Within the last year or so, my entire immediate family (which is basically a small village, if a small village had only five inhabitants) has gotten way into running. My brothers both run high school cross country, my mom has 3+ triathlons under her belt, my dad runs 5k races like a madman and my little sister is training for a half marathon. I have taken the role of slightly-out-of-shape-but-highly-enthusiastic cheerleader/photographer/cowbell ringer. Truly, I wish I could be inspired to athletic greatness and join the Fab 5, but I'm still waiting for legs of iron and the stamina of a gazelle. We'll see.
I am, however, good at a different kind of running. Running away. Okay, no, I have never packed a backpack of supplies and peaced out from home (though my siblings and I used to dress up as Indians and hike the wide lonesome prairie of our neighborhood streets). But I hate to deal with conflict, pain, and decisions. Who doesn't, amirite? So I run away from it. I'm all "Ooooohh look at all that baggage on the side of the road! Not mine, suckahs!!" And the thing is, I have been pretty convinced I could keep running forever and ignore some pretty big stuff and it would all go away. Disappear behind a hill or a curve in the road. Hm. Wouldn't that be nice.
As luck would have it, this season of waiting is quickly becoming a season of growth. Funny how I make major plans to take charge and God's all like "Woahwoahwoahwoah... Nice try." Running is getting hard, I'm winded, and there is a subtle (but growing) pull to stop. Turn around. Face the music. UM, HELLO. NO THANK YOU. But a still, small voice is saying "Trust Me on this one." I really can't ignore it. There is a rebellious part of my soul that is certain I can continue. Don't look back! it cries. Keep running, because stopping might hurt. But deeper down, in my gut, I know the truth of the matter: In order to grow, it is imperative to work through the hard stuff, instead of trying to run from it. I have been so focused on sprinting away from difficulty, I lost track of the race towards eternal glory (no, not the Olympic medal kind. The 1 Corinthians kind).
Jesus never promised as easy road. He didn't guarantee a life free from hurts. He DID, however, promise that anything we endure is not pointless, mindless or meant to injure. Rather, difficult circumstances (and the sometimes painful growing that comes from them) is a refining fire meant to leave us brand spankin' new, and of better use to the Kingdom for which we live.
With that in mind, I'm slowing down. Doubled over, totally out of breath, and letting that fire consume me. It might hurt like a mofo. It might be surprisingly easy. Who knows? But I do know I'm not in this alone. So thank God for that. Literally.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Thursday, September 13, 2012
It's all right, cause I'm saved by the bell. (da-nuh-da-na-nuh-nuh!)
I think it's only fair to be honest and tell you that the thing occupying the bulk of my downtime is not crafting, or reading, or intelligent conversations or baking. No. It's "Saved by the Bell". Yes, that classic Saturday morning show about floating through high school in the hip, happenin' nineties that is now available to the wide world via the magical cave of procrastination known as Netflix. I'm on Season 4 and I've only been at it for a week. I don't know whether to be impressed or mortified.
Either way, I love it. And I'm realizing with every twenty-minute episode how much this sublime showcase of teen life has impacted our current society. And so I present to you: The Things That Originated With Saved By The Bell.
The original frat tank: A.C. Slater. I mean his were tighter than the typical Greek member of 2012 prefers, but bicep-revealing tanks in a rainbow of hues are as cool now as they were when Mario Lopez had a mullet-fro.
The original hipster: Tori Spelling guest starring as Screech's nerdy lady friend, Violet. Seriously, y'all, my mind was blown on, like, three different levels when I 1) recognized Tori Spelling and 2) saw that she was wearing a dress that is totally vintage hipster-chic by today's standards and could ABSOLUTELY be hanging in the Urban Outfitters store window right now.
The original "Glee": Oh it's true. I took away all of Ryan Murphey's creativity points for "Glee" after I watched the Season 4 episode aptly entitled "The Glee Club" in which a group of attractive jocks (the show regulars) join a sad group of nerds (the glee club) and they magically find one nerdy break-out star (Rachel Berry... I mean Tori Spelling) and THEY WINNATIONALS THE ALL-CITY SING!
The original Bella Swan: Kelly Kapowski. Maybe this is an unfair accusation, but Kel-girl spends at least two seasons moaning about how she can't pick between Slater and Zack. I'M OVER IT, KELLY. Granted, neither of the boys are mythical creatures, but Kelly cinches the comparison with a K. Stu-esque lack of personality and long brown hair. Come on. Try to tell me I'm wrong.
The original Louis Stephens: Screech Powers. Please tell me to my face that the guys at Disney (who, interestingly, owned the rights to SBTB for a season or two) didn't all but carbon copy Shia LeBouf's "Even Stephens" character from good old Screech. They even kind of dressed the same. And had the same hair. And made nerdy losers seem like the most adorable creatures on the planet.
The original giant bow in your hair (though you are not, in fact, six): Jessie Spano. Headbands, bows, giant flowers, she's got 'em. And she makes them look effortlessly classy. I am incredibly impressed. Well done, Miss Spano. (She also rocks the high-waisted jeans like a p-r-o. Jealous.)
The original Gossip Girl: Lisa Turtle. Except she's way nicer, way more lovable, and way less Michelle Trachtenberg. Still, Lisa knows everything (see the KKTY episode) and uses her power when necessary (see the 1-900 episode). Oh, and she's a fabulous dresser.
The original (and only) love of my life: Zack Morris. I die. I also ignore the fact that I'm basically in love with a sixteen-year-old nineties heartthrob who is now approaching 40 and is probably way less attractive than he was as a Bayside Tiger. But... he's just... so cute. And sassy. And perfect. So, if you're not a tall, skinny troublemaker with perfectly coiffed blonde hair and a wink that knocks the ladies off their feet, don't bother knocking on my door.
Either way, I love it. And I'm realizing with every twenty-minute episode how much this sublime showcase of teen life has impacted our current society. And so I present to you: The Things That Originated With Saved By The Bell.
The original frat tank: A.C. Slater. I mean his were tighter than the typical Greek member of 2012 prefers, but bicep-revealing tanks in a rainbow of hues are as cool now as they were when Mario Lopez had a mullet-fro.
The original hipster: Tori Spelling guest starring as Screech's nerdy lady friend, Violet. Seriously, y'all, my mind was blown on, like, three different levels when I 1) recognized Tori Spelling and 2) saw that she was wearing a dress that is totally vintage hipster-chic by today's standards and could ABSOLUTELY be hanging in the Urban Outfitters store window right now.
The original "Glee": Oh it's true. I took away all of Ryan Murphey's creativity points for "Glee" after I watched the Season 4 episode aptly entitled "The Glee Club" in which a group of attractive jocks (the show regulars) join a sad group of nerds (the glee club) and they magically find one nerdy break-out star (Rachel Berry... I mean Tori Spelling) and THEY WIN
The original Bella Swan: Kelly Kapowski. Maybe this is an unfair accusation, but Kel-girl spends at least two seasons moaning about how she can't pick between Slater and Zack. I'M OVER IT, KELLY. Granted, neither of the boys are mythical creatures, but Kelly cinches the comparison with a K. Stu-esque lack of personality and long brown hair. Come on. Try to tell me I'm wrong.
The original Louis Stephens: Screech Powers. Please tell me to my face that the guys at Disney (who, interestingly, owned the rights to SBTB for a season or two) didn't all but carbon copy Shia LeBouf's "Even Stephens" character from good old Screech. They even kind of dressed the same. And had the same hair. And made nerdy losers seem like the most adorable creatures on the planet.
The original giant bow in your hair (though you are not, in fact, six): Jessie Spano. Headbands, bows, giant flowers, she's got 'em. And she makes them look effortlessly classy. I am incredibly impressed. Well done, Miss Spano. (She also rocks the high-waisted jeans like a p-r-o. Jealous.)
The original Gossip Girl: Lisa Turtle. Except she's way nicer, way more lovable, and way less Michelle Trachtenberg. Still, Lisa knows everything (see the KKTY episode) and uses her power when necessary (see the 1-900 episode). Oh, and she's a fabulous dresser.
