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Alright, so here we go again

Its been awhile but now it seems as though I have wandered back, driven by how boring MN is. Minnesota! What?


Ok, lets step back a bit. I graduated from Calvin in August ’09. They tried to Dutch me (can we make that a thing? I like it so much better than “gyp”) into giving them more money, even though all signs pointed towards me having the all clear to graduate. This ended when Mr Munchy threatened the registrar with various things. Moral of the story, I love my dad, who has some shady ass connections.

That January the Boy Who Makes Me Food and I got engaged. Then in February I left to serve a ten month term of service in Americorps NCCC on the East Coast.

I got strangled, fell in love with farming, dealt with a psycho on my team, beat back depression and graduated in November. I will never wear grey and khakis again.

In January the Boy Who Makes Me Food and I got married, making him Mr Kaydon Who Makes Food.We moved to Minnesota so Mr Kaydon could finish school. Calvin tried the same tactics with him, but since he has no shady connections he decided to transfer to St Cloud State instead.

So that is where life stands currently and what has precipitated my return.

This is where I live now. It blows.


How long will this new fad last?

On a lark tonight I signed up for Twitter. I wonder how long it will take me to get bored with something that it seems like only hipsters use?

Follow me if you want (sometimes i have funny one-liners, I swear):

True Love Waits: Chapter one

[I have been a slacker in writing my christian romance novel, but I have recently finished the draft to chapter one: Michael’s story. Enjoy!]

True Love Waits [Alternate title: Unborn Babies’ True Love Waits in Africa and is better than Atonement Child]

Chapter one: Michael’s story

Michael Tait that morning was on his knees, as he always was before he started his day. He has carefully tied his shoulder-length dark brunette hair back to not distract him during prayer. It was hard not to be distracted though when it was blazing hot before the sun had even risen. He felt beads of sweat roll from the base of his neck and down to his chest underneath his white tank top.

He had been taught by his mother to pray daily like that on a daily basis but he hadn’t fully understood the importance of it in his life until three years ago. That year he was supposed to graduate from Calvin College that year with his B.A. in Religion when his father fell ill. Michael had rushed home to Grand Haven to spend the last week of his father’s life by his side. As his father was breathing his last he asked Michael how his walk with God was.

That had given Michael pause, he hadn’t really thought of it.

“I’m getting my degree in religion, dad.” He had said.

His dad weakly shook his head, “Knowledge doesn’t matter without the relationship.”
That sentence had rocked Michael’s world. Of course at first, his human pride rejected it. But love won out. He promised his father that he would begin praying again and let God speak to him. Now, three years later Michael was a strong man of God. The Lord was training him more and more each day to accept the burden that he had placed upon his life. But, even though the Lord surely knew the desires of his heart, he was lacking one thing he so desperately wanted, a wife.

Three years ago when his father was dying he was engaged to be married to a fellow religion major, Linda VanderLeest. She was the daughter of one of the most prestigious families in town. In addition to having all the money and influence she wanted she was also stunningly beautiful. Her long hair, the color of the corn harvest in the countryside just outside of Grand Rapids, fell to her mid back in waves and her pale skin offset her icy blue eyes. She was a jogger too, and it showed in her figure.

She and Michael had hit it off on a floor date their freshman year. She had been impressed by his skills in ultimate Frisbee and he had simply been left speechless by her beauty. By the end of their sophomore year they were engaged. All his friends thought him the luckiest man in the world and so had Linda herself-her vanity had known no bounds. By his senior year Michael knew he had to break it off, it was getting too hard to always be the second actor in the act that Linda put on to show everyone how perfect her life was. It was the hardest thing he had ever done.

After that Michael realized that he needed to seriously mature before he ever again got into another relationship. He had almost made a huge mistake because he had been too taken with unimportant things like beauty.

“And Lord, please bless me with the maturity to handle life’s ups and downs and to grow into the man you want me to be,” he said, closing his prayer.

He knew he was on the right path to maturity now. His co-workers had thought him crazy when he took a two week vacation to volunteer in an orphanage in Kenya with his church. He had a good job at Zondervan Publishing, but with the recent economic downturn there was talk of lay-offs and everybody was working extra hard to prove their value to the company. The current conditions made Michael’s vacation look like employment suicide. But Michael knew that the Lord was moving him to do his work in Kenya and would provide.

