...are "gross" or "unladylike" and why?
I finally stripped the last bit of purple from my big toes this morning as I ran out the door, realizing that the chipped color I (experimentally) slapped on a month or so ago was looking less than attractive.
I've never been a big paint-your-toenails girl. Chalk it up to 7 years of painful ingrown toenails and the subsequent surgeries that left my toenails oddly shaped. Sure I'll doll them up for a night of playing dress-up, but, in general, I can't be expected to paint them every two days when they start to chip. I'm just not into it. I have other, more important, things to worry about.
Therefore, I will bare my colorless toes with pride.
(Besides, nude goes with everything).
Monday, March 30, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Call me crazy, but...
...I don't think it's the government's job to save/restructure the auto industry. (http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/chronicle/6348554.html) I realize that, as a good Michigan girl, I should back any efforts to salvage the Big Three.
I can't. I can't support bail-outs, and I can't support the government keeping companies and industries alive. That's the point of capitalism, isn't it? That the strong survive and the weak...don't.
I can't. I can't support bail-outs, and I can't support the government keeping companies and industries alive. That's the point of capitalism, isn't it? That the strong survive and the weak...don't.
I sliced my finger...
...while making dinner last night. The knife slipped and I started bleeding. Don't worry -- the damage is minimal. I just skinned my finger a little bit. Oops.
Following my dangerous cooking experience, I saw the movie Taken. Actually, that's not true. I saw everything after the first 10 minutes. I didn't get the text about it until 9:45 (thank you, dead-zone-pool-house), and then ran over there. It's very close by, but I didn't know exactly which side of the mall the theater was on. I'm still figuring out this town. My review: The movie was a feel-good, happy-ending action flick. It was predictable and violent, though (not that we didn't laugh when bad guy #1 got cocky about his escape -- and promptly met his end by a speeding bus). I was impressed, however, that they brought attention to the modern slave trade -- I just hope that people realize that the writers didn't invent that part of the film for the sake of a compelling situation.
I had something pertinent to follow that, but it's swirling around my mind, never to be identified again.
Oh! I got a P.O. Box for all my crazy mail, so not to inundate my Texan family. If you want my address, email me.
Following my dangerous cooking experience, I saw the movie Taken. Actually, that's not true. I saw everything after the first 10 minutes. I didn't get the text about it until 9:45 (thank you, dead-zone-pool-house), and then ran over there. It's very close by, but I didn't know exactly which side of the mall the theater was on. I'm still figuring out this town. My review: The movie was a feel-good, happy-ending action flick. It was predictable and violent, though (not that we didn't laugh when bad guy #1 got cocky about his escape -- and promptly met his end by a speeding bus). I was impressed, however, that they brought attention to the modern slave trade -- I just hope that people realize that the writers didn't invent that part of the film for the sake of a compelling situation.
I had something pertinent to follow that, but it's swirling around my mind, never to be identified again.
Oh! I got a P.O. Box for all my crazy mail, so not to inundate my Texan family. If you want my address, email me.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Today, I am 23...
...and two months. No longer can I minimize the change by saying that I just turned it, meaning, in essence, that I'm still basically 22. If two months is enough time to quit my job, move home, pack up, move across the country, and establish a new life, then two months is certainly enough time to settle into an age. I am what I am, and I will be for about eight more months until I become transient again, and I start saying (with either a grin or a scowl, as only time will tell) that I'm nearly 24.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
When I commit to eating healthy foods...
...I tend to not eat enough. It sounds strange, and even I don't get it. But there's a certain point (unbeknownst to most dieters) where your body ceases to burn calories and actually goes into starvation mode -- causing your weight to stabilize or even increase.
Illustration: http://www.wisegeek.com/what-does-200-calories-look-like.htm
It's kind of cool -- an actual visual on 200 calories (or, about 1/7 of my target intake). I guess for me, the issue is about balance -- I'm a woman of extremes. Either I want my chocolate cake and my doritos AND my fried chicken, or I want my hummus and my orange and my string cheese and none of that other junk.
"Middle ground" is a land foreign to me. And I'm not going to eat 1,425 grams of celery every time I need a boost. I don't even like celery. It's so...stringy. Blech.
I'm sure you all care immensely about what I'm eating. But let's face it...I live in a pool house, ten miles from the Gulf of Mexico, and I'm also going to be in a wedding in August (not mine, and I'm not even holding out hope to meet a strapping young gentleman...although maybe...Gina, talk to Jeff: Will the love of my life be there?...but that doesn't change the fact that I want to look fabulous beside my beautiful best bride friend).
That aside, I'm just tired of feeling sick all the time from the foods I eat. It's lame.
K, I'm done.
Illustration: http://www.wisegeek.com/what-does-200-calories-look-like.htm
It's kind of cool -- an actual visual on 200 calories (or, about 1/7 of my target intake). I guess for me, the issue is about balance -- I'm a woman of extremes. Either I want my chocolate cake and my doritos AND my fried chicken, or I want my hummus and my orange and my string cheese and none of that other junk.
"Middle ground" is a land foreign to me. And I'm not going to eat 1,425 grams of celery every time I need a boost. I don't even like celery. It's so...stringy. Blech.