The original (and only) love of my life: Zack Morris. I die. I also ignore the fact that I'm basically in love with a sixteen-year-old nineties heartthrob who is now approaching 40 and is probably way less attractive than he was as a Bayside Tiger. But... he's just... so cute. And sassy. And perfect. So, if you're not a tall, skinny troublemaker with perfectly coiffed blonde hair and a wink that knocks the ladies off their feet, don't bother knocking on my door.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
On panicking, art and baristas.
Oh, sweet, sweet fall. This morning I am sitting on the back deck wrapped in a Snuggie (like a star, thanks) enjoying an actual chill in the air. Hello, life, you are perfect today.
So this week brought with it a panic attack, a new book, art and a job. The latter three are utterly ideal, the first less so.
1) Panic attack. I never do anything halfsies. I'm definitely more of an all-or-nothing breed of human, especially when it comes to any kind of emotional state. This week, that took form in a super subtle (but altogether time consuming) I-don't-have-a-plan-WHAT-IS-MY-LIFE?! nervous breakdown. Okay, I'm exaggerating. It wasn't a breakdown. But I'm trying this new thing where I, you know, check in with God and let Him fix me, which (let me tell you) is turning out to be no joyride. I mean bring on the life lessons and changes of heart, Big Guy, but this road is bumpy and I will need plenty of help.
2) New Book. To offset the panic, I got a treat. My friend Lexie mentioned last week that I remind her of Catherine Morland, the heroine of Northanger Abbey. I figured I might as well meet my novel doppleganger, and I had a giftcard to Barne's and Noble anyway, so I went to pick up the prettiest copy available and am deliciously excited to curl up with tea and get lost for the next few weeks.
3) Art. If we are being 100% honest, we can all admit that Kansas City is not the most hip location on the planet. I mean, it's the midwest. HOWEVER. There are hip things about Kansas City, and I was certainly a part of them last night. ie: First Fridays, Westport art show, and McCoy's. Which basically translates to: art galleries, free wine, live music, local art vendors, lots of hipsters, raspberry beer, and a few more hipsters.
4) A job. More specifically, a job that makes the very short list of "Dream Jobs", which makes it freaking awesome. Yes, friends, I am going to be a barista at a KC-based coffee joint and it will be the bomb. I am legitimately dying of excitement. Because, really, baristas are the coolest people. Right? They are always peppy, always kind, always give you coffee. Seriously. The best. To be part of that group of top-notch individuals makes me giddy. Come get coffee from me.
So this week brought with it a panic attack, a new book, art and a job. The latter three are utterly ideal, the first less so.
1) Panic attack. I never do anything halfsies. I'm definitely more of an all-or-nothing breed of human, especially when it comes to any kind of emotional state. This week, that took form in a super subtle (but altogether time consuming) I-don't-have-a-plan-WHAT-IS-MY-LIFE?! nervous breakdown. Okay, I'm exaggerating. It wasn't a breakdown. But I'm trying this new thing where I, you know, check in with God and let Him fix me, which (let me tell you) is turning out to be no joyride. I mean bring on the life lessons and changes of heart, Big Guy, but this road is bumpy and I will need plenty of help.
2) New Book. To offset the panic, I got a treat. My friend Lexie mentioned last week that I remind her of Catherine Morland, the heroine of Northanger Abbey. I figured I might as well meet my novel doppleganger, and I had a giftcard to Barne's and Noble anyway, so I went to pick up the prettiest copy available and am deliciously excited to curl up with tea and get lost for the next few weeks.
3) Art. If we are being 100% honest, we can all admit that Kansas City is not the most hip location on the planet. I mean, it's the midwest. HOWEVER. There are hip things about Kansas City, and I was certainly a part of them last night. ie: First Fridays, Westport art show, and McCoy's. Which basically translates to: art galleries, free wine, live music, local art vendors, lots of hipsters, raspberry beer, and a few more hipsters.
4) A job. More specifically, a job that makes the very short list of "Dream Jobs", which makes it freaking awesome. Yes, friends, I am going to be a barista at a KC-based coffee joint and it will be the bomb. I am legitimately dying of excitement. Because, really, baristas are the coolest people. Right? They are always peppy, always kind, always give you coffee. Seriously. The best. To be part of that group of top-notch individuals makes me giddy. Come get coffee from me.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Top Ten Ways to Make Fall Festive
HAPPY SEPTEMBER, FRIENDS! (A shout out to those of you who are boarding the Hogwarts Express today, or wish you were). While it's true that the official first day of fall is a few weeks away, I like to get the season started as early as possible. Fall is, by far, the most anticipated season in my book. Isn't it true that people start daydreaming about scarves, sweaters and Pumpkin Spice Lattes in, like, August? Fall is the bomb. And, though busier than summer (unless you are, as I am, a super chill post-grad), there are ways to enjoy the season to the absolute fullest. For example:
1) Find a favorite coffee shop. As it begins to get colder, you will need to know where to go for any of the following activities: early morning latte, afternoon latte, dinner latte, coffee date, study corner.
2) Discover some fall jamz. Every season needs a playlist. For fall, try something chill and artsy. Mumford and Sons is always an option, but my favorite rainy/cold/snowy day music option is good old Frank Sinatra. Also Irish music. Weird?
3) Procure, by whatever means necessary, the perfect pair of jeans. I don't know about the more manly gender, but as a lady, finding great jeans is akin to hunting down a needle in a haystack in a snowstorm while a rock concert is going on. But some rockin' denim that will last you for the next six months is invaluable. You will wear them all the time, and the better you feel in them, the more it will show.
4) Go to something crazy, like Irish Fest. Fall festivals are the greatest. Google fall events in your city and pick a couple to check out. My personal favorites from the last few years have been the Irish Fest (Okay, I actually haven't gone yet but I plan to) and Sock it to Satan (real talk: I went. It was the greatest Halloween-meets-Jesus church event in the history of the world).
5) That Pinterest craft you put off all summer? Yeah, do that. Now is the time, folks. Carpe diem.
6) The PUMPKIN PATCH. The pumpkin patch has it all: an ideal photo shoot location, probably a hayride, definitely pumpkins. Hello, a perfect Saturday of family bonding.
7) Make a list of your favorite fall soups. Post it on the fridge for easy reference, then use it often. Yum. Try at least three new recipes this fall, more if you're feeling like June Cleaver.
8) Rake leaves with your best friends. It was a chore when we were kids, but now it's freaking fun. Make it happen. Drink tea afterwards. Leaf pile optional.
9) Pick a really killer devotional. It's fall... the time of schedules and checklists. Make daily JC-time part of that. Because lattes and Jesus is the closest thing to perfection on this side of the sun.
10) Cuddle up in a giant sweater. Have you ever spent the morning on the couch reading or knitting or just looking out the window? Best. Fall. Activity. Ever.
Well there it is, friends. Happy Saturday, Happy Fall, Happy Life.
1) Find a favorite coffee shop. As it begins to get colder, you will need to know where to go for any of the following activities: early morning latte, afternoon latte, dinner latte, coffee date, study corner.
2) Discover some fall jamz. Every season needs a playlist. For fall, try something chill and artsy. Mumford and Sons is always an option, but my favorite rainy/cold/snowy day music option is good old Frank Sinatra. Also Irish music. Weird?
3) Procure, by whatever means necessary, the perfect pair of jeans. I don't know about the more manly gender, but as a lady, finding great jeans is akin to hunting down a needle in a haystack in a snowstorm while a rock concert is going on. But some rockin' denim that will last you for the next six months is invaluable. You will wear them all the time, and the better you feel in them, the more it will show.
4) Go to something crazy, like Irish Fest. Fall festivals are the greatest. Google fall events in your city and pick a couple to check out. My personal favorites from the last few years have been the Irish Fest (Okay, I actually haven't gone yet but I plan to) and Sock it to Satan (real talk: I went. It was the greatest Halloween-meets-Jesus church event in the history of the world).
5) That Pinterest craft you put off all summer? Yeah, do that. Now is the time, folks. Carpe diem.
