the online journal of jordan e.

Oh, that Saddam.
Since Saddam Hussein was discovered in his little burrow, I'm not sure what to think. I was happy and relieved that they finally nabbed him, but after an hour or so in front of CNN, I wasn't exactly gung ho about his potential execution. Have you all seen that same medical examination clip being perpetually replayed? He doesn't look like a murderous dictator - he looks like a bum from South Moorhead. In fact, he looks like he's been thriving off of 35-cent Tastee-Freez coney dogs and sleeping in a 1986 Pound Puppy sleeping bag. When they were checking him for cooties did anyone else have pity on him?
So what do you think they should do with Hussein? An execution would certainly seem just from worldly standards. A life in solitary confinement might give us the sense of justice, too. Even better, though, I think Saddam should be entered into MTV's reality show, "Sorority Girls." I think eventually the cat fights, Bath and Body Works lotion and binge drinking would tucker him out.

posted by Jordan @ 3:32 em

Custodian Ambush
I didn't get much sleep last night so this afternoon I decided to take a little nap. The outlook for a snooze looked mighty fine since both roomies were at class and I had great-grandma Froelich's huge quilt to wrap up in. However, at about mid-snooze, there was a thundering knock on my bedroom door. I yelped a little, "yeah?" and the door opened to one of Concordia's maintenance men with a tool box and a blue jumpsuit.
"I just fixed your stool. I heard you'd been having flushing problems," he said.
Feeling a little awkward and still half asleep, I thanked "Jim" and watched him exit our apartment.
I've decided that there's nothing quite as unsettling as being awoken by a man who has just "fixed your stool."

posted by Jordan @ 4:46 em

Ich Weunsche Euch ein Schoenes Sankt Nikolaus Tag
Being the sixth of December, all German kiddies (and probably some adults) awoke to goodies stuffed in their Nikes this morning. Yes, for Germans, last night was the night that Saint Nicholaus came around, door to door with his buddy Black Peter. Children leave their shoes out for Santa, hoping that if they were good children this year he will drop off candy, small toys and generally good stuff. If they happened to be rancid little brats, however, Black Peter, the gnarled sidekick who resembles this man leaves switches for them.
Last year I bought my roomies chocolate Santas to stand before their bedroom doors as a Sankt Nikolaus Tag surprise. Unfortunately for Tina, her Santa got sat on in the Strassenbahn, so she woke up to a crinkled aluminum foil and crushed hollow chocolate mess. But I do believe that smashed Santa still brightened her day. Here's hoping you all enjoyed Sankt Nikolaus Tag.

posted by Jordan @ 9:37 em

Force Feeding of Humble Pie
This weekend stripped me of my pride -- it surgically removed my pride without anesthesia -- this weekend took a rusty pliers and violently dug between my kidneys to extract my pride.
This painful extraction began on Wednesday morning (8:30am, the ticket will tell you) when I was pulled over one mile from Concordia. A faithful sergeant of the Moorhead Police Force approached my crap-mobile loaded with laundry baskets, backpacks, a girl getting a ride to Two Harbors, a West African and me. He told me I was going a "little fast" back by the I-Beam nightclub and needed to see my ID and proof of insurance. He proceeded to have a twenty minute bonding session with my driver's license and returned with a ticket for driving 40mph in a 30mph zone. It didn't seem to matter that I was the driver of a car load of people going home for Thanksgiving or that I cannot even afford to replace the heater of my vehicle. So I took the $110 ticket and continued homeward.
Sampson from Ghana stayed with us for the entire break. I should have remembered how important it was as a foreign student to spend time at a family's home during holidays. I should have let the petty annoyances go. And I should not have been selfish and wished that I was sleeping in my own room instead of the bottom bunk under my brother, Jacob. But instead I was self-absorbed and didn't treat Sampson as graciously as I should have. Both God and my parents convicted me of it.
When I got back to Concordia I heard about an angry message from precious Juan, my tyrant boss at the restaurant "Juano's" that I work at. I was supposed to work at 4:00 on Sunday but because of the four hour drive, the car load of people I was transporting and the fact that it was Jonah's 17th birthday, I asked another girl to work my shift. Juan, apparently, was not happy. So after pulling in the parking lot at 7:30, I called him. The conversation went something like this:
Juan: Where are you?
Jordan: I'm good. How are you?
Juan: Where are you? Why weren't you here?
Jordan: (Explains reasons why and says Deb was there to work instead)
Juan: You were supposed to be here.
Jordan: It just couldn't work out so I had someone else there instead.
Juan: So, you know what I'm going to have to do? I'm firing you. You're fired. You have to fill out a tip report. Bye.

It's sort of funny. Just that morning at church I had prayed that God would make me into a plain, ordinary pot that he could overflow with himself. And I prayed that if anyone would see anything beautiful or exceptional about me it would only be because of the contents within. Now I am finding that this painful process of humility is God's answer to my prayer, reminding me that if I want to be such a simple piece of fired clay, I can't pretend that I'm a crystal vase.

posted by Jordan @ 5:26 em