I'm sure you all care immensely about what I'm eating. But let's face it...I live in a pool house, ten miles from the Gulf of Mexico, and I'm also going to be in a wedding in August (not mine, and I'm not even holding out hope to meet a strapping young gentleman...although maybe...Gina, talk to Jeff: Will the love of my life be there?...but that doesn't change the fact that I want to look fabulous beside my beautiful best bride friend).
That aside, I'm just tired of feeling sick all the time from the foods I eat. It's lame.
K, I'm done.
Monday, March 23, 2009
I sent a zoo of animal crackers...
...to the trash last night, after I realized that eating them makes me hungrier.
Today, I'm eating happy and healthy. And I'm debating whether to become part-time vegetarian. If given the chance, I'd eat meat at every meal. A typical day finds me mowing on non-cracker animal at least twice a day. I'd like to switch to a lighter, more rabbit-inspired way of eating. Lots of fruit and veggies, with meaty-bits just once a day (max).
Wow, I'm all sorts of rambly today.
Today, I'm eating happy and healthy. And I'm debating whether to become part-time vegetarian. If given the chance, I'd eat meat at every meal. A typical day finds me mowing on non-cracker animal at least twice a day. I'd like to switch to a lighter, more rabbit-inspired way of eating. Lots of fruit and veggies, with meaty-bits just once a day (max).
Wow, I'm all sorts of rambly today.
This weekend, I finished reading...
...the book "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth (Liz) Gilbert. It's a NY Times best seller, and kept popping up on my radar, so I got curious and bought it at Hastings one day.
The concept of the memoir is enticing -- a woman in her early 30s, unhappy in her marriage, pursues divorce and then, after a long and bitter split and the depression that accompanied it, sets out to travel the world. Her goal is to rediscover pleasure and devotion, and to grow closer to the God she discovered while sobbing in misery on her bathroom floor.
I will say that, in general, I liked the book. The idea of spending a year overseas, with equal time split between Italy, India, and Indonesia, fascinated me. Her spiritual journey, detailed in its most raw and honest form, appeals to not only myself, but all who have walked a similar path.
Even so, I probably won't read it again. In fact, I plan to sell it back to Hastings as soon as I get a chance. Here's why:
1) Liz Gilbert is ridiculously obsessed with sex.
I understand that sex is good. I even understand that it's part of a natural life. I get it. But the author shows zero remorse, despite her spiritual yearnings, for the affair she had while still married. She commits herself to celibacy (not chastity, mind you...as we discover later in the book) for the year of her journey, but quickly rebukes that upon meeting a handsome and winning Brazilian man in Indonesia. Sure, she refuses the invitation to his bed on the first night, and counts it as some great spiritual conquest, even though she engaged in...um...other activities to handle the passion that pulled her from her sleep. Even so, she tumbled into his arms on the second night of his asking (Really, Liz? You held out one whole night? How very pious of you), and then goes on to detail the complications she experienced as a result of too much sex. Chalk it up to things I didn't need to know.
2) There's no real spiritual direction.
The author describes herself as a "cultural Christian" though she stumbles over the idea that Jesus is the only way to God. I would agree that there are methods of practice that each faith can teach the others, but there is a problem with Gilbert's variety show of faith. If we handpick our faith, do we truly believe in God, or have we created our own god, by filling in the parts we like, as if He were a paint-by-numbers for which we chose the colors? I believe the Bible as the Word of God, a text inspired by Him, something greater than myself, and so I am obligated by that belief to follow it. All of it, and not just the parts that I "like." Selective spirituality sounds great -- I'd love to follow it -- but it's false.
3) I'm tired of hearing about happy housewives who discover that they made the wrong decision.
Before I read this book, I read the novel "Revolutionary Road," which was made into an award-winning movie last year. Don't read it. It's all about a couple who both engage in extramarital affairs, and generally screw up their relationship, with much of the focus being on the wife's unhappiness in living the "traditional" life. I saw the same lines being drawn in Eat, Pray, Love: Liz isn't happy as a wife, and, despite turning 30, isn't ready to have a baby. So she gets a divorce and travels the world. Let me just say this: I hate divorce. I hate the concept of it, I hate the practice of it, I hate even thinking about it. The way I see it, you made a choice on your wedding day to love the other person no matter what. No matter if you decide you don't want to be married anymore or if your partner is spiritually dense while you're discovering God. If he's beating you (physically or emotionally or otherwise) or cheating on you, then you have a God-given right to divorce. In any other case, it's a no-go. I'm 23, and I don't want to be married yet. I have things still to do as a single person, things that are possible, but much harder while married. Still, if I had gotten married already, then I'd be married. It's as simple as that.
I googled criticisms about the book earlier today, and one, in particular, summed up my feeling about it: "Get over yourself." Right on, sister. Right on.
If you actually read all of my impromptu book report above, you get a gold star for the day.
The concept of the memoir is enticing -- a woman in her early 30s, unhappy in her marriage, pursues divorce and then, after a long and bitter split and the depression that accompanied it, sets out to travel the world. Her goal is to rediscover pleasure and devotion, and to grow closer to the God she discovered while sobbing in misery on her bathroom floor.
I will say that, in general, I liked the book. The idea of spending a year overseas, with equal time split between Italy, India, and Indonesia, fascinated me. Her spiritual journey, detailed in its most raw and honest form, appeals to not only myself, but all who have walked a similar path.
Even so, I probably won't read it again. In fact, I plan to sell it back to Hastings as soon as I get a chance. Here's why:
1) Liz Gilbert is ridiculously obsessed with sex.