6) The PUMPKIN PATCH. The pumpkin patch has it all: an ideal photo shoot location, probably a hayride, definitely pumpkins. Hello, a perfect Saturday of family bonding.
7) Make a list of your favorite fall soups. Post it on the fridge for easy reference, then use it often. Yum. Try at least three new recipes this fall, more if you're feeling like June Cleaver.
8) Rake leaves with your best friends. It was a chore when we were kids, but now it's freaking fun. Make it happen. Drink tea afterwards. Leaf pile optional.
9) Pick a really killer devotional. It's fall... the time of schedules and checklists. Make daily JC-time part of that. Because lattes and Jesus is the closest thing to perfection on this side of the sun.
10) Cuddle up in a giant sweater. Have you ever spent the morning on the couch reading or knitting or just looking out the window? Best. Fall. Activity. Ever.
Well there it is, friends. Happy Saturday, Happy Fall, Happy Life.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Chill out. Plant a garden.
The prospect of spending four (or so) months in a town totally devoid of people my age while working like mad to make enough money to move to greener pastures is, at times, nothing short of daunting. Don't get me wrong. I love home. It safe, cozy and special. However, when one has got the adventure bug and feels 100% stuck by a lack of post-grad funds, home can feel like a cage. This next chapter can be adequately summed up in the following four words: crafts, books, children, and self-improvment. Because, well, I'm trying my hardest to make the best out of an unplanned situation.
Has that ever happened to you? Have you made a plan, only to watch it disappear in the time it takes a mechanic to say "Oh, that'll be a $600 repair."? It's hard, man. Hard to feel like life won't really start until my zip code changes. Not that that is necessarily true, but that's sure what it feels like. I imagine this feeling is similar to the sentiments of the Israelite leaders when they were in exile in Babylon. Totally stuck, and totally removed from what their hearts wanted to be doing. It was to this group of disgruntled royals, etc. that the prophet Jeremiah wrote the following words:
This is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper...I will come to you and fulfill my good promise to bring you back to this place. For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the Lord.
Okay, I'm not going to get married and plant a garden. But I do think the sentiment of the words is applicable to being stuck in the middle of the United States when my heart is in Tennessee. Here is my CliffNotes version of that scripture:
God says: "Look, folks, you're in Babylon, so find something good about it and relax. I have a plan that is a little beyond you right now, but that does not mean I have left you behind or forgotten about you. Keep praying and hold on, because what I have in store is the bomb. Seek hard for me, and you will find me. I promise."
Hello, the most comforting thing in the world. Eternal perspective is eternally difficult to focus on sometimes most of the time, but the truth of the matter is that God's plan does not always line up with ours. His is the one that will prevail, though, so all we can do is relax and trust. No matter how stuck you or I feel, we have not been let behind by a God who is too busy with other things. He's just working out a plan that we can't see yet.
With that in mind, I have a laundry list of things to do this fall:
1) Work, work, work. (Between selling over-priced children's clothes, babysitting and the church nursery, it will be a parade of babies, which is not the worst way to earn money.)
2) Craft my heart out. (Post-grad free time, WHAT UP. Also, crafting is an outlet for daydreaming about my sweet Nashvegas apartment.)
3) Read books that will inspire. (Starting with Jane Austen.)
4) Earnestly seek Jesus, and in doing so become better fit for the next chapter.
Bring it on, Lord. I'm ready.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
These are a few of my favorite things.
Cool fall mornings
Lattes
Bright blue pools
New sunglasses
Reading a really good part of a really good book
Drummers
Driving down a beautiful highway
Leaves sparkling in a setting sun
Bonfires
Summer nights
Early, misty mornings
Quiet corners
A favorite song on the radio
The Olympics
Witty banter
Europe
Rejuvenating naps
Slanted sunlight
Applause at the end of a performance
Gerber daisies
Really tight harmonies
Kittens
Incredibly cute babies
Bay windows
Bookstores
Sometimes, completely out of nowhere, I am struck by unmistakable beauty in something incredibly simple. Earlier this spring it was the vibrant green leaves of a tree on my walk home, which contrasted sharply with the gray sky above it. On a crisp fall day, it's the warmth and comfort of a latte. There are things, moments and places in the world, different for each of us, that bring joy and a smile whenever we come across them. It's almost as if little hand-wrapped packages, designed individually and with great care, are just waiting to be found, if we will take a moment and look.
P.S. I was thinking about that song in The Sound of Music earlier, and realized that I absolutely agree with Julie Andrews' entire list of favorite things. Except maybe the schnitzel. Still, we could be best friends probably.
Lattes
Bright blue pools
New sunglasses
Reading a really good part of a really good book
Drummers
Driving down a beautiful highway
Leaves sparkling in a setting sun
Bonfires
Summer nights
Early, misty mornings
Quiet corners
A favorite song on the radio
The Olympics
Witty banter
Europe
Rejuvenating naps
Slanted sunlight
Applause at the end of a performance
Gerber daisies
Really tight harmonies
Kittens
Incredibly cute babies
Bay windows
Bookstores
Sometimes, completely out of nowhere, I am struck by unmistakable beauty in something incredibly simple. Earlier this spring it was the vibrant green leaves of a tree on my walk home, which contrasted sharply with the gray sky above it. On a crisp fall day, it's the warmth and comfort of a latte. There are things, moments and places in the world, different for each of us, that bring joy and a smile whenever we come across them. It's almost as if little hand-wrapped packages, designed individually and with great care, are just waiting to be found, if we will take a moment and look.
P.S. I was thinking about that song in The Sound of Music earlier, and realized that I absolutely agree with Julie Andrews' entire list of favorite things. Except maybe the schnitzel. Still, we could be best friends probably.
Monday, August 6, 2012
The Star Wars box.
As I am now an independent post-grad, the parents have requested that I clear out the bulk of stuff that has been hogging closet space in the room that is officially no longer mine. A long process, for sure, and one that is maybe meant for a more organized mind than mine, but it must be done. And can I just tell you how amusing this job has been so far?? Real talk, friends, I forgot a lot of things about the little girl who wanted to dance for the New York City Ballet and wrote a detailed book about training to be a Jedi. I had also forgotten about the ever-so-slightly dramatic teenager who filled notebook after notebook with stories, journals and big plans.
The best find was a plastic bin filled with magazines, books, puzzles, and (I kid you not) cereal boxes that had one thing in common: they were Star Wars themed. Friends, this is no joke. There was a 3ish year period in which I drooled over anything and everything from George Lucas' universe. There may or may not have been a hand-crafted lightsaber (which looked strangely like a giant tree branch) involved.
Going through all that stuff, being back home in familiar haunts, and spending time with old faces brings a certain amount of nostalgia. I've said jokingly a few times, "Thank GOD we grew up!" But seriously, thank God I grew up. As I look over my shoulder at the headstrong dreamer who had designs on B-way and worldwide fame, I am eternally grateful that God said "Woah, woah, woah, crazy lady. Try again." Then He put the brakes on a million more plans and showed me new ones.
In Ephesians, Paul writes "Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think." BUT SERIOUSLY THOUGH. Praise God, who 1) has a brilliant plan for us and 2) is constantly changing our heartbeats to match His. If one is willing to listen, God can slowly change the tune of your heart so that it is perfectly in sync with His plan. Coolest? COOLEST. Certainly hard to swallow at times, but as I remember the girl I used to be, I am nothing but thankful for the changes that I have put me where I am now. Somebody was looking out for me in a big way. The journey is far, far from over, but I have great hope for the rest.
I showed my little brother my Star Wars collection. He was all, "Wow, Raych. That's SUPER cool."
The best find was a plastic bin filled with magazines, books, puzzles, and (I kid you not) cereal boxes that had one thing in common: they were Star Wars themed. Friends, this is no joke. There was a 3ish year period in which I drooled over anything and everything from George Lucas' universe. There may or may not have been a hand-crafted lightsaber (which looked strangely like a giant tree branch) involved.
Going through all that stuff, being back home in familiar haunts, and spending time with old faces brings a certain amount of nostalgia. I've said jokingly a few times, "Thank GOD we grew up!" But seriously, thank God I grew up. As I look over my shoulder at the headstrong dreamer who had designs on B-way and worldwide fame, I am eternally grateful that God said "Woah, woah, woah, crazy lady. Try again." Then He put the brakes on a million more plans and showed me new ones.
