Paintball

(not actually me, my blog is just getting boring with no pics)
So today I went paintballing with my youth ministry. I didn't want to go. For the last couple weeks I was having this huge moral dilemma about how a Christian shouldn't find joy or entertainment in faking war and inflicting pain in other people. In addition I find it hard to rationalize spending THAT much money on a few hours of "fun" when there are people who can't afford food in the world. And lastly, Robb and I have been trying REALLY hard lately to be understanding of each other's faith/church background and come to some compromises in the hope of figuring out the technicalities behind our potential "mixed marriage". I thought if I didn't go paintballing I would be making a stand for pacifism and the true spirit of Jesus, etc. and I didn't want to have any part of it.

HOWEVER...the night before our youth minister called and asked if I would drive because they didn't have enough adults going. I said I would go, but I still wasn't sure if I'd play. He insisted he was going to shoot me anyway though! I called Robb and asked him what Mennonites thought about paintballing and he thought that was the dumbest question EVER! Here I was trying to make a stand for the sake of our relationship and Jesus in general and he laughed and told me to "Go kick some ass!" (The youth Minister won't let me live down the fact that I asked permission first.)

So I went and I played and I had a great time. I'm covered with welts (11 in fact) and I can't move my pinky because it is swollen. I padded my bra for protection before I went though, so the girls are OK. (I know you were all worried) I still think I am morally opposed to the idea of paintballing, but it was fun. I don't like guns. I was pretty good though. I got shot more than the other 3 girls, so I don't know if that is good or bad, but I was on the front lines going for the glory. I guess the lesson of the day is:
Nothing says "Jesus loves you!" like a paintball from close range!

New Car?

In spite of all the memories, all the roadtrips, and all the miles I've lovingly shared with my wonderful car, I had to let her go. I brought her to Dobb's to check-up on a clunk that has been growing louder over the past year or so and found that what she really needs is new brakes AND new tires - not to mention a clamp to hold the exhaust system steady to stop the clunking. So, I decided it was time to get a new one. It worked out quite well though because I was planning on driving home for Memorial Day anyway and so I drove my car home and left it there for my mom to attempt to sell. In the meantime I bought my Grandpa's car that he isn't driving anymore. It is a red 1999 Ford Escort. I'm so pleased that I didn't have to deal with the hassle of buying a new car from people I shouldn't trust and g-ma and g-pa gave me a sweet deal, so I can't complain. It just doesn't feel like mine yet. Every time I look at it I think - yup, that's grandpa's car. I guess I need a good roadtrip or two to break it in, but that will have to wait until funding and time become more readily available. I'll try to post a picture of it soon though!