I understand that sex is good. I even understand that it's part of a natural life. I get it. But the author shows zero remorse, despite her spiritual yearnings, for the affair she had while still married. She commits herself to celibacy (not chastity, mind you...as we discover later in the book) for the year of her journey, but quickly rebukes that upon meeting a handsome and winning Brazilian man in Indonesia. Sure, she refuses the invitation to his bed on the first night, and counts it as some great spiritual conquest, even though she engaged in...um...other activities to handle the passion that pulled her from her sleep. Even so, she tumbled into his arms on the second night of his asking (Really, Liz? You held out one whole night? How very pious of you), and then goes on to detail the complications she experienced as a result of too much sex. Chalk it up to things I didn't need to know.
2) There's no real spiritual direction.
The author describes herself as a "cultural Christian" though she stumbles over the idea that Jesus is the only way to God. I would agree that there are methods of practice that each faith can teach the others, but there is a problem with Gilbert's variety show of faith. If we handpick our faith, do we truly believe in God, or have we created our own god, by filling in the parts we like, as if He were a paint-by-numbers for which we chose the colors? I believe the Bible as the Word of God, a text inspired by Him, something greater than myself, and so I am obligated by that belief to follow it. All of it, and not just the parts that I "like." Selective spirituality sounds great -- I'd love to follow it -- but it's false.
3) I'm tired of hearing about happy housewives who discover that they made the wrong decision.
Before I read this book, I read the novel "Revolutionary Road," which was made into an award-winning movie last year. Don't read it. It's all about a couple who both engage in extramarital affairs, and generally screw up their relationship, with much of the focus being on the wife's unhappiness in living the "traditional" life. I saw the same lines being drawn in Eat, Pray, Love: Liz isn't happy as a wife, and, despite turning 30, isn't ready to have a baby. So she gets a divorce and travels the world. Let me just say this: I hate divorce. I hate the concept of it, I hate the practice of it, I hate even thinking about it. The way I see it, you made a choice on your wedding day to love the other person no matter what. No matter if you decide you don't want to be married anymore or if your partner is spiritually dense while you're discovering God. If he's beating you (physically or emotionally or otherwise) or cheating on you, then you have a God-given right to divorce. In any other case, it's a no-go. I'm 23, and I don't want to be married yet. I have things still to do as a single person, things that are possible, but much harder while married. Still, if I had gotten married already, then I'd be married. It's as simple as that.
I googled criticisms about the book earlier today, and one, in particular, summed up my feeling about it: "Get over yourself." Right on, sister. Right on.
If you actually read all of my impromptu book report above, you get a gold star for the day.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Also, it should be noted that I...
...whipped a half-full bottle of water at a blackbird today -- and nearly hit the dumb thing. An older gentleman from the church (we were on site for a rebuild in Surfside....shhh....don't tell the CNCS, but if you do, be clear that I was on my own time) saw me, and started laughing. I didn't think anybody was watching. The dumb birds had been ransacking our snacks all day, and were irritating me. Good thing I go to church with some wonderful, good-natured people. :)
When I'm old, I...
...want to drive a pickup. Just to be that ballsy little woman who still does things her own way. I don't want one now, but remind me in about 45 years.
Friday, March 20, 2009
I bought a new...
...calendar today. I had to. Google Calendar, unfortunately, doesn't go everywhere I do, and I suddenly have 3,000 things to keep track of. My old calendar was wonderful for life in Ann Arbor, when my weekdays were straightforward and predictable, and my weekends only occasionally varied from the norm.
Here I might attend 4 meetings in a day, while also juggling emails & phone calls, 7 committees, and at least one "Carolyn, could you..." per hour. I'd say that justifies the purchase. Plus, I found a great one at WalMart for just $5.00. For those who don't know -- that's cheap. Planners tend to be very expensive. It's still not as big as I would have liked, but there's room for business cards, a note pad, and all the little doodads I get handed in a given day.
I do have to say, it looks a lot like Jane's "File-o-facts" in the movie 27 Dresses (pink and all). And I'll be a maid of honor this summer. And if I rewind the movie to the beginning, Kevin Doyle is still single (bitter, maybe, but adorable nonetheless). He can find my planner and pencil himself in any day.
mmmmmmmmmmhmm.
Here I might attend 4 meetings in a day, while also juggling emails & phone calls, 7 committees, and at least one "Carolyn, could you..." per hour. I'd say that justifies the purchase. Plus, I found a great one at WalMart for just $5.00. For those who don't know -- that's cheap. Planners tend to be very expensive. It's still not as big as I would have liked, but there's room for business cards, a note pad, and all the little doodads I get handed in a given day.
I do have to say, it looks a lot like Jane's "File-o-facts" in the movie 27 Dresses (pink and all). And I'll be a maid of honor this summer. And if I rewind the movie to the beginning, Kevin Doyle is still single (bitter, maybe, but adorable nonetheless). He can find my planner and pencil himself in any day.
mmmmmmmmmmhmm.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
The jury has returned...
...and the verdict is clear: I like Sonic.
It's fast food, sure, but it's different than your run-of-the-mill McDonald's or Wendy's. It's grilled club sandwiches. And lemon-berry slushies that force me to keep a trash can nearby -- to catch the seeds, of course.
It's true, I'm a fan.