In Ephesians, Paul writes "Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think." BUT SERIOUSLY THOUGH. Praise God, who 1) has a brilliant plan for us and 2) is constantly changing our heartbeats to match His. If one is willing to listen, God can slowly change the tune of your heart so that it is perfectly in sync with His plan. Coolest? COOLEST. Certainly hard to swallow at times, but as I remember the girl I used to be, I am nothing but thankful for the changes that I have put me where I am now. Somebody was looking out for me in a big way. The journey is far, far from over, but I have great hope for the rest.
I showed my little brother my Star Wars collection. He was all, "Wow, Raych. That's SUPER cool."
Thursday, August 2, 2012
See ya, Texas.
There are a million things I should be doing today (real talk, though, the list is outta this world long), but instead I am sitting down to reminisce. Because, man, I miss Texas. The gigantic jewelry, the cowboy hats, the abrasive trucks, the oppressive heat, the precious people that have become family. Knowing that it could be a year before I see it all again makes me want to crank up some Miranda Lambert and sing the blues away.
There has never been a point in the last four years that I considered myself to be a Texas girl. I always claimed to be a Midwesterner who was making a pit-stop in the Lone Star State in order to earn a degree. However, as I watched the Fort Worth skyline get smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror Monday afternoon, I felt a genuine pang of homesickness. Like it or not, Texas stole a piece of my heart.
BUT ENOUGH SAP. I could go on. I will not. Instead, I will, with great fondness, remember the people who made the last four years what they were. And I actually will miss them a bundle.
1) The security guys at the Villas. One of them always played Solitaire, one of them always threw up a Horned Frog at whoever drove through the gate. Both had a precious smiles and a kind word, no matter how late it was.
2) Betty. Betty looked to be at least in her eighties and had the sweetest face in the world. She rolled her little cleaning cart around the back of the BLUU like a pro and always seemed so content at her work.
3) That guy who always gave me a free latte at the bookstore. Never failed to put a smile on my face, and he seemed to be working on any given day I happened to really really need some sunshine.
4) Mr. Cheng. I only took his ballet class for two years, but will remember that moment that he came to class in a goblin mask forever.
5) The lady who worked at the Corner Store, and called everyone "Hun", "Baby", "Sweetheart" and "Doll" to the point that you couldn't help but feel like she 1) had known you forever and 2) loved you like her own child.
6) The Provost. Who else can say they had a sassy Scotsman as the Vice President of their university? Everything about that man was adorable.
7) The people at China Jade. Who made the best fried rice ever, always gave us a student discount, and were too perfectly Asian for words.
8) Cute Physics Boy. 4evah.
As one chapter closes and another begins, I'm just throwing this out there: my heart is full. Every sappy country lyric about loving the land and each other and drinking beer and blah blah blah will forever remind me of you, Fort Worth.
There has never been a point in the last four years that I considered myself to be a Texas girl. I always claimed to be a Midwesterner who was making a pit-stop in the Lone Star State in order to earn a degree. However, as I watched the Fort Worth skyline get smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror Monday afternoon, I felt a genuine pang of homesickness. Like it or not, Texas stole a piece of my heart.
BUT ENOUGH SAP. I could go on. I will not. Instead, I will, with great fondness, remember the people who made the last four years what they were. And I actually will miss them a bundle.
1) The security guys at the Villas. One of them always played Solitaire, one of them always threw up a Horned Frog at whoever drove through the gate. Both had a precious smiles and a kind word, no matter how late it was.
2) Betty. Betty looked to be at least in her eighties and had the sweetest face in the world. She rolled her little cleaning cart around the back of the BLUU like a pro and always seemed so content at her work.
3) That guy who always gave me a free latte at the bookstore. Never failed to put a smile on my face, and he seemed to be working on any given day I happened to really really need some sunshine.
4) Mr. Cheng. I only took his ballet class for two years, but will remember that moment that he came to class in a goblin mask forever.
5) The lady who worked at the Corner Store, and called everyone "Hun", "Baby", "Sweetheart" and "Doll" to the point that you couldn't help but feel like she 1) had known you forever and 2) loved you like her own child.
6) The Provost. Who else can say they had a sassy Scotsman as the Vice President of their university? Everything about that man was adorable.
7) The people at China Jade. Who made the best fried rice ever, always gave us a student discount, and were too perfectly Asian for words.
8) Cute Physics Boy. 4evah.
As one chapter closes and another begins, I'm just throwing this out there: my heart is full. Every sappy country lyric about loving the land and each other and drinking beer and blah blah blah will forever remind me of you, Fort Worth.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
How to Make People Think You Are a Hipster.
Here's the thing. I am not a hipster. I secretly wish I was, and I totally emulate hipster fashion cues like a pro, but I am super mainstream and 100% okay with it. I do, however, like to think that I have figured out how to make people think I am the most bohemian hipster princess on the planet. It takes a certain amount of skill, this fooling the great wide world into thinking I'm cooler than I actually am, and now my secrets are yours. Enjoy.
1) Wear a lot of plaid. This is, I believe, the cardinal rule of being a hipster. Plaid is appropriate for all seasons, so don't shy away from that flannel goodness in the summer. Just wear high-waisted jorts and sandals.
2) Shop at Thrift Town, or whatever thrift store is nearest you. Even if you buy a party tank and a cat sweatshirt, saying "I got this at Thrift ____" will make your Hipstar-meter skyrocket.
3) Drink coffee that you didn't get at Starbucks, preferably with soy milk. It's even cooler to have a favorite coffee shop or two that you frequent to the point you learn the names of the baristas.
4) Scarves and headbands. The number one hipster fashion accessory. Can be worn in six trillion different ways. Classy hipsters might choose to wear a scarf as a turban, hippie hipsters will always rock the super-seventies across-the-forehead headband. You know which one I am.
5) If you have a Pinterest, re-pin everything your hipster friends post. Everyone else who follows you will think you are so creative and cutting edge for finding that DIY vintage mason jar craft.
6) If your mother gives you an old sweatshirt, wear it with skinny jeans and call it a one-of-a-kind vintage piece.
7) Be bold. Fact: No one has to know you are not really a devil-may-care hipster rockstar. Pick something funky you like, and rock it like the hip, happenin' cat you are. You will be surprised at 1) how many compliments you get and 2) how hip you feel.
8) Have just enough singer/songwriter music on your iPod to make people think that's all you listen to. What they don't know is that you also have A*Teens, High School Musical, and the Brian Setzer Orchestra on there.
9) Mix and match. Get CRAZY. If it's too much, someone will tell you. Until they do, see just how out of the box you can go. It's kinda fun.
10) Don't talk about how much you love hipsters.
1) Wear a lot of plaid. This is, I believe, the cardinal rule of being a hipster. Plaid is appropriate for all seasons, so don't shy away from that flannel goodness in the summer. Just wear high-waisted jorts and sandals.
2) Shop at Thrift Town, or whatever thrift store is nearest you. Even if you buy a party tank and a cat sweatshirt, saying "I got this at Thrift ____" will make your Hipstar-meter skyrocket.
3) Drink coffee that you didn't get at Starbucks, preferably with soy milk. It's even cooler to have a favorite coffee shop or two that you frequent to the point you learn the names of the baristas.
4) Scarves and headbands. The number one hipster fashion accessory. Can be worn in six trillion different ways. Classy hipsters might choose to wear a scarf as a turban, hippie hipsters will always rock the super-seventies across-the-forehead headband. You know which one I am.
5) If you have a Pinterest, re-pin everything your hipster friends post. Everyone else who follows you will think you are so creative and cutting edge for finding that DIY vintage mason jar craft.
6) If your mother gives you an old sweatshirt, wear it with skinny jeans and call it a one-of-a-kind vintage piece.
7) Be bold. Fact: No one has to know you are not really a devil-may-care hipster rockstar. Pick something funky you like, and rock it like the hip, happenin' cat you are. You will be surprised at 1) how many compliments you get and 2) how hip you feel.