The work was hard, he arose each morning before the sun was up and only spent a few minutes by himself before walking down the dirty street to the orphanage. It hurt him to pass the piles of refuse in the streets and to hear the cries of hungry children on his way each morning but he was strengthened when he reminded himself that he was making the village a better place and making the villagers lives better.

A Pair of Very Badly Dressed Mormon missionaries

So in the world of the Midwest and Bible Belt saying that so-and-so goes to a Christian college is a way of assuring the other person that the individual you are speaking about is respectable and a good person. In English speak though it apparently means, “Oy, these kids want to come over and convert you, will that be alright?”

So when my partner and I walked up to the house of an older couple that we were to interview for our British culture class the gentleman met us at his gate and said, “Before you come in I must ask, what religion are you?” After a few awkward words explaining the CRC/trying to say that conversion was not our intention (actually, I let my partner handle this, as a non-believer trying to convert them might have blown their minds) we were let in, where we had to deal with the lady of the house.

She assured us that we were not going to convert her from Catholicism, nor her husband from the Methodist Church. For the first ten minutes they still believed that we were not Mormons nor Jehovah’s Witnesses, but still wanted to convert them to something called the Reformed Church. After their fears were abated they were quite brilliant and told us all that we wanted to know about their lives and opinions. It was fantastic.

It was hilarious/ pretty embarrassing at the same time.

Plus, I think I’d make I shitty Mormon… I like archaeology too much.

Kaydon writes a Christian Romance (part 1)

Between the boredom of not being able to go to the Gallery on St. John’s night because I would die walking there in the cold (The first time it majorly snows in 20+ years in York and I have to be here?!) and being in a trying godless enviroment in the UK (have you seen those atheist bus signs? The nerve of outspoken nonbelievers!), I have written the most spellbinding Christian Romance ever. After googling “Christian Romance” (which is the only research I have done for my foray into the Christian Romance publishing industry) I found a really hilarious article about the dangers of Christian Romance. Upon further perusing this website I discovered that these fine folks, in addition to not liking Christian Romance novels, favored a system of courtship wherein the female in the relationship has no idea the relationship is going on basically until the marriage because her parents have been meeting with the dude behind the scenes for many, many months. And then the parents are like, “Surprise! We think he is perfect for you. Would you like him?” And usually the female is so sheltered and doesn’t know any other dudes anyway and is so desperate for sexual contact marriage that she is like, “Omg, Yes!”.

These folks are clearly underserved in the Christian Romance novel department. But, unfortunately, you can only make the heroine in a novel, even a Christian romance novel, only so clueless. So, these people will continue to go underserved, but it’s really their own damn fault for being sooooooo creepy about things (if Frank Peretti ever writes a romance that has demons vying for the souls of the nearly Christian lovers then maybe…).

Anyways, here’s my brainstorming for the novel:

The Heroine: Must be plain. But underneath her plainness she must have a beautiful interior with a passion for Jesus. Always, always, always if you must have a main character who starts off as an unbeliever it must be the male (please see that movie where Mandy Moore is dying of cancer of something and this dude totally wants her in high school but she listens to Third Day or whatever while he is off headbanging to Korn and then he finds the church and they get married and then she dies).

Or, if she is very beautiful, she must have a flaw which is preventing her from finding Mr. Right. These can include distance from civilization (found mainly in historical romances or in Amish communities), pride, being too picky or falling for jerks (see every romantic comedy ever made).

For purposes of the Christian Romance novel, she doesn’t have a body. If you must allude to her body you must never go into detail but stick with generalities like thin or plump, even a word like curvy might be considered too racy.

Most importantly, she must be you. That’s right, feel free to make to embody all your good qualities or how you imagine yourself to be in your fantasies.

The Hero: You may describe him from the shoulders up, and by that I mean he has strong shoulders. The Hero, while he may be thin, is not allowed to the gangly, weak or body, or small. He is also not allowed to be disabled. His tragic flaw may be that he his unchurched, has had sex before, or his father never really loved him as a child.

