An Orange in the Shower

A few weeks ago my friend, Gregory, enthusiastically shared with me one of his quirky and beloved pastimes: eating an orange in the shower.

His eyes opened wide with child-like exuberance as he explained the process to me. I sort-of giggled inside as he spoke, but I was curious enough to try it out for myself.

On your way to the shower, grab an orange and take it with you. Set it on the side of the tub as you lather, rinse, repeat. When you are nearly done with your shower and the steam has filled the bathroom, the time has come. Enter, Orange!

When you break open the peel, the heat of the shower releases the natural oils in the rind and the entire bathroom is filled with the scent of fresh orange. While rinsing all the suds out of your hair and off of your body, you begin to peel the orange. The peel can be thrown on the floor of the bathtub – making a mess is part of the fun!


When you first bite into the first crescent, the refreshing contrast between your body heat and the cold juice of the orange delights the tongue. In the shower, the flavor and juiciness of the orange is full and satisfying in a way that one cannot compare when eating an orange in any other place. According to Gregory, “A bad orange is a good orange in the shower, and a good orange is phenomenal!”

I have started eating an orange in the shower every few days, and, I must say, it has made showering even better! I think that everyone should try it at least once.

A few things I have learned about oranges in the shower:
1. Small bathrooms with low ceilings (like the one in my apartment) are most hospitable to oranges in the shower because they corral the steam into a close space.

2. Small oranges work best because otherwise one stands in the shower for a bit too long peeling and eating.

3. If one forgets to clean the peel from the shower immediately afterward, the bathroom begins to smell like a compost pile.

4. Stocking oranges in one’s shower seems good in theory, but is bad in practice. A bad orange is a good orange in the shower, but a moldy orange is still disgusting and should not be eaten. Eeeew!

writing and meeting

I went to a party last night at the home of a very talented writer. I was a little hesitant o go to the party, worrying that I would not know very many people. Yesterday morning, I got a call from one of my friends who was throwing the party. He called just to make sure that I'd be there. His kind phone call reined me into their plans.

So I went. The writer was a very pleasant host with a beautifully decorated and inviting home. I was hesitant to talk to him. I think I was a wee bit intimidated by being new to the group and not knowing him well. Also, I was a bit overwhelmed, wanting to get to know him as the person that he is, aside from the writer that many know him to be. He has an unassuming but attractive air about him, and I did not find him intimidating at all once he began to talk to me. In fact, I found it very easy to be myself around him.

When he found me searching for something in his apartment, he quickly came to my assistance and showed me where I could leave my coat and scarf for the evening. Leading me into his bedroom, he pushed a wrinkly pile of clean laundry to one side of his bed and, taking my coat, laid it down on the other side. I liked him more for having a dishevled pile of unfolded laundry in full view. He was in the middle of opening a bottle of wine, but as we walked back to the kitchen, he seemed uninterested in continuing to open it. We walked into the living room and then he began asking me a few questions about myself. Before I knew it, we had entered into a very enjoyable conversation about our Texan backgrounds, our appreciation for the neighborhood he lives in (my favorite one in Portland!), and assorted topics related to church and women and culture and personal vocation.

It wasn't an intense conversation, but the topics weren't light. Admittedly, I was quite taken aback with how easily we conversed and ten minutes must have passed before I became aware that it was the writer I admire that I was conversing with. I found myself really appreciating the man I was getting to know, coincidently also the man behind the artfully juxtaposed words. In a way, I wished that he were two men and that I could befriend only the man I was conversing with, ignoring the well-known writer. I wondered if he sometimes desires this as well. If I were him, I might tire easily of being known as the talented writer and miss being known apart from that part of my life. While we were talking, however, it occurred to me that one of the reasons why the man in front of me was so pleasant in conversation was his proficiency as a writer.

I left the house last night marinating on questions he asked me in our little ten minute aside. They were great questions. It is a fantastic thing to talk about something which you are tired of talking about and because the person with whom you are talking thinks uniquely about things, the tiresome subject now somehow seems intriguing and perplexing and has a new depth to it. Great writers ask great questions. Great question askers are great conversationalists.

And so, I have renewed vigor as a life-long student of writing. I see anew the value in asking unique and daring questions. Why not?

And I have a new friend in my favorite Portland neighborhood. I'm thrilled! Perhaps his skill in asking great questions and telling artfully constructed stories will wear off on me.

I think Solomon was onto something.

I've been reading the One Year Bible. In my case, however, it is more like the "Two Year Bible." I began on January 1, 2006, and I am currently reading the entry for July 22nd. Let us not forget, however, that the tortoise beat out the hare in the old fable by La Fontaine . . . I'm taking inspiration from that little guy. Slow digestion of the Bible has its benefits. :)

I have a special attachment to 1st and 2nd Samuel. When I read them in the early fall, I was overjoyed to return to fascinating narratives of these dynamic men. As of late, I have been reading 2nd Chronicles in the Old Testament and Romans in the New Testament. Until recently, I had never read the two Chronicles. Much to my surprise (and my delight!), they retell the stories of David and Solomon!