I didn't pack my lunch this morning because I woke up grumpy -- and late. I'm generally feeling better today, but it'll still be quiet as death in that big house tonight, which may resuscitate feelings of loneliness. I decided that, rather than whining about it, I'm going to capitalize on it. I haven't cooked a full meal since...well, since I don't know when. It may have been a couple of months ago. Tonight, that will change.
I just have to figure out what I'm making. :)
It's fast food, sure, but it's different than your run-of-the-mill McDonald's or Wendy's. It's grilled club sandwiches. And lemon-berry slushies that force me to keep a trash can nearby -- to catch the seeds, of course.
It's true, I'm a fan.
I didn't pack my lunch this morning because I woke up grumpy -- and late. I'm generally feeling better today, but it'll still be quiet as death in that big house tonight, which may resuscitate feelings of loneliness. I decided that, rather than whining about it, I'm going to capitalize on it. I haven't cooked a full meal since...well, since I don't know when. It may have been a couple of months ago. Tonight, that will change.
I just have to figure out what I'm making. :)
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Tonight, I miss...
...home. It's the first time since I left. Tomorrow will be exactly a month since I left my parents' house and set off on my grand adventure. And today I felt the sting of knowing that I can't just take a weekend to run home for a visit.
It's terrible, but I think I miss my cat most of all. She was always around for the past 6 months, and for years and years prior, when I felt lonely...and now she's not here to cuddle and purr and whine. Madre sent me a photo of the little fuzzball, but that just makes the distance seem greater.
Perhaps it's the emptiness of the big house that is adding to my loneliness. My Texan family is on spring break, and headed to College Station for a couple of days (They're Aggies, through and through). Perhaps it's talking to old friends and finding out the great things that are happening in their lives -- things I'm not around to share in the celebration of. Perhaps it's the simple fact that I'm 1500 miles from the people I know and love.
It's terrible, but I think I miss my cat most of all. She was always around for the past 6 months, and for years and years prior, when I felt lonely...and now she's not here to cuddle and purr and whine. Madre sent me a photo of the little fuzzball, but that just makes the distance seem greater.
Perhaps it's the emptiness of the big house that is adding to my loneliness. My Texan family is on spring break, and headed to College Station for a couple of days (They're Aggies, through and through). Perhaps it's talking to old friends and finding out the great things that are happening in their lives -- things I'm not around to share in the celebration of. Perhaps it's the simple fact that I'm 1500 miles from the people I know and love.
It ain't easy...
...being green. Except today: Happy St. Patrick's Day!
You know, over the years I let myself grow very cynical about days like this. I fancied myself above such childish celebrations. Valentine's Day? Psh. You mean Single Person's Awareness Day (never mind that I could have been sharing the love with dear friends). Or 4th of July? American Schmerican. Sure, it's cool living here, but we're so ethnocentric. Let it rest.
I'm kind of a jerk.
No, it's okay. I'm aware of it, and that's the first, very important step.
Last night I realized that I hide behind my spunk. I texted to a friend, "I'm not that interesting without my sass."
I said it off-handedly, thinking nothing of it until I punched the send button. Then the weight of the statment hit me. This isn't a joke -- it's something I truly believe. If I'm nervous around people, I get mouthier. If I want them to like me, and I'm afraid they won't (which is most of the time), I get louder, more boisterous, and, for lack of a better word, sassy. This persona gets me attention, but it's not sustainable. It's a part of me, maybe, but it's not ME.
Part of my 100-days experiment is to find out who I am and to build confidence in that. So that I don't have to carry my security blanket of spunk around with me.
Today's lesson of Carolyn:
I like goofy, hallmark holidays. They make me smile. And yes, I'm wearing my green.
You know, over the years I let myself grow very cynical about days like this. I fancied myself above such childish celebrations. Valentine's Day? Psh. You mean Single Person's Awareness Day (never mind that I could have been sharing the love with dear friends). Or 4th of July? American Schmerican. Sure, it's cool living here, but we're so ethnocentric. Let it rest.
I'm kind of a jerk.
No, it's okay. I'm aware of it, and that's the first, very important step.
Last night I realized that I hide behind my spunk. I texted to a friend, "I'm not that interesting without my sass."
I said it off-handedly, thinking nothing of it until I punched the send button. Then the weight of the statment hit me. This isn't a joke -- it's something I truly believe. If I'm nervous around people, I get mouthier. If I want them to like me, and I'm afraid they won't (which is most of the time), I get louder, more boisterous, and, for lack of a better word, sassy. This persona gets me attention, but it's not sustainable. It's a part of me, maybe, but it's not ME.
Part of my 100-days experiment is to find out who I am and to build confidence in that. So that I don't have to carry my security blanket of spunk around with me.
Today's lesson of Carolyn:
I like goofy, hallmark holidays. They make me smile. And yes, I'm wearing my green.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
#78 DONE. It was pouring rain and about 47 degrees, but I went to Surfside's St. Patrick's Day parade and had fun. I realized when I got there that I didn't actually know where to go, and considering the weather, I was afraid it would be canceled. Nobody answered their phones to look it up for me, but I drove around the small town until I saw the parade route barricaded, then parked my car at the Jetty park and walked down. My umbrella kept the rain off my head, but did little else to protect me from the elements.
