February282012
I once went 10 years without ever crying. Not once. Then one day, I cried. I cried really hard. It was like all ten years of hidden, stuffed emotion just busted out of me at once, soaking and snotting up my face, shirt, and maybe even my jeans. From that point on…for a little while at least…the flood gates were opened. I would cry over anything and everything…hallmark commercials, a smile from a stranger, child sponsorship commercials, puppies, Jerry Springer…. That is when I started crying when I laughed. I now cry full on tears just chuckling. People ask me sometimes why I’m crying when everyone else is laughing. I tell them that is how they know I actually think something is funny. Courtesy laughs don’t come with tears. Now you know my secret. I apologize in advance if my lack of tears offends you when you say something “funny” in the future. I went through another dry spell for a while over the last three years. Being in my counseling program and working full time didn’t give me much space or time to let the flood gates open every time I wanted them to. But then I graduated and had to relearn to cry again. Over my lifetime, I got so good at moving forward. I became an expert stuffer, compartmentalizer, endurer. But I wasn’t as good at allowing myself to be human. I recently had to figure that out again. I had done it once. I believed I could find my way inside again. So, I rented Marley and Me and Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood, paid attention to any hint of emotional reaction, and went with it as if the sky were falling. And that brings us to today. I’m back to crying over everything again. I don’t just tear my clothes, wail, and bang on the ground at the grocery store, but I cry again.  What I have found this time is interesting. I cry over everything, yes. But, I used to think when the flood gates opened; it meant I would be sad all the time. What I have discovered is the opposite. I feel my hurt deeply…loosely…honestly, which is healthy, but I find that I also feel joy more deeply, more loosely, and more honestly. That is why I cry when I laugh. It’s real and felt now. I feel it with all that I am…sadness, joy, and even love. So, when you see me cry when you say something funny, smile to yourself, knowing I genuinely, honestly find you humorous. And forgive me if the tears don’t come for you. You’re just having an “off” day. Everybody does. :) “Comedy is defiance. It’s a snort of contempt in the face of fear and anxiety. And it’s the laughter that allows hope to creep back on the inhale.” ~ Will Durst

I once went 10 years without ever crying. Not once. Then one day, I cried. I cried really hard. It was like all ten years of hidden, stuffed emotion just busted out of me at once, soaking and snotting up my face, shirt, and maybe even my jeans. From that point on…for a little while at least…the flood gates were opened. I would cry over anything and everything…hallmark commercials, a smile from a stranger, child sponsorship commercials, puppies, Jerry Springer…. That is when I started crying when I laughed. I now cry full on tears just chuckling. People ask me sometimes why I’m crying when everyone else is laughing. I tell them that is how they know I actually think something is funny. Courtesy laughs don’t come with tears. Now you know my secret. I apologize in advance if my lack of tears offends you when you say something “funny” in the future.

I went through another dry spell for a while over the last three years. Being in my counseling program and working full time didn’t give me much space or time to let the flood gates open every time I wanted them to. But then I graduated and had to relearn to cry again. Over my lifetime, I got so good at moving forward. I became an expert stuffer, compartmentalizer, endurer. But I wasn’t as good at allowing myself to be human. I recently had to figure that out again. I had done it once. I believed I could find my way inside again.

So, I rented Marley and Me and Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood, paid attention to any hint of emotional reaction, and went with it as if the sky were falling. And that brings us to today. I’m back to crying over everything again. I don’t just tear my clothes, wail, and bang on the ground at the grocery store, but I cry again.  What I have found this time is interesting. I cry over everything, yes. But, I used to think when the flood gates opened; it meant I would be sad all the time. What I have discovered is the opposite. I feel my hurt deeply…loosely…honestly, which is healthy, but I find that I also feel joy more deeply, more loosely, and more honestly. That is why I cry when I laugh. It’s real and felt now. I feel it with all that I am…sadness, joy, and even love. So, when you see me cry when you say something funny, smile to yourself, knowing I genuinely, honestly find you humorous. And forgive me if the tears don’t come for you. You’re just having an “off” day. Everybody does. :)