8) Have just enough singer/songwriter music on your iPod to make people think that's all you listen to. What they don't know is that you also have A*Teens, High School Musical, and the Brian Setzer Orchestra on there.
9) Mix and match. Get CRAZY. If it's too much, someone will tell you. Until they do, see just how out of the box you can go. It's kinda fun.
10) Don't talk about how much you love hipsters.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
The Big If.
The only things in life that are guaranteed are death and taxes.
And marriage. If you have grown up (as I have) in a Christian home in the Bible Belt with happily married parents, it is just assumed that, at some point, you will tie the knot with a sexy, Jesus-lovin' sweetie. Obviously not everyone grows up looking forward to marriage, but I know I'm speaking for a pretty big group of people, here. I mean, HELLO, do you keep up with people's Pinterest boards these days? Fourteen-year-olds have wedding boards and some of my best friends are posting helpful hints for marriage. My single friends. We all talk about "when we get married" and "when we have kids". Why?
I was always a firm believer in Prince Charming and happily ever after. Seriously, ask anyone who's had a legitimate conversation with me in the last ten years. It's true. But I realized recently that my entire future was centered on an event that might never take place. I was subconsciously putting everything on hold, waiting for a man to be the leader. Normal, yes? But not realistic. There has never been any promise made to me ever, biblically or personally, that said CONGRATS, GIRL, YOU'RE GETTIN' HITCHED. Nope. Not a thing. And taking a second to think about that is equal parts exhilarating and awful.
Of course I want adorable little babies and maybe a cat and definitely a plaid-wearin' hubs who digs me big time. Of course it is literally terrifying to think about watching friend after friend get married (it's already started, let me tell you) and feeling a little (lot) bit alone.
However.
I love feeling like I am strong enough to succeed alone. I'm about this budding independence that says "It's adventure time, sister. Go do stuff." It's cool to think about every option, and not feel limited by waiting for somebody. There is no need to. I'm not a lonely half wandering aimlessly until I find my missing piece. Nope. If he ever comes along, that will be the coolest. I will be majorly amped about it. But I'm not assuming.
So I quit saying "when". Maybe you've heard me catch myself and rephrase. Because I'm trying this new thing where I don't limit God to what I think the plan should be. I'm shooting for "if". "If I have kids", "if I get married." It's scarier that way, but it's also kind of empowering. Now the future is wide open for any kind of adventure. I know what I'm hoping for, but there is also assurance that whatever happens will be perfectly within the design of Someone far wiser that I.
Groovy.
And marriage. If you have grown up (as I have) in a Christian home in the Bible Belt with happily married parents, it is just assumed that, at some point, you will tie the knot with a sexy, Jesus-lovin' sweetie. Obviously not everyone grows up looking forward to marriage, but I know I'm speaking for a pretty big group of people, here. I mean, HELLO, do you keep up with people's Pinterest boards these days? Fourteen-year-olds have wedding boards and some of my best friends are posting helpful hints for marriage. My single friends. We all talk about "when we get married" and "when we have kids". Why?
I was always a firm believer in Prince Charming and happily ever after. Seriously, ask anyone who's had a legitimate conversation with me in the last ten years. It's true. But I realized recently that my entire future was centered on an event that might never take place. I was subconsciously putting everything on hold, waiting for a man to be the leader. Normal, yes? But not realistic. There has never been any promise made to me ever, biblically or personally, that said CONGRATS, GIRL, YOU'RE GETTIN' HITCHED. Nope. Not a thing. And taking a second to think about that is equal parts exhilarating and awful.
Of course I want adorable little babies and maybe a cat and definitely a plaid-wearin' hubs who digs me big time. Of course it is literally terrifying to think about watching friend after friend get married (it's already started, let me tell you) and feeling a little (lot) bit alone.
However.
I love feeling like I am strong enough to succeed alone. I'm about this budding independence that says "It's adventure time, sister. Go do stuff." It's cool to think about every option, and not feel limited by waiting for somebody. There is no need to. I'm not a lonely half wandering aimlessly until I find my missing piece. Nope. If he ever comes along, that will be the coolest. I will be majorly amped about it. But I'm not assuming.
So I quit saying "when". Maybe you've heard me catch myself and rephrase. Because I'm trying this new thing where I don't limit God to what I think the plan should be. I'm shooting for "if". "If I have kids", "if I get married." It's scarier that way, but it's also kind of empowering. Now the future is wide open for any kind of adventure. I know what I'm hoping for, but there is also assurance that whatever happens will be perfectly within the design of Someone far wiser that I.
Groovy.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
"He's not a piece of meat, Olivia."
I saw that stripper movie. You know, the one with every attractive male actor under the age of fifty? It's okay, you can judge me because I judged me a little bit too. But the trailer was just too much to pass up. To be honest, I was expecting to see a movie about Channing Tatum's abs. I figured it would be about as quality as "Rock of Ages" and "Burlesque" combined (it's already slotted to appear on Broadway, which is maybe the most ridiculous thing I've heard since Beyonce named her baby a color). It was not. Turns out it was the kind of movie that makes you face a gruesome slice of real life and think on it. So here's what I'm thinking.
People in general are incredibly good at distorting that which was once awesome. I would be cliche and say, Bible in hand, "The youth of today are corrupted and slutty and should be punished." But let's be real, 1) it's not just the youth and 2) it's not just today. I am pretty certain this distortion of awesomeness has been going on since, oh, practically the beginning of time. Since the moment A and E chomped on that apple/orange/cumquat/whatever.
As I sat through two hours of Matthew/Matt/Alex/Channing/etc. shaking dat thang, all I could think about (besides the general awkwardness of a giant rear up in my face) was how we have taken the awesome thing that is, well, ourselves, and distorted our mindset to the point that it is totally acceptable to use each other for nothing but erotic entertainment. Girls do it to dudes, Boys do it to ladies. All day, err'day people use each other. Not cool. Super not cool when I remember that we were all created for a specific purpose, which is to bring glory to God. How exactly is a night out with the girls to watch some guy take his pants of glorifying to anybody? It's so not. It broke my heart to see a nineteen-year-old kid (even though he's not really nineteen because Alex Pettyfer's IMDB profile says he's 21) fall for the lie that a life worth living is a life full of fun, while at the same time totally lacking in worth. And when C. Tatum (as magical Michael) cried in his truck.
Let it be said that this is not a religious rampage against the strip club industry. Not even. This is one girl's observation of a sad fact: that people are okay with treating each other like toys, because they, we, have forgotten who we are and what we were created to be. We have been crafted in the image of the Creator, y'all. We are worth more, way more, than we give each other credit for.
C.S. Lewis wrote, "There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations-- these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit-- immortal horrors or everlasting splendors... Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses." (The Weight of Glory)
So for heaven's sake, be good to each other.
PS: Ten points to Gryffindor if anyone (like my roommate) understood the obscure "She's the Man" reference in the title.
People in general are incredibly good at distorting that which was once awesome. I would be cliche and say, Bible in hand, "The youth of today are corrupted and slutty and should be punished." But let's be real, 1) it's not just the youth and 2) it's not just today. I am pretty certain this distortion of awesomeness has been going on since, oh, practically the beginning of time. Since the moment A and E chomped on that apple/orange/cumquat/whatever.
As I sat through two hours of Matthew/Matt/Alex/Channing/etc. shaking dat thang, all I could think about (besides the general awkwardness of a giant rear up in my face) was how we have taken the awesome thing that is, well, ourselves, and distorted our mindset to the point that it is totally acceptable to use each other for nothing but erotic entertainment. Girls do it to dudes, Boys do it to ladies. All day, err'day people use each other. Not cool. Super not cool when I remember that we were all created for a specific purpose, which is to bring glory to God. How exactly is a night out with the girls to watch some guy take his pants of glorifying to anybody? It's so not. It broke my heart to see a nineteen-year-old kid (even though he's not really nineteen because Alex Pettyfer's IMDB profile says he's 21) fall for the lie that a life worth living is a life full of fun, while at the same time totally lacking in worth. And when C. Tatum (as magical Michael) cried in his truck.