The plot and goal: The goal of course is marriage. But how should they meet? I think Missions Trip love is something not satisfactorily explored by anyone other than they guy who writes “Stuff Christians Like” (and I am an expert in Short Term Missions Trips, so there you go).  So it our two future lovers will meet on a Missions Trip to Kenya (I know all about Kenya, for this annoying girl I am friends with on Facebook went there and was all like, “Zomg! I must advance God’s kingdom here by getting cornrows!”) where they will be drawn to the compassion displayed by each other as they work together in a Children’s Hospital caring for babies dying from AIDs. When they return to the states, they not only must deal with the uncomfortableness they feel about the materialistic and apithetic western world around them but they must deal with their own purity. True love waits…for marriage.

Title: True Loves Waits (alternative title: Unborn Babies’ True Love Waits in Africa)

Backcover blub: Michael Tait could never forget the first time he saw, really saw, Rachel VanderCamp. She was cradling a dying infant in her arms with a love that was radiating from her. He had never really considered her the woman for him, even though they had spent their entire youths attending Madison Square CRC with their families and later joined the young adults group at Mars Hill, that all changed those 2 weeks he spent with her in Kenya. Thir love blossoms on Safari, but once they get back to Grand Rapids, will the stresses and materialism of the modern world tear them apart…or bring them together in dangerous and unhealthy ways?

[it is a well know fact that the last line of the backcover blurb must end in a question]

The Hook (besides my phenomenal writing skills): In case you didn’t get it, it is an interracial romance.

The few few chapters coming soon…

Dear Michael Tait, please get back together with DC Talk and have my babies. Love, Kaydon

Dear Michael Tait, please get back together with DC Talk and have my babies. Love, Kaydon

Eating with Calvin kids is not for the hungry

I have been officially in York for three days, in which I have had a lot of fun. But I have learned one very important thing that I had forgotten hanging out with other non-dutchies at Calvin: The American Dutch are the biggest cheapskates in the world. It  goes far, far beyond going Dutch with them, and while the following experience may be somewhat due in part to us being poor exchange students with a measly weekly food allowance, I think that you will find that this goes far beyond just having too few quid in your pocket.

Tonight we went to Whitby. It was a cold, windy day there and so after we got back to York we decided to warm up with some pizza. Several YSJers had told us that good, cheap pizza was to be had at the carry-out across the street. So we went. But first we had to have a really long discussion outside of H block talking about what we wanted (my want included a crust, some sauce, cheese and hopefully some sort of meat topping). So then we finally trekked across the street, but the carry-out was not to many’s satisfaction so we walked down the street, weighing our options.

45 minutes later we were back at the carry-out and I was frozen solid and starving. Then it took another 15 minutes to have our pizzas made. But they were damn good ‘zas. And I got what would work out to a medium pizza from Papa John’s for 5.50 pounds.

I live here, fantastic or what?

I live here, fantastic or what?

How to nearly lose your life at an Anberlin Show

Each year Calvin brings at least one popular Christian act to the FAC, just so the SAO  can claim that they bring diverse concerts and to attract those at Calvin who listen solely to Christian music (much to the chagrine of their dorm’s CDs).  So tonight was the Anberlin show.

I was explaining this to someone at my door who was questioninh why Calvin, indie epicenter of West Michigan, was hosting Anberlin. Except I made the mistake of mentioning CCM. If you value your life you must never, ever tell a fan of Christian rock (even if its the extremely bland, generic stuff) that they listen to CCM. This hurts their street cred, because then everyone around them will think that they are fans of Amy Grant and Todd Agnew,  so they will lash out in order to prove to others around them that they really are cool.

I got lectured by an Anberlin fan standing near that Anberlin wasn’t CCM because he only listened to Christian alternative and Christian metal bands that nobody has ever heard of, like Spoken. Yes, Spoken is so metal. Which brings up another important part of the Christian rocker identity, they listen to bands you have never heard of or they were fans of the flavor of the week Christian rock band looooooong before anyone else had ever heard of them. They are like lower level indie scum that way.

I, unimpressed by the collection of bands nobody had ever heard of that he was fans of (mostly because I had heard of all of them and had been a fan waaaaaaay back in the day), declared that they were under the wider CCM umbrella and shered him through the door. He looked like he wanted to kill me.

And then some people, according to the very concerned looking Campus Safety officer, almost died crowd surfing and a friend lost her shoe in the mosh (if anyone has an extra shoe, would you mind bringing it to the lost and found?).

According to a t-shirt I saw all night, these guys throw axes, not grenades

According to a t-shirt I saw all night, these guys throw axes, not grenades