Note: On the Gulf Coast, St. Patty's Day is kind of like Mardi Gras remixed, but they dye the beer. I came home with a huge pile of beads, a couple of beach balls, and two beer koozies.
When I got back in the car, shivering, I just started laughing. These are the things that make me happy -- the strange, once-in-a-lifetime events that you just enjoy for whatever they're worth. I'm so glad I put this on my list. I might not have gone otherwise.
In other news, I broke down and bought a new sewing machine today. The chaps at FedEx did more damage to Sonny the Singer than I had thought, and so I gave up on it. My mom feels bad -- that she didn't pack it well enough, but I told her not to worry about it. I got the cheapest machine I found, and I think it'll serve me well for the time being at least. It was an expense that I'll have to make up for in other ways, but I'm prepared to do that. It's worth it.
Note: On the Gulf Coast, St. Patty's Day is kind of like Mardi Gras remixed, but they dye the beer. I came home with a huge pile of beads, a couple of beach balls, and two beer koozies.
When I got back in the car, shivering, I just started laughing. These are the things that make me happy -- the strange, once-in-a-lifetime events that you just enjoy for whatever they're worth. I'm so glad I put this on my list. I might not have gone otherwise.
In other news, I broke down and bought a new sewing machine today. The chaps at FedEx did more damage to Sonny the Singer than I had thought, and so I gave up on it. My mom feels bad -- that she didn't pack it well enough, but I told her not to worry about it. I got the cheapest machine I found, and I think it'll serve me well for the time being at least. It was an expense that I'll have to make up for in other ways, but I'm prepared to do that. It's worth it.
Following a life to-do list...
...is sometimes harder than we think. By three days in, the "whoohoo, go get 'em!" attitude wears off and the, "but it'd be so much easier to stay home" thought takes over.
I suppose that's the point, though. It's the impetus to actually do those things that stretch us, the things that we always say we're going to do, but never quite get around to.
It's rainy, it's cold, and I'm STILL going to the St. Patty's Day parade (#78) down in Surfside today. Also, I bought a Rubik's cube and have every intention of solving it (#73).
I suppose that's the point, though. It's the impetus to actually do those things that stretch us, the things that we always say we're going to do, but never quite get around to.
It's rainy, it's cold, and I'm STILL going to the St. Patty's Day parade (#78) down in Surfside today. Also, I bought a Rubik's cube and have every intention of solving it (#73).
Thursday, March 12, 2009
I'm turning Texanese, I think...
...I'm turning Texanese, I really think so. It's March. it's 49 degrees out. I should be celebrating.
I'm cold. It hit 80 at least once last week. Now it's not quite 50. So much for my cocky-Michigan-you-think-this-is-cold-psh attitude. I want a hoodie and slippers and a soft cuddly puppy.
Thank goodness I have two out of three. I left my slippers at home.
I'm cold. It hit 80 at least once last week. Now it's not quite 50. So much for my cocky-Michigan-you-think-this-is-cold-psh attitude. I want a hoodie and slippers and a soft cuddly puppy.
Thank goodness I have two out of three. I left my slippers at home.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
I'm apparently in a list-making...
...mood these days. I made another one last night, a list of 100 things to do in 100 days. It's funny how I had less trouble brainstorming these 100 short-term goals than I had brainstorming 50 long-term life goals. They range from the practical (wear every item of seasonally-appropriate clothing in my closet at least once) to the goofy (do a cartwheel on the beach), and everything in between.
Y'all don't get to see that list, though you may hear about my accomplishments. It's somewhat intimidating -- that many things to do in a relatively short amount of time, but they're all within a scope of reason (visiting the moon -- or even home -- is certainly not possible given my budget and time frame), and I have great hope in my abilities.
In any case, one of those items (number something or other...I don't have it handy) is to stay off facebook. I decided to do another Facebook-only fast, recognizing that it is the one thing that truly consumes my time and energy beyond an appropriate level. In addition, my blog posts will be more light-hearted than profound, as I save the cavernous regions of my heart for my bound journal, where I can be brutally honest with myself and with God. I know all three of my readers will be sincerely disappointed. Tough luck.
Following on the tails of one of yesterday's three (yes, three) posts, I would like to point out that today, I'm wearing another fashion risk. My shirt is bright pink (not the risk), and it has ruffles on the front (yes, ruffles). It's also a size small, which I bought on blind faith, having tried on the medium and deciding it was too loose. The small is working for me, but let's just say that I'm not allowed to gain back any of the weight I've lost recently. Mmhmm.
Haha...sometimes I love being me.
Y'all don't get to see that list, though you may hear about my accomplishments. It's somewhat intimidating -- that many things to do in a relatively short amount of time, but they're all within a scope of reason (visiting the moon -- or even home -- is certainly not possible given my budget and time frame), and I have great hope in my abilities.
In any case, one of those items (number something or other...I don't have it handy) is to stay off facebook. I decided to do another Facebook-only fast, recognizing that it is the one thing that truly consumes my time and energy beyond an appropriate level. In addition, my blog posts will be more light-hearted than profound, as I save the cavernous regions of my heart for my bound journal, where I can be brutally honest with myself and with God. I know all three of my readers will be sincerely disappointed. Tough luck.
Following on the tails of one of yesterday's three (yes, three) posts, I would like to point out that today, I'm wearing another fashion risk. My shirt is bright pink (not the risk), and it has ruffles on the front (yes, ruffles). It's also a size small, which I bought on blind faith, having tried on the medium and deciding it was too loose. The small is working for me, but let's just say that I'm not allowed to gain back any of the weight I've lost recently. Mmhmm.