Let it be said that this is not a religious rampage against the strip club industry. Not even. This is one girl's observation of a sad fact: that people are okay with treating each other like toys, because they, we, have forgotten who we are and what we were created to be. We have been crafted in the image of the Creator, y'all. We are worth more, way more, than we give each other credit for.
C.S. Lewis wrote, "There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations-- these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit-- immortal horrors or everlasting splendors... Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses." (The Weight of Glory)
So for heaven's sake, be good to each other.
PS: Ten points to Gryffindor if anyone (like my roommate) understood the obscure "She's the Man" reference in the title.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Why I have a degree in theatre.
If you have participated in the performing arts, you have probably experienced the gigantic sigh of relief, exhaustion and nostalgia that is the Monday after closing. Even when I thought I would be relieved to see a show go on Sunday night (or I can't wait to get "We welcome you to Munchkinland, tralalalalalalalala" OUT OF MY HEAD), by Monday afternoon I miss it.
For the last two weeks, I have had the immeasurable pleasure of putting up a show with a bunch of elementary, high school and college students. I say pleasure because, despite wanting to strangle sundry little necks when the children would not be silent backstage (and 13-hour work days), there was enough laughter, joy, and good work that made the frustration worth it. The worst part about this job is that I fell in love with it, and in five weeks it will be over for real.
I love that about theatre. Three weeks ago, I knew I would be working with three college friends at a local youth theatre for the summer. It was just a job. Today, I have fifty-trillion new best friends that I will genuinely miss come August. Theatre people (the good ones, at least) are just that way. They can be insta-friends because they get each other. If you're those people, you know what I'm saying. The theatre world is special that way, isn't it? It is never just a job. Creating art together forges a bond that makes you miss the rest of the company the Monday after closing. It makes each show special.
That's why I have a theatre degree. Because I want my work hours to be put towards making something beautiful with other slightly strange, loud, goofy people that will (just maybe) change the world.
For the last two weeks, I have had the immeasurable pleasure of putting up a show with a bunch of elementary, high school and college students. I say pleasure because, despite wanting to strangle sundry little necks when the children would not be silent backstage (and 13-hour work days), there was enough laughter, joy, and good work that made the frustration worth it. The worst part about this job is that I fell in love with it, and in five weeks it will be over for real.
I love that about theatre. Three weeks ago, I knew I would be working with three college friends at a local youth theatre for the summer. It was just a job. Today, I have fifty-trillion new best friends that I will genuinely miss come August. Theatre people (the good ones, at least) are just that way. They can be insta-friends because they get each other. If you're those people, you know what I'm saying. The theatre world is special that way, isn't it? It is never just a job. Creating art together forges a bond that makes you miss the rest of the company the Monday after closing. It makes each show special.
That's why I have a theatre degree. Because I want my work hours to be put towards making something beautiful with other slightly strange, loud, goofy people that will (just maybe) change the world.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
My dad, who is a star.
One of my favorite things to do whenever I am home for a few days is to have a friend or two over for dinner with my family. Usually, my sister will invite her boyfriend, my brother his girlfriend, and my mom will call her sister, the neighbor, and whomever else might possibly want to join. This means that, within about an hour, my family has created a 12-person impromptu dinner party that usually includes dancing around the kitchen to the inspiring sounds of cha-cha music. It is moments like this that I am so thankful for the stellar individuals that are my parents. As a pair, they have created a family and household that is always ready to welcome, play and share life with friends.
As those who has participated in Wilson Family Dinners will know, Papa Wilson likes to begin or end all meals with a question he puts to the whole table to answer. Sometimes the questions have a theme, like on holidays or other special occasions. I have been told that some people, fully aware that a question will be coming, prepare in advance so as to give a praise-worthy answer.
Today has been dubbed by Hallmark as the day to celebrate fathers. So, since I'm not sitting around the Sunday lunch table with the fam talking about our high-lows or favorite childhood memory, here is a tribute to the guy who cha-chas around the kitchen like a pro. Love ya, Dad. :)
A Father's Day Haiku:
Bad eyes and acne,
Love for Bing, fear of the phone.
Things I got from you.
As those who has participated in Wilson Family Dinners will know, Papa Wilson likes to begin or end all meals with a question he puts to the whole table to answer. Sometimes the questions have a theme, like on holidays or other special occasions. I have been told that some people, fully aware that a question will be coming, prepare in advance so as to give a praise-worthy answer.
Today has been dubbed by Hallmark as the day to celebrate fathers. So, since I'm not sitting around the Sunday lunch table with the fam talking about our high-lows or favorite childhood memory, here is a tribute to the guy who cha-chas around the kitchen like a pro. Love ya, Dad. :)
A Father's Day Haiku:
Bad eyes and acne,
Love for Bing, fear of the phone.
Things I got from you.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Chicken nuggets.
Those that know me well had to have known I would not be able to get very far into this blogging experience without talking about my favorite thing. Which is adorable babies. And by babies I definitely mean anyone under the age of 7, though I have learned to not call them babies to their face because they get incredibly offended (most of them are older siblings to actual infants). Children are the coolest. They are so easily delighted, so quick to befriend anyone they meet, and so expressive.
This last week I spent four hours a day hanging out with (and wrangling and shushing) 50 little nuggets between the ages of 4 and 7 at a local theatre camp. Let's be real, there is nothing more entertaining than a five-year-old with a flair for the performing arts. For example:
This last week I spent four hours a day hanging out with (and wrangling and shushing) 50 little nuggets between the ages of 4 and 7 at a local theatre camp. Let's be real, there is nothing more entertaining than a five-year-old with a flair for the performing arts. For example:
- I handed a little camper her script, told her what it was, and she immediately informed me (in a business-like tone): "But I can't read."
- Throughout the week, the staff followed the always dramatic and at times contradicting love story of Angel Face and her Romeo. Sometimes she loved him, sometimes she literally ran away, but those two stuck together like glue for most of the week. It was hysterical, precious, and a solid reminder that some things, like fickle hearts and relationship drama, never change.
- There was a redhead who showed up as Rogue (complete with gloves) for super hero day.
- When asked to show the staff special talents (ie: cartwheels, splits, spins), one kid came to the center of the room and struck a pose. That was it. "I look good," he said. "That's my special skill."
- One of the youngest campers was the Pre-K version of Sutton Foster and my sister combined. Or, the cutest child ever. I never had a clue what she was saying, but it was okay because she was just that adorable.
- I caught one little girl who was away from the rest of her group, playing in the curtains backstage and poking her head out to look at the audience. I swiftly walked over and asked her to find her team, but she very calmly said "No, no. I'm standing by for my next scene." What. A. Star.
True to form, I teared up a little during the last song as I stood backstage and watched everyone take a bow. A week of exhaustion, minor frustration and total insanity seemed absolutely worth it when my favorite little campers ran over to hug goodbye. I can only hope I am able to find jobs working with kids for the rest of my life. Sure they're a mess, but they are precious little reminders to busy adults that it's okay to be amazed. It's okay to not know the answer. And, maybe most importantly, it's okay to believe wholeheartedly in the impossible.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
#YOLO
Today as we were leaving the gym, my friend Alison said "You find a lot of reasons not to do things." (This was in response to me wanting to put the moves on a cute boy at the gym, then finding every reason imaginable not to do so, number one being no one looks cute when they don't ACTUALLY know how to use the gym equipment). But as I'm sitting here whacking myself across the head for not at least saying "hi", I realize she's right.
I've learned how to say "yes" to a lot of things in the last 21.75ish years. For example, I no longer have a problem with cheeseburgers. And I will join your game of water volleyball if you ask, even though you totally don't want me on your team because I am a terrible water volleyball player. However, there is a very long list of things that I will talk myself out of until I'm blue in the face (like the high dive at the pool) and, 95.7% of the time, I regret not doing them.
