill and freezing cold. Did not anticipate any change in temperature, climate or weather when I packed on Friday. I met the Irwin�s at Toowoomba and we set up our table full of Alpha stuff. I must say we�re selling rather funky explore tee-shirts. Then we flew right into the seminars. It was so encouraging. We had everyone bar two people come to our seminar. In the second one we had the last two who hadn�t come to the first one. So encouraging. In terms of the actually running of the seminars� it all went really smoothly. We have realised the things we left out and all the things we need to emphasize more then we are. It was also a day that opened our eyes to our different roles in the team and how we are all going to go working together.

Having said all that, I have had such a ball! I feel so passionate about the ministry that is taking place here. This opportunity just blows my mind. The idea of 300 youth worshiping their maker and encouraging their friends to follow Christ is just so exciting. The blessing I feel in being able to be a part of this is somewhat overwhelming. What is also somewhat overwhelming is the love I have of teaching and speaking. I love people, I love the diversity and I love being able to meet people on an intimate level. I love getting to know them and find out where they are at and to learn from them.
Today I have been staying at the Mays place. I feel so loved and so at home here. They have such a love for each other and I feel so encouraged. I feel so touch being here and blessed so much by their hospitality. They have just welcomed me into their home and it has made such a difference to me.

Well, tomorrow is Harvey Bay. It�s meant to be a big one. 50 people or something like that per seminar. I would love prayer for:

-unity amongst the whole team (bands, speakers, leaders, tech guys.)
-deep and restful sleep particularly for Gavin who is driving, sally, jess and myself who are speaking.
-pray that God anoints us with eyes to see those who are searching for him.
-that we will be humbled by this experience as opposed to getting arrogant through the success of the tour.
-the hearts of those attending the youth rallies and seminars will be being prepared to receive and learn. That the barriers will be broken and the desire to know about God will be abundant.
-general smoothness of the seminar itself�
- and I know this will sound a little strange, but pray for awareness of meal times. Yeaturday we really didn�t eat and we suffered in concentration and patience was pushed as well as energy levels just being low.

I have just got home at the end of a rather long but slowly eventful day and have realised that i have my undies on backwards. I feel a little silly because i have been wondering why they don't quite fit the way they usually do. They were gathering at the front and wedgying at the back. To make it worse i seem to have done it twice in the same day. I relaxed in a long bath at midday and yet i find myself at 10 o'clock with the same problem i was having at nine. I wonder if there are a sort of undies-not boxers-that are made to remove this problem from day to day life. If not then i think i will invent multi-directional-underpants. A great addition to the world i say.

I have a question. Not a very interesting one, but a question all the same. Firstly... why do I get blisters? Secondly when I do get a blister why do I feel a compulsion to pop it? And thirdly why does this compulsion apply to scabs as well? am i alone in this or does the rest of the normal population feel the urge to pick and flick as i do. It's all a little gross actually.

acheivement of the day!
i would like to just qietly announce that today i cleaned my first tiolet. the cleaners here seem to allways do it, so i have had no need. but last night i had about 10 year 9 boys boot me out of my living quarters so that they could do guy stuff, which might i add left the tiolet in a rather gross state. so i left the tiolet for half a day thinking that maybe it might just miraculously disappear. unfortunetly i came back to it and it hadn't seemed to have taken my very un-subtle hint thus remaining in the vicinity of my bathroom. i got so grossed out when i realised that yes indeed i was going to have to clean this monster of a mess. so i investigated the cleaning utensils and fluids. i couldn't find anything that read, "cleans tiolet by itself. no need for intervention." i felt very disheartened and i felt like i was going to do the worst thing i would ever have to do in my life. i can do diappers fine, but this stuff has been sitting there rotting for half a day. i must admitt, i did purposely aviod going out there. i did a good job at it. i encouraged other people to go out there so that when they saw the mess then maybe thy would know what to do with it and do it. alas, no. so i found the brush thingy. i held it. i looked at the brush, then back at the tiolet and i decided that if i put the brush in the tiolet then i would have two problems not just one. not only would the tiolet be gross but so would the brush. i would then need a brush to clean the brush. so i did the sensible thing and i thought about it for a moment. i considered stuffing the tiolet with tiolet paper then putting the brush onto of the tiolet paper and just swishing it all around a bit then just flush it all away. this is where i had a brainwave. if i did this then i would get smushy, dirty, smelly, tiolet paper all over the brush and i would be stuck with the same problem i had in the first place. two problems not one. i thin went on a further investigation and found a packet of biodegratable wet ones. aha i thought. these will do the trick. so i laid one out into the bowl and i placed the brush on top of the wet one, which was now much wetter, and whilst standing as far away from the bowl as possible, i proceeded to vigerously touch the brush to the bowl with a scrubbing like motion. i figured that the cleaning chemicals on the wet one, while diluted would have a similar effect as it would had i managed to find some bleach stuff. i considered using washing up detergent, or even some clothes cleaning blue soapy stuff that you out into the washing machine but i decided that the possibility of it all foaming upand become a scarry scarry bubling mess was most likely and so not a good idea. anyway, i after some shaking of the brush i was able to detach the still in-one-piece wet one and flush the tiolet. i know that while the tiolet looked clean, it was proably housing some very sniggeringly like germs, but hey, it looked clean. i figured the cleaner will do it when she comes. i just have to be able to be in the room with the tiolet. that's all. i put the brush back again hoping that i would never have to approach the back of that cupboard again, and closed the doors. and there you have it. i have now officially cleaned my first tiolet.