Haha...sometimes I love being me.
Monday, March 9, 2009
I think everybody should have a list...
...of the things they want to accomplish before they die. I made one several years ago, in my freshman or sophomore year of college. But some time later, I threw it away. I don't know if I just got discouraged and thought those things would never happen, or got distracted and thought I'd changed my mind. I went searching for the list before I moved to Texas, but i couldn't find it.
So last night I sat down, first with pen and paper, then with Jorge, and prattled out a list of 50+ items. This is just my "I could think of these things," list. I'm certain it could be immeasurably longer. Let's just chalk it up to a work in process.
1. Spend a year (or longer!) living in one location overseas.
2. Run a marathon. Just to prove I can.
3. Become conversational in 2-3 languages; fluent in at least one (other than English).
4. See the northern lights.
5. Get married.
6. Have five (or more) children – at least three of which are adopted.
7. Climb a mountain.
8. Take a self-guided bicycle tour all around the British Isles.
9. Grow out, and donate my hair.
10. Flip and sell a house.
11. Sky dive.
12. Fall in love.
13. Read 100 books in one year.
14. Read through the entire Bible in depth, multiple times.
15. Write a letter a week to friends, family, or my significant other.
16. Learn to swim (doggy paddling is lame).
17. Write and publish a book.
18. Walk along the Great Wall of China.
19. Play hooky from work – for fun.
20. Go horseback riding.
21. Visit two thirds of the major battlegrounds from the Civil War.
22. Visit Australia, and go out into the bush.
23. Go on a wine tour.
24. Cast a pot on a wheel – and center it without help.
25. Eat a croissant in Paris, and then have a French bread sword fight.
26. Ride an elephant again (the last time, I was about seven years old).
27. Spend at least a month in India.
28. Live on the West Coast.
29. Go sailing.
30. Live and work in Africa.
31. Start and run a non-profit organization.
32. Save a life.
33. Slow dance outside in the rain (preferably with the same person involved in #12).
34. Read all 100 of The Modern Library’s Top Novels.
35. Finish the things I start.
36. Read C.S. Lewis’ entire anthology of writings.
37. Spend a day with an otherwise-stranger.
38. Visit the six inhabitable continents (I saw enough snow in Michigan…I don’t need to go to Antarctica).
39. Open a coffee shop.
40. Earn a Master’s Degree in Nonprofit Administration.
41. Take a tour of Mammoth Cave.
42. Be debt-free.
43. Take seminary or Bible college courses.
44. Build a profitable, creative, and fun business.
45. Sing in front of hundreds.
46. Paint a mural.
47. Work from home
48. Visit some of the major concentration camps of Europe.
49. Keep a pet fish alive for at least six months.
50. Be healthy – eat well and be active.
51. Plan and host a large dinner party.
52. Be confident (but not combative) in my faith.
53. Learn how to ballroom dance.
54. Be confident in myself.
55. Tour Jerusalem.
56. Attend my 10, 20 & 30-year class reunions.
57. Buy a house.
58. Have a place in my home available to lend out rent-free to someone who needs it.
59. Canoe the Mississippi River.
60. Kiss the Blarney stone (help is optional).
61. Take surf lessons.
62. Hike in the Rocky Mountains.
63. Take a child to Disney World and watch them light up.
64. Go on a cruise.
65. Learn how to solve a Rubik’s cube.
66. Live happy.
So last night I sat down, first with pen and paper, then with Jorge, and prattled out a list of 50+ items. This is just my "I could think of these things," list. I'm certain it could be immeasurably longer. Let's just chalk it up to a work in process.