As Drake so astutely put it, "You only live once, that's the motto, YOLO." Dude has got a point. We are given a very limited amount of time on this planet to get stuff done. As I get older and time starts to fly faster I am struck with a strong desire to LIVE, in all capital letters. More and more, when I let an opportunity pass me by, I regret it. Sometimes it's little, like Cute Gym Boy. But sometimes it's big, like ignoring the homeless person walking past me even though my heart is screaming to do something. And it all boils down to the same thing: fear. I'm afraid of what will happen if I take that risk, and that fear becomes crippling.
But then there is this little gem: Jesus has called his followers (das me, yo) to live as he did. And he did not let a single moment pass him by. His entire life was lived with the greatest intention and focus. He saw opportunities in every moment and he took them every time (I mean, he coulda left Zaccheus up in the tree, am I right?). In the book of Acts, there is story after story about men and women who modeled Christ and YOLO'd the heck outta their lives (did I just make YOLO a verb? I apologize). "If we only live once and so does everyone else," they probably said, "we better get as many of them on Team JC as possible. Let's do this thang, y'all." What. A. Risk. Yet that is exactly the kind of no-fear, balls-to-the-walls approach that makes life so exhilarating! Right?!
If I could, I would be fearless. I guess the next best thing is to be courageous, and take risks even though it's sometimes terrifying. Big stuff, little stuff, silly stuff, serious stuff, ALL THE STUFF. Whether it's jumping into Frog Fountain at midnight or boldly sharing my faith or saying "Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy...", now is the time for action.
I'm going to carpe the hell out of this diem, and all the ones to follow. Join me?
I've learned how to say "yes" to a lot of things in the last 21.75ish years. For example, I no longer have a problem with cheeseburgers. And I will join your game of water volleyball if you ask, even though you totally don't want me on your team because I am a terrible water volleyball player. However, there is a very long list of things that I will talk myself out of until I'm blue in the face (like the high dive at the pool) and, 95.7% of the time, I regret not doing them.
As Drake so astutely put it, "You only live once, that's the motto, YOLO." Dude has got a point. We are given a very limited amount of time on this planet to get stuff done. As I get older and time starts to fly faster I am struck with a strong desire to LIVE, in all capital letters. More and more, when I let an opportunity pass me by, I regret it. Sometimes it's little, like Cute Gym Boy. But sometimes it's big, like ignoring the homeless person walking past me even though my heart is screaming to do something. And it all boils down to the same thing: fear. I'm afraid of what will happen if I take that risk, and that fear becomes crippling.
But then there is this little gem: Jesus has called his followers (das me, yo) to live as he did. And he did not let a single moment pass him by. His entire life was lived with the greatest intention and focus. He saw opportunities in every moment and he took them every time (I mean, he coulda left Zaccheus up in the tree, am I right?). In the book of Acts, there is story after story about men and women who modeled Christ and YOLO'd the heck outta their lives (did I just make YOLO a verb? I apologize). "If we only live once and so does everyone else," they probably said, "we better get as many of them on Team JC as possible. Let's do this thang, y'all." What. A. Risk. Yet that is exactly the kind of no-fear, balls-to-the-walls approach that makes life so exhilarating! Right?!
If I could, I would be fearless. I guess the next best thing is to be courageous, and take risks even though it's sometimes terrifying. Big stuff, little stuff, silly stuff, serious stuff, ALL THE STUFF. Whether it's jumping into Frog Fountain at midnight or boldly sharing my faith or saying "Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy...", now is the time for action.
I'm going to carpe the hell out of this diem, and all the ones to follow. Join me?
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Thoughts on Gatsby and friends.
True to form, I devoured The Great Gatsby. For one, it was just a really great read (I fully get what all the fuss is about) and for another, it was much shorter than I thought. Somehow it made sense that one of the most famous books of the twentieth century needed to be a hefty volume that would take two months to finish. Nope, two days. But I am sufficiently inspired. Bring on more Fitzgerald! Here's what I thought about while I read:
1) I was completely intrigued by Jordan Baker from the get-go. There is a part of me that wants to be her, despite the fact that she is maybe not the most ideal person from which to model one's life decisions. The cool, casual, sporty-but-sexy thing she was rocking is totally twenties and TOTALLY a vibe I wish I had going.
2) Thank goodness I just finished Costume History with LaLonnie and knew so much about the roarin' twenties. It definitely helped me visualize Gatsby's smoldering summer flings (in the immortal words of LL: "chicky poos flapping their legs around"). I was also able to nod knowingly every time people were referenced to as "men and girls". In fact, I can't remember reading the word "woman" once, except maybe in reference to Myrtle Wilson. Why? Because a young, slim, girlish figure and adolescent behavior is what the twenties were all about. (Lord help me, I'm about to launch into a Costume History essay.)
3) I could not get over how beautifully Fitzgerald used words. Seriously. Gorgeous. Not too flowery, but descriptive enough to get a perfect picture of the city, people, and season about which he was writing. The dude is brilliant.
4) Poor Gatsby. Poor, obsessed Gatsby. My heart went out to him immediately. Daisy was not worth the five years he spent on her. Sure, she was mysterious and pretty and probably really nice, but I personally think she lacked passion and determination and courage. I wanted her to rise to the occasion and courageously leave her sexy tool of a husband. Or at the very least show up to the freakin' funeral. Poor Gatsby.
5) Poor Gatsby's dad. He was part of the story for all of one chapter, but his unwavering devotion and complete pride in his son was precious and heartbreaking. When nobody came to the funeral, I imagined his face falling and Nick having to pat him awkwardly on the shoulder to console him and it was the saddest thing.
Okay so I ended on a downer. Sorry. But this book really was the bomb. When I bought it at Half Price Books, the checkout lady said "Oh, that's my daughter's favorite book! I hope you enjoy it!" And I did. Also, HOW PERFECT that the movie is coming out the December. I will be so in the know.
1) I was completely intrigued by Jordan Baker from the get-go. There is a part of me that wants to be her, despite the fact that she is maybe not the most ideal person from which to model one's life decisions. The cool, casual, sporty-but-sexy thing she was rocking is totally twenties and TOTALLY a vibe I wish I had going.
2) Thank goodness I just finished Costume History with LaLonnie and knew so much about the roarin' twenties. It definitely helped me visualize Gatsby's smoldering summer flings (in the immortal words of LL: "chicky poos flapping their legs around"). I was also able to nod knowingly every time people were referenced to as "men and girls". In fact, I can't remember reading the word "woman" once, except maybe in reference to Myrtle Wilson. Why? Because a young, slim, girlish figure and adolescent behavior is what the twenties were all about. (Lord help me, I'm about to launch into a Costume History essay.)
3) I could not get over how beautifully Fitzgerald used words. Seriously. Gorgeous. Not too flowery, but descriptive enough to get a perfect picture of the city, people, and season about which he was writing. The dude is brilliant.
4) Poor Gatsby. Poor, obsessed Gatsby. My heart went out to him immediately. Daisy was not worth the five years he spent on her. Sure, she was mysterious and pretty and probably really nice, but I personally think she lacked passion and determination and courage. I wanted her to rise to the occasion and courageously leave her sexy tool of a husband. Or at the very least show up to the freakin' funeral. Poor Gatsby.
5) Poor Gatsby's dad. He was part of the story for all of one chapter, but his unwavering devotion and complete pride in his son was precious and heartbreaking. When nobody came to the funeral, I imagined his face falling and Nick having to pat him awkwardly on the shoulder to console him and it was the saddest thing.
Okay so I ended on a downer. Sorry. But this book really was the bomb. When I bought it at Half Price Books, the checkout lady said "Oh, that's my daughter's favorite book! I hope you enjoy it!" And I did. Also, HOW PERFECT that the movie is coming out the December. I will be so in the know.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Hey there, summertime.
It is that time of year again. SUMMAH. Though I like to say I love all the seasons equally, summer is the season that amps me up the most. It is days of free time that I can fill up with projects, goals, fun, and naps. Since this is probably the last summer I have to laze around (thank you, college degree and real world expectations), I plan on enjoying it to the utmost. To prepare for this, I thought up a list of ten things that are a set-up for the best summer ever. (As in, if you do them every summer, you will have a lifetime of the best summer ever).