“Comedy is defiance. It’s a snort of contempt in the face of fear and anxiety. And it’s the laughter that allows hope to creep back on the inhale.” ~ Will Durst

humour laughing crying 

January262012

Moments of Awesome

I have been inspired by my Calendar of Awesome that was a Christmas gift from my crony, Lori Beth Dunlap, to start paying attention to the little moments of Awesome during the day. Here are my top ten moments of Awesome this week:

1) Catching the sunrise just as it peaks over the horizon.

 2) Going into the office kitchen to find a fresh pot of coffee (even if it is disgusting…it is fresh). 

 3)  Putting the perfect amount of cream and sugar in said coffee that somehow masks the level of disgustingness.

4) Walking into an empty bathroom at the office.

5) Walking past a meeting of coworkers, happy you don’t have to be in it.

6) Getting a “Thank You” email or a compliment on the phone for how well you do your job.

7) The moment you realize someone brought in fresh baked goods for the office to share…and of course…the first bite.

8) Getting a comment on your Facebook status from a friend you haven’t talked to in a very long time.

9) When someone compliments your outfit or your hair on a morning when you were in a hurry to get ready.

10) Having exactly what someone else needs at exactly the moment they need it.

May you have many moments of Awesome this weekend!

5PM
“You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment.” ~ Henry David Thoreau

“You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment.” ~ Henry David Thoreau
January212012

Waiting…

With plenty of time to twiddle my thumbs, make faces in the mirror, and ponder life, I’m taking the opportunity to do just that, and other things I haven’t done in…eh…8-10 years. Lots of tea, coffee, silence, and imagining being locked away in a gorgeous castle…in say…Ireland,  have lead me to this….

Contentment seems to be an adversary for me. I find I always look beyond now and don’t feel comfortable unless I am moving forward…toward something…anything…moving. That leaves me uncomfortable with sitting, not knowing where my foot should step next…what I’ll step in when I do. Who am I when everything is silent? When “the winds of change” are on the horizon, but I have no idea which direction they will be blowing? When now calls only for me to wait and see.

As I sit in silence, I find myself challenged to be honest with myself. Be honest about how I currently feel, think, and view myself and the people and world around me. This seems to help clear the mud from my perspective so I can see the possibilities of my current situation. Right now can be full of truth or lies, depending on which voices I listen to. I am constantly surrounded by echoes from the past, pressures in the present, and hope for the future. I need to remember who I am in these moments…what is true. It is when I shield myself from the past, present, and future, and just simply…am….that I find my honest self. In order to get to this place, I revisit significant life experiences. Recognize what is keeping me from seeing right now clearly. Face the echoes and pressures in order to not only hope for the future…but be content now.

Let us flash back through some of these muddy moments (read like the micro-machine man):

As a kid I was often called ugly because “they” said I had a big nose and that I was fat. I was even called “Burnt Toast” and “Brownie” because I have dark skin, especially in the summer. In 5th grade I had huge pink glasses that covered 2/3rds of my face, and around that time I thought it would make me look prettier to get a perm. So I did, only they aulso permed my bangs with super tight curls, so I looked like an ugly poodle…or like I probably owned one. I once even had two best friends from 2nd grade stop talking to me in 5th grade because I was such a nerd they didn’t want to be associated with me…this was actually said to my apparently embarrassingly ugly face. I have had people tell me they love me and then disappear with no explanation. I have had people yell at me or stop talking to me for disagreeing with them, hate me because I was good at something, and hate me because other people liked me or didn’t like me. I have had countless people ask me why I am not married yet.