Hello Australia! How�re ya�ll going? (seeings as matt has such a strong objection to the spoken ya�ll I�ll just write it.) man it�s different here. Everything is back wards and frackta-bunt� dad�s joke. My apologies. I don�t really know what to write. In fact believe it or not I had forgotten I had a blog. I don�t know what to say. I have lots of things running through my head but if I blog them then I wont log them, or in other words my journal will remain empty. It seems that it�s one or the other. Otherwise I�m just writing the same thing twice and that�s just not worth my time.

hmmm... i didn't realise i was still on the blogfeed. if i had known that i don't think i would have posted my last post. oh well. what can you do?

it's official... i'm going to get to go to an ice hockey game in america... woohoo!

well i think that was just about one of the hardest things i have had to do in a long time. it's so hard to say goodbye to your best friend! i feel so carried by God and have complete devoted faith that he will work through these new adventures that matt and i are both going on and we will be able to know Him in new ways because of it. having said that: saying goodbye's a bitch and i really didn't like doing it. i can't wait until the day i'm at the other end of this adventure and walking through the arrivals lounge. that day will be a blessing.

it's funny. at the time i felt really happy for matt to be leaving. i was so excited that he has this opportunity to go to uganda. i will be praying for him pretty much most of the time... :) but once i got home i was absolutly shattered. it was one of those times where you could only describe it as heart wrenching sobs. i was so devistated and i felt such a sence of loss. i felt like i was grieving. absolutly gutted beyond beleif. i just sat there thinking in a confused state. "what has just happened. i cannot beleive i just had to say goodbye to one of the most precious people in my life. what have i done?"

i've just settled down enough to eat dinner but my stomach is still churning.

when we were sitting at the airport i had a permanent lump in my throat and i found it really hard to talk to anyone.

i'm feeling very fragile and vaunrable. exposed to the world. it would only take a little breeze and i think i would blow right over completely. i think i would liek to just curl up in my bed and sleep it out for a while. otherwise i'm afraid that another bout of tears is near approaching and i will look like crap tommorrow if i chose to stay awake and deal with these emotions tonight.

Merry Christmas all!

i received quite the shock last night at the 11 o'clock service! helen and i were able to hug. it's strange that i have never been able to hug her when she is such a part of my life... so it's officail... i hugged helen. it's now ok for me to go into a room with any of the leaders and shut the door. i can also get lifts from anyone. i find it interesting that on one side of twelve this would never be allowable, whereas once the clock ticks over all is permitted.

i think i like being 18!

Man, it�s been a long time since I last posted. But that�s ok. I don�t mind.

I find it most amusing that out of all the humans in the world I�m the one that�s meant to know myself and my characteristics better then anyone� yet when I try to keep that in mind I still find myself getting completely baffled and tied in knots over my own thinking system.

I get positively lost and tongue tied when I try to verbalize what�s going on in the top paddock. It�s like the sheep are getting rowdy and have started trying to jump over the fence but miss by a mile and crash into my head.

How�s that for an analogy!

You know, I was kind of hoping that my last days of being 17 and not an �adult� so to speak would be a reflection of how clear headed I am and how 18 is an appropriate age for me� well that goes out the window in less then a second.

Maybe this constant state of confusion and cerfuffle is or has become a permanent fixture? Hmmm� how unfortunate.

Oh� and I absolutely can�t wait to go to America!!!!