1) Compile your summer jamz
I love listening to the radio in mid-May and figuring out which songs are going to be the summer Top 40. Then I'm all "Yes! I can't wait to jam to this Nicki/Justin/Maroon 5/Usher hit under the stars!" It's like a little hint of how awesome the rest of the summer will be. It's also important, however, to include on your playlist that song or album that pulls up sun-soaked memories of summers past. Mine is and always will be the self-titled album The Gabe Dixon Band. This year, my playlist also includes "Starships" by Nicki Minaj, "Payphone" by Maroon 5, and that not-so-seminal but TOTALLY CATCHY hit "What Makes You Beautiful" by One Direction. See? You're jazzed for summer already.
2) Get a pedicure
My mother always taught me to never wear sandals unless my toes were painted. Let's be real, I do not always comply to this rule. But it is a good one, so it makes the list. Treat your feet kindly by giving them a little makeover that includes either glitter, flowers, or neon paint. Live a little, folks, it's summertime. Yes the spa is a splurge, but this one time it is worth it. And just in case your boyfriend/son/husband/GBF tells you pedis are for girls only, tell them that I have seen (on two occasions) a nice white-haired farmer in a chair across the room from me enjoying his foot massage as much as I was enjoying mine.
3) Read a really good book
I do not mean the latest vampire/witch/tween superhero that is on the shelves and being devoured by our youth. I mean a classic. Preferably one you have never read, though I do enjoy a yearly reading of Eight Cousins by Louisa May Alcott. But try something new. I've got my sights set on The Great Gatsby.
4) Have a productive project
Mine is applying for real people jobs. Yours could be planting a garden, redecorating a room, or finally organizing that closet/desk/drawer/storage unit/apartment.
5) EXERCISE, FATTY
This is my least favorite activity in theory, but the most rewarding upon completion. Here's the challenge: find a 5k (or something longer for the more ambitious athlete) in your area that will take place at some point this summer and sign up for it. If you have a friend, drag them into it. Running buddies are the best. Then, make a point to train by running a little bit every day. Keep it fun by running to some place cool, like the pool, and reward yourself with a nap when you get there.
6) Go the the farmer's market
I have never done this, but I super want to. Fresh produce (and people who want to sell it to you) is all over the place in the summer, so go find it! It's a good Saturday morning adventure for all ages, and if you can walk or bike there then you've really lucked out.
7) Now that you have that produce, cook stuff
Once a week (or more if you're June Cleaver) find a totally new recipe that just reeks of summertime and make it. I like to look in Better Homes and Gardens. Also Pinterest, which is a constant reminder of how unproductive and poor I actually am.
8) Outdoor concerts
MY FAVORITE ACTIVITY. Every year, the Kansas City Symphony plays a concert in front of Union Station on Memorial Day. It has become my favorite summer thing. See if your city's symphony is playing a free concert. If not, find another kind of outdoor music activity. Summer nights are not meant for the indoors.
9) Have craft day
Crafting is the greatest. This is the one season that you have enough time to make that cute little thing you saw in a magazine or online once. Thanks to technology, you can get the instructions in two seconds flat. So make a little pit stop at Hobby Lobby (and a local resale shop) and let your creative side go wild. You could be featured in a Martha Stewart article or reach great Pinterest fame. I, for one, am stoked to start apartment crafting. For inspiration, try this.
10) Get a new outfit
Whatever, I like to shop. Sorry 'bout it. But seriously, a new summer outfit that includes bright yellow shorts and a nautically-themed tank or a floral maxi dress and cork wedges will usher in summer like a neon sign that says LET'S DO THIS THANG. Don't go crazy (we all have budgets), but do treat yourself to a summery little something that will brighten up your wardrobe and put a smile on your face. This year, I got a bubblegum pink skirt that probably glows in the dark. Helloooo, summer.
So there it is. The best summer ever. If I had an intelligent phone with Instagram I would post pictures of my summer adventures. Since the camera quality on my mediocre phone isn't up to par, I will spare you. Still, stay tuned for stories about summer camp, the job search, and the Big Move. It will be a roller coaster, let me tell you. Happy summer!
1) Compile your summer jamz
I love listening to the radio in mid-May and figuring out which songs are going to be the summer Top 40. Then I'm all "Yes! I can't wait to jam to this Nicki/Justin/Maroon 5/Usher hit under the stars!" It's like a little hint of how awesome the rest of the summer will be. It's also important, however, to include on your playlist that song or album that pulls up sun-soaked memories of summers past. Mine is and always will be the self-titled album The Gabe Dixon Band. This year, my playlist also includes "Starships" by Nicki Minaj, "Payphone" by Maroon 5, and that not-so-seminal but TOTALLY CATCHY hit "What Makes You Beautiful" by One Direction. See? You're jazzed for summer already.
2) Get a pedicure
My mother always taught me to never wear sandals unless my toes were painted. Let's be real, I do not always comply to this rule. But it is a good one, so it makes the list. Treat your feet kindly by giving them a little makeover that includes either glitter, flowers, or neon paint. Live a little, folks, it's summertime. Yes the spa is a splurge, but this one time it is worth it. And just in case your boyfriend/son/husband/GBF tells you pedis are for girls only, tell them that I have seen (on two occasions) a nice white-haired farmer in a chair across the room from me enjoying his foot massage as much as I was enjoying mine.
3) Read a really good book
I do not mean the latest vampire/witch/tween superhero that is on the shelves and being devoured by our youth. I mean a classic. Preferably one you have never read, though I do enjoy a yearly reading of Eight Cousins by Louisa May Alcott. But try something new. I've got my sights set on The Great Gatsby.
4) Have a productive project
Mine is applying for real people jobs. Yours could be planting a garden, redecorating a room, or finally organizing that closet/desk/drawer/storage unit/apartment.
5) EXERCISE, FATTY
This is my least favorite activity in theory, but the most rewarding upon completion. Here's the challenge: find a 5k (or something longer for the more ambitious athlete) in your area that will take place at some point this summer and sign up for it. If you have a friend, drag them into it. Running buddies are the best. Then, make a point to train by running a little bit every day. Keep it fun by running to some place cool, like the pool, and reward yourself with a nap when you get there.
6) Go the the farmer's market
I have never done this, but I super want to. Fresh produce (and people who want to sell it to you) is all over the place in the summer, so go find it! It's a good Saturday morning adventure for all ages, and if you can walk or bike there then you've really lucked out.
7) Now that you have that produce, cook stuff
Once a week (or more if you're June Cleaver) find a totally new recipe that just reeks of summertime and make it. I like to look in Better Homes and Gardens. Also Pinterest, which is a constant reminder of how unproductive and poor I actually am.
8) Outdoor concerts
MY FAVORITE ACTIVITY. Every year, the Kansas City Symphony plays a concert in front of Union Station on Memorial Day. It has become my favorite summer thing. See if your city's symphony is playing a free concert. If not, find another kind of outdoor music activity. Summer nights are not meant for the indoors.
9) Have craft day
Crafting is the greatest. This is the one season that you have enough time to make that cute little thing you saw in a magazine or online once. Thanks to technology, you can get the instructions in two seconds flat. So make a little pit stop at Hobby Lobby (and a local resale shop) and let your creative side go wild. You could be featured in a Martha Stewart article or reach great Pinterest fame. I, for one, am stoked to start apartment crafting. For inspiration, try this.
10) Get a new outfit
Whatever, I like to shop. Sorry 'bout it. But seriously, a new summer outfit that includes bright yellow shorts and a nautically-themed tank or a floral maxi dress and cork wedges will usher in summer like a neon sign that says LET'S DO THIS THANG. Don't go crazy (we all have budgets), but do treat yourself to a summery little something that will brighten up your wardrobe and put a smile on your face. This year, I got a bubblegum pink skirt that probably glows in the dark. Helloooo, summer.
So there it is. The best summer ever. If I had an intelligent phone with Instagram I would post pictures of my summer adventures. Since the camera quality on my mediocre phone isn't up to par, I will spare you. Still, stay tuned for stories about summer camp, the job search, and the Big Move. It will be a roller coaster, let me tell you. Happy summer!
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