Around Town: Easter Weekend (2/2)

Donuts.  Look yummy.  Taste less.  Oh well.

Part 1

Where did I leave off?  Right.  Sunday.  So, while the farmer's market may not be a tradition, Easter Sunday Resurrection Rolls most certainly are.  Basically they are sugar dough wrapped in marshmallows and when they bake the marshmallow melts leaving the dough hollow on the inside.  Yummy, but almost too sweet if such a thing exists.  Tradition I will carry on to infinity?  I think yes.  Just as soon as I lean how to make them...

Anyway, church this year was a combined service at Davies Symphony Hall. <dork> It was amazing! I always hate that they don't let you sing in concerts, but since this was church I could sing all I wanted.  Sweet.  We sat in orchestra which was indescribably cool other than that I was taking a picture before we started and then a man sat directly in front of me.  </dork>

I am purposely not talking about the camera debacle, but there was one, and these will be the last pictures from this camera for a while.  </idontwanttotalkaboutit>

After church we went home to change clothes and then went to go see/participate in Bring Your Own Big Wheel.  Basically, it's a "race" down one of the steeper hill in the city that includes around seven hairpin turns.  I went down on a tiny plastic motorcycle which was awesome, but did not have a way to steer.  Let's just say I didn't win in the traditional sense.  Or in any sense really.  There's a reason there are no pictures of me in the race.

Home.  Dinner of yummy food that I appreciate more and more the longer I have to feed myself.  The rest of the day was uneventful which was actually probably not good considering that I had (have) so much work to do.  It's beginning to be time for mantras and all-nighters.  I cannot even describe how much I'm not looking forward to that part.

In unrelated news I am still somewhat stunned that I had to break this up in to two posts.  I probably didn't HAVE to, but on some level I'm kind of impressed with myself for being able to eek this out for content... I mean.  I could have...  It was...  I talk too much.

By the way: church was at Davies Symphony Hall.

No big deal.

Sister Emma's pic: Mom at BYOBW.

Sister Emma pic: Me and my not very big wheel.

Sister Emma pic: Trying to get through the BYOBW crowd.

Around Town: Easter Weekend (1/2)

San Francisco airport.

So, in all the craziness that was the past few weeks I completely forgot to share pictures of going home for Easter.  It was absolutely lovely.  I got to see some of my favorite people and do some of my favorite things.  Just enough to tide me over until summer... granted, now "summer" is in two weeks, but still.

I flew in on Thursday night after a crazy day full of Freq Out rehearsals and worrying about getting to the airport.  Thank goodness I got there early because I then found out that my gold status expired last month, so I'm back to being a regular old passenger.  Poo.  I did get to use my backpack for this trip though.  Even if it was probably a bit of overkill.  It's good to use to practice with.

Friday I went to yoga class with my mom.  It was... well, it wasn't the first time I'd done yoga, but I think the last one was a fluke, so this one was better.  Granted I was not at all prepared for it clothing-wise.  Which doesn't explain how I was completely prepared gear-wise for an impromptu climbing session with some youth group friends after the Good Friday Tenebrae service (which was inexplicably held at noon).  Just go with it.

To say that the Saturday morning farmers market is a family tradition might be a bit of a stretch, but it is by far my favorite Saturday breakfast and everyone in my family knows it.  So usually, when I'm there for breakfast they indulge me and we go for a farmer's market breakfast.  Not that they hate it, but I get the sense that when I'm not around they typically go to sit down restaurants with waiters instead of pigeons to take away the leftover food.  Yeah.

In the afternoon I went out to lunch with Trevor & Co. in the sunset.  Just the beginning of the long list of people I miss terribly when I'm away.  We then trekked out to Stonestown for browsing and wandering, waiting far too long for a bus.  Ahh Muni, predictably unpredictable.

Of course then there was Sunday... but this post is getting quite long, so I'll stop here and make this part one of two.  Who knew I was going to have so much to say about a weekend.

Waiting to be picked up.

Pretty lights

Dad at the Farmer's Market.

Emma, before her wanting to kill me stage.

Trevor with the bright red hair.

Taking a picture of myself in the mirror -- lent is over so I can use mirrors again.

At The End of The Day

I have been struggling with what to say all day.  How to say it.  Because I cannot go through Easter without at least saying, even to the internet, "He is Risen," and waiting for "He is Risen, Indeed."  But how to broach the subject.  I'm teetering on the edge of talking too much about my faith on my blog.  An edge that some would argue doesn't exist.  Because it's my blog and I can talk about what I want to talk about and if they don't like it they can leave.

But I don't want people to leave.  I know that I have very few followers and I'm accepting of that.  I know that blogging for me is more of a personal pursuit than a professional one right now, but I want to be able to cross that bridge someday and I don't want a reputation of forcing religion on people when that transition happens.  I don't force anyone to listen to me, but at the same time I cannot ignore a huge part of who I am because it's inconvenient for my online persona.

Today I went to church.  This is nothing new for me.  I go to church every week.  But today was special.  Because today was a celebration of what God has done for us in sending His Son.  It's a question of life or death that we get to choose to be either all-encompassing or non-existent.  There is no in-between however much society wants there to be one.

The passage that the sermon I heard this morning was based on (Mark 16:1-8) ends with Mary, Mary and Salome -- a group of women who were followers of Jesus -- fleeing the empty tomb in fear and not telling anyone about what happened because they were afraid.  The man they saw who told them Jesus had risen gave them direct orders to tell everyone, but they were so afraid they said nothing.  I don't want to be that.  I am confident in my God and my faith, but at the end of the day I am still afraid to speak out.