Yesterday, I read the passage where David gives the kingdom over to Solomon. Solomon receives a mighty kingdom - an immense amount of land, tremendous riches - and he rules over hundreds of thousands of people. Furthermore, he is the leader of God's chosen people. In the passage, God appears to Solomon. Solomon has pleased God, and he lets Solomon ask anything that he wants and God tells him he will give it to him. (Can you imagine!) Solomon, thankful for all that he has and overwhelmed with the responsibility that he faces, asks God for wisdom that he might rule Israel with godly wisdom.

What struck me when I was reading this passage is that I too am like Solomon. I have been entrusted with a lot. I am overwhelmed with the bountiful blessings God has bestowed upon me. I have been given not only plentiful material possessions, but I am also receiving a great education and have a lot of friends and peers that I encounter each day. Like Solomon, each of us has a sphere of influence. When he took account of all that he had been given, Solomon responded with thankfulness, humility, and a recognition of his shortcomings. He recognized that in his abundance he was in need.

It is true that when we have, we need. I have much, therefore, I am in need of God to humble me and make me wise. It would be a waste for Solomon to have all that he had and to lack wisdom in what to do with his kingdom.

the blog lives!... OR... an update of the last few weeks

Good news: My blog is not dead! I have taken a brief sejour from blogging, yes, but I am back again!

It has been an intense last few weeks. I had a pleasant time in Texas with family. I left Portland on Dec. 11th and returned to Texas for the first time since I moved. It was a great time with family. I feel like I had been holding my breath for the past few weeks in Portland (between moving apartments, writing papers, and some little bitty personal dramas)...and when I got to Texas, I just let my breath out. And slept. And slept. And watched way too much TV. It was luxurious. I had been really going hard and holding things together pretty well, but I just needed to let my guard down a bit and spend some quality time with family. My mother is such a restful presence in my life. She is refreshing to be around and I miss her dearly when I'm in Portland.

Time with my family began with a short trip to Lynchburg, VA. My step sister is a senior at a performing arts high school, where she performed the part of the Sugar Plum Fairy for Tschaikovsky's The Nutcraker. The performances were magical. The town of Lynchburg was less than magical. It bore signs of severe economic depression over the past few decades. You could tell that it was once a thriving railroad stop and small town. In addition, one cannot help but be struck by the very visible signs of a history heavy with racial oppression and division. The class difference between blacks and whites was shockingly rigid. Many of the places we ate at were patronized only by white townsters. All the high profile jobs seemed to be taken by whites whereas all the low-paying service jobs were done by black townsters. Racism is alive and well in America. And not just in Lynchburg. It is easy to stand in my white, upperclass shoes and be oblivious to how prevalent racial oppression is. We have come far, yes. Let us not forget, however, that we have a long, long way to go before we are free of racial oppression.

We returned to Dallas for a bit for some pre-Christmas shopping craziness. Jesus, save us from what has become of your birthday! It is so difficult to remember what exactly we are celebrating amidst all the gift-giving madness. It was a confusing Christmas.

Daniella and I took a brief trip to San Antonio to visit our dad and stepmom. I LOVE being in their house at Christmas. It really feels like home at Christmas time. They have a lovely house, but it truly feels like a home at Christmastime. We were blessed to be able to spend some time there, celebrating a very italian Christmas with my papa.

Returning to Dallas, we could finally relax a bit and not travel for a week or so. I was relieved and finally unpacked a suitcase. :) It felt good.

Some thoughts I've been having:
I think that your twenties are a time to learn about setting boundaries in your relationships. I am constantly learning about boundaries I have put up in my relationships that need to come down, and I also learn constantly about boundaries which I currently do not have which I need to develop so that I don't get walked all over and used.

Kids grow up way too fast. I am one of them.

What ever happened to dating? Is it too much to say "I'd like to take you out" instead of "We should hang out."? Call it mere sematics, but it makes a huge difference and shows a lot of maturity to be able to actually ask someone out. C'mon guys. Be clear. (Do any of you gals know what I'm talking about?)

Portland and Dallas really could not have more different American cultures. I am constantly in culture adjustment going back and forth being in relationships with Portlanders and Texans. Most of the time I love the challenge of jumping back and forth. I also grow more and more thankful for this new home I've made in Portland. It is a fitting place for me. It is a grand town with lovely people. And tall trees. Yessss!

I just finished reading Khaled Hosseini's two bestselling books (1. 'The Kite Runner' and 2. 'A Thousand Splendid Suns'). I have not had so much fun reading in a long time. The novels are heavy, to be sure, but I have been deeply blessed from journeying through the stories of men and women in Afghanistan through the artistically unique point of view Hosseini provides. I highly recommend picking up these books. And, PLEASE read the book before you see the movie. Trust me, you will be better for it.

I think I'm going to go back to Europe in a few months. At last! More on that later.