1. Spend a year (or longer!) living in one location overseas.
2. Run a marathon. Just to prove I can.
3. Become conversational in 2-3 languages; fluent in at least one (other than English).
4. See the northern lights.
5. Get married.
6. Have five (or more) children – at least three of which are adopted.
7. Climb a mountain.
8. Take a self-guided bicycle tour all around the British Isles.
9. Grow out, and donate my hair.
10. Flip and sell a house.
11. Sky dive.
12. Fall in love.
13. Read 100 books in one year.
14. Read through the entire Bible in depth, multiple times.
15. Write a letter a week to friends, family, or my significant other.
16. Learn to swim (doggy paddling is lame).
17. Write and publish a book.
18. Walk along the Great Wall of China.
19. Play hooky from work – for fun.
20. Go horseback riding.
21. Visit two thirds of the major battlegrounds from the Civil War.
22. Visit Australia, and go out into the bush.
23. Go on a wine tour.
24. Cast a pot on a wheel – and center it without help.
25. Eat a croissant in Paris, and then have a French bread sword fight.
26. Ride an elephant again (the last time, I was about seven years old).
27. Spend at least a month in India.
28. Live on the West Coast.
29. Go sailing.
30. Live and work in Africa.
31. Start and run a non-profit organization.
32. Save a life.
33. Slow dance outside in the rain (preferably with the same person involved in #12).
34. Read all 100 of The Modern Library’s Top Novels.
35. Finish the things I start.
36. Read C.S. Lewis’ entire anthology of writings.
37. Spend a day with an otherwise-stranger.
38. Visit the six inhabitable continents (I saw enough snow in Michigan…I don’t need to go to Antarctica).
39. Open a coffee shop.
40. Earn a Master’s Degree in Nonprofit Administration.
41. Take a tour of Mammoth Cave.
42. Be debt-free.
43. Take seminary or Bible college courses.
44. Build a profitable, creative, and fun business.
45. Sing in front of hundreds.
46. Paint a mural.
47. Work from home
48. Visit some of the major concentration camps of Europe.
49. Keep a pet fish alive for at least six months.
50. Be healthy – eat well and be active.
51. Plan and host a large dinner party.
52. Be confident (but not combative) in my faith.
53. Learn how to ballroom dance.
54. Be confident in myself.
55. Tour Jerusalem.
56. Attend my 10, 20 & 30-year class reunions.
57. Buy a house.
58. Have a place in my home available to lend out rent-free to someone who needs it.
59. Canoe the Mississippi River.
60. Kiss the Blarney stone (help is optional).
61. Take surf lessons.
62. Hike in the Rocky Mountains.
63. Take a child to Disney World and watch them light up.
64. Go on a cruise.
65. Learn how to solve a Rubik’s cube.
66. Live happy.
Have you ever wondered...
...who you would be if you weren't eternally connected to the world? Think about it. What if every photo you took stopped being a potential profile pic? What if you turned off your cell phone so that your cousin's stepbrother's ex-girlfriend couldn't tell you the latest gossip the second she hears it? What if you turned off the TV, and the false visions of reality it holds, and picked up an edifying book instead? And what if, instead of spouting off in blogs, you sat down with a journal in hand and got honest -- with yourself.
I've done the occasional facebook fast, or the TV fast (not that it's any new thing...I didn't have cable for years), or an AIM fast. I've never done an all-across-the-board fast.
Occasionally, though, I get an urge to look inward, rather than outward. To spend some time reorienting myself, and remembering who I am and what truly makes me tick. I, admittedly, spend a lot of time and energy focused on what others think, and I get lost somewhere in that. Rather than pursuing my passions and even the simple things that ought to be getting done, I become consumed with viewing photos, updating my profile, and putting myself in the best light. I get online just hoping that someone will see me and talk to me, hoping for connection.
I'm not saying connection is a bad thing. But being consumed by it is. How will I ever find myself in God if I'm constantly digging myself into a never-ending hole, searching for the fulfillment that comes from human interaction? How will I hear Him speak if I'm inundated with blips and beeps and quacks from facebook, gchat, and adium?
It's a lot to think about, a lot to consider, and by nature, these questions will lead me deeper into contemplation. Now is a good time. I'm in Texas, and I have free time in the evenings that I didn't have in Ann Arbor, simply because I'm new. Nobody has figured out that I can't say no yet.
Just the idea of throwing my security to the wind and moving down here made me question myself -- it proved that I'm capable of a lot more than I sometimes think. Who knew?
I've done the occasional facebook fast, or the TV fast (not that it's any new thing...I didn't have cable for years), or an AIM fast. I've never done an all-across-the-board fast.
Occasionally, though, I get an urge to look inward, rather than outward. To spend some time reorienting myself, and remembering who I am and what truly makes me tick. I, admittedly, spend a lot of time and energy focused on what others think, and I get lost somewhere in that. Rather than pursuing my passions and even the simple things that ought to be getting done, I become consumed with viewing photos, updating my profile, and putting myself in the best light. I get online just hoping that someone will see me and talk to me, hoping for connection.
I'm not saying connection is a bad thing. But being consumed by it is. How will I ever find myself in God if I'm constantly digging myself into a never-ending hole, searching for the fulfillment that comes from human interaction? How will I hear Him speak if I'm inundated with blips and beeps and quacks from facebook, gchat, and adium?
It's a lot to think about, a lot to consider, and by nature, these questions will lead me deeper into contemplation. Now is a good time. I'm in Texas, and I have free time in the evenings that I didn't have in Ann Arbor, simply because I'm new. Nobody has figured out that I can't say no yet.
Just the idea of throwing my security to the wind and moving down here made me question myself -- it proved that I'm capable of a lot more than I sometimes think. Who knew?
I tried something new...
...today. I wore yellow.
My mom, if she saw me, would be shocked. Despite her urging, I've put up a fight against all shades of yellow for years and years. It didn't matter whether it was mustard, saffron, lemon, or (being a good former Ann Arbor girl) maize. I wasn't wearing it. She claimed that it would play off my blonde hair (psh), and I countered that it just wasn't a good color for me.
Then I went shopping on Friday, and found a cute, well-fitting top that just happened to be buttery-yellow. I took it to the fitting room, expecting to be disappointed (although, if you expect disappointment, can you really say that you're disappointed?). Foolish me -- I love the top. It's still not my best color, but who can be grumpy when you're wearing such a sunshiny hue?
In other news, and a funny story, my need for my cell phone was legitimatized this weekend during a shopping excursion up to Pearland. When there's no toilet paper in your bathroom stall, and the rest of the place is empty, desperate times call for desperate text messages -- and laughing friends.
Finally, a third unrelated topic: I wish the time hadn't changed this weekend -- or ever. I had just gotten adjusted to Central time, and was thrust back an hour in the other direction. I'm sleepy today, but in good spirits.
My mom, if she saw me, would be shocked. Despite her urging, I've put up a fight against all shades of yellow for years and years. It didn't matter whether it was mustard, saffron, lemon, or (being a good former Ann Arbor girl) maize. I wasn't wearing it. She claimed that it would play off my blonde hair (psh), and I countered that it just wasn't a good color for me.
Then I went shopping on Friday, and found a cute, well-fitting top that just happened to be buttery-yellow. I took it to the fitting room, expecting to be disappointed (although, if you expect disappointment, can you really say that you're disappointed?). Foolish me -- I love the top. It's still not my best color, but who can be grumpy when you're wearing such a sunshiny hue?
In other news, and a funny story, my need for my cell phone was legitimatized this weekend during a shopping excursion up to Pearland. When there's no toilet paper in your bathroom stall, and the rest of the place is empty, desperate times call for desperate text messages -- and laughing friends.
Finally, a third unrelated topic: I wish the time hadn't changed this weekend -- or ever. I had just gotten adjusted to Central time, and was thrust back an hour in the other direction. I'm sleepy today, but in good spirits.
Friday, March 6, 2009
It feels as though...
...I've been in Texas for ages, and not just the two weeks it truly has been. This past week has been fun, exhausting and frustrating, sometimes independently and sometimes in combination.
Sunday I left for Austin, ready for three days of training. The drive was a little over three hours, and pleasant enough. I saw some more of the Texan countryside -- very few hills, and a whole lot of cows. Upon arrival, our first order of business was to mingle, and eat. The five of us flanking one end of a table quickly deemed it the "fun table," encouraged by two bottles of wine and the clamor of personality.
The five of us pretty much stuck together throughout the rest of training -- a casual wine and cheese party after dinner (enter the nerdiness), trivia night at Fado, an Irish pub downtown (we didn't come in last, and that's all that mattered -- we aim high!), and "family dinner" at a really expensive sushi place (oops, and yummmm).
Training was informative, and really helpful for me, but loooong. One session was four hours, straight through, with just a five-minute bathroom break in the middle. In any case, I returned ready to hit the ground running. Yesterday morning I described myself to Stephanie, the United Way director, as a windup toy cranked up and ready to roll.
Apparently, though, I should have been more cautious. I hit a wall on Thursday, built in part by my own brashness and in part by others' resistance. It's a complicated issue, and it makes me wonder what exactly my role is down here. I guess I don't know yet -- I'm not sure when I'll know -- and that bothers me. I hate feeling useless, feeling that I can't really take any initiative, can't start moving toward the changes that need to be made.
It's going to be an interesting year, that's for certain. I went shopping today to blow off some steam. Jorge got a stylish new tote to travel in, and I got some skirts and tops for the warm days now and to come.
And when I need a break, I'll be in Galveston to visit Maggie, Luke, and Denver (and Paul, if he comes down). And, of course, they're all invited to the pool house to play Trivial Pursuit -- once it gets here. Madre mailed it out today, per the request of my crazy Gulf coast friends. Who knows, maybe next time we go to pub trivia night, we'll not only not come in last, we'll rock it out like nobody has ever seen.
Much love from Texas.
Sunday I left for Austin, ready for three days of training. The drive was a little over three hours, and pleasant enough. I saw some more of the Texan countryside -- very few hills, and a whole lot of cows. Upon arrival, our first order of business was to mingle, and eat. The five of us flanking one end of a table quickly deemed it the "fun table," encouraged by two bottles of wine and the clamor of personality.
The five of us pretty much stuck together throughout the rest of training -- a casual wine and cheese party after dinner (enter the nerdiness), trivia night at Fado, an Irish pub downtown (we didn't come in last, and that's all that mattered -- we aim high!), and "family dinner" at a really expensive sushi place (oops, and yummmm).
Training was informative, and really helpful for me, but loooong. One session was four hours, straight through, with just a five-minute bathroom break in the middle. In any case, I returned ready to hit the ground running. Yesterday morning I described myself to Stephanie, the United Way director, as a windup toy cranked up and ready to roll.
Apparently, though, I should have been more cautious. I hit a wall on Thursday, built in part by my own brashness and in part by others' resistance. It's a complicated issue, and it makes me wonder what exactly my role is down here. I guess I don't know yet -- I'm not sure when I'll know -- and that bothers me. I hate feeling useless, feeling that I can't really take any initiative, can't start moving toward the changes that need to be made.
It's going to be an interesting year, that's for certain. I went shopping today to blow off some steam. Jorge got a stylish new tote to travel in, and I got some skirts and tops for the warm days now and to come.
And when I need a break, I'll be in Galveston to visit Maggie, Luke, and Denver (and Paul, if he comes down). And, of course, they're all invited to the pool house to play Trivial Pursuit -- once it gets here. Madre mailed it out today, per the request of my crazy Gulf coast friends. Who knows, maybe next time we go to pub trivia night, we'll not only not come in last, we'll rock it out like nobody has ever seen.
Much love from Texas.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
There are certain times that you come...
...to a crossroads, and you have to pick which direction to go. I'll be honest...I'm not there. Not at that crossroads. But on the very slim chance that I end up there, I have to decide now. I know myself, and I'm far too susceptible to the feelings of the moment to determine my fate in real time. My job is about preparedness, and it's a message I must take to heart.
{Yay for totally vague, moderately random posts!}
{Yay for totally vague, moderately random posts!}