Here are some of the echoes: You have to be attractive (whatever that means) to be seen or accept that you won’t be seen. Never get a perm in short bangs (this one I will hold on to forever). There is something wrong with you. Everybody leaves. You can’t have your own opinion. You have to downplay your strengths. People will only love you as long as you keep them happy. You have to hide negative, unattractive, or differing thoughts and feelings. You are not worth it. You have to always look like Jesus…whatever that means to “them.”

All echoes from the past and pressures in the present that like to yell at me with authority, military style, to try to get me to believe them…though they are not true. (Except the perm echo…truly…never again).  

The good news is that I am getting better at washing the mud off so I can see clearly, though the echoes can be loud at times. His name is Jesus. (Hymn softly begins to play in the background “Just as I am…without one plea…” j/k) The biggest help for me, honestly, is knowing Jesus. He has taken the wheel more times that I can count. He made me, saved me, and loved me even as I was a sinner, so I figure he knows what’s up. He is safe, so with Him I am learning to be honest with myself…to be authentically myself. So, as I have this time to wait, I am remembering who I am, grounding myself again in the truth, and finding that when the circumstances are left up to the Lord, I can find peace and contentment in just authentically being me.

At the risk of sounding “mystic”, I am sharing this experience. I’m pretty sure I was reprimanded the other day, before finding said contentment. I envisioned the Lord standing over my dipped, far from content head and He said, “Do you know who I am?” I said, “I think I have an idea.” And He said, “Really? Do you know who I am.” More like a command, this time telling me to ponder the “question”. After a minute, I looked up and sheepishly and humbly said, “Well, you sort of created everything….then there is kind of a long story after that where you did a lot of amazing and confusing stuff…and you created me… and have always taken care of me and loved me and… you brought me here …and am I picking up what you’re throwing down?” And then He said, “If you believe that, then why don’t you trust me.” Another statement/question to ponder. It seems, remembering who He is, helps me remember who I am and whose hands I am in…making waiting an opportunity.

I just wish we as people could be that for each other…with each other. I wish we had more practice being authentic because it was safe to be. From what I have seen we hide instead. We hide our honest thoughts, struggles, and opinions in order to not be judged or rejected, to receive approval and acceptance. We hide even our love for each other for fear of rejection. We often don’t even give each other the freedom to question and talk about controversial, uncomfortable subjects, unless we know we’ll come to the same conclusion. We fear being wrong, being challenged, what we don’t understand, and what is different. We fear appearing imperfect and having others seeing it…unless it’s after we conquer a struggle…then we get to talk about the victory. We fear being authentic and we fear others being authentic with us. I think we have a lot to learn about honesty, faith, and truth…and freedom to be authentically ourselves.

I do have a big nose when compared to some. I get nervous and say dumb things. I forget things. I mess up. My hair is still barely tamable, though less poodle-like and more wild lion mane-like now. I have an un-proportionately large back end that has persistently followed me all the days of my life. I still fear not being good enough sometimes. I still fear making the mistakes of those who came before me. I still fear rocking the Christian boat, even though I think it’s necessary to always seek what being like Jesus really looks like. I mean we thought the earth was flat for how long?  But all of that’s ok. We were wonderfully made and I think we are all marvelous when we are authentically and uniquely ourselves…in the bustle or the silence. (Cue music “Jesus Loves me this I know…” again…J/k)

j

authenticity confidence faith truth waiting contentment 

January202012
“Of course there are regrets. I shall regret always that I found my own authentic voice in politics. I was too conservative, too conventional. Too safe, too often. Too defensive. Too reactive. Later, too often on the back foot.” ~ John Major”
September272011
I once had a dream that Godzilla and I were best friends. He liked to wear a pink moo moo because it was pretty and comfortable (I’m guessing because of the nice draft) and once bought me a pink moo moo just like his so we could be twins. Hmm…I wonder what the social ramifications of having a pink moo moo wearing Godzilla as a best friend would be… That is not the point of this post, but I’m sure you have already thought to yourself that this is not a common dream the average person might have. I often have crazy dreams like this. Once I dreamed I was a stealth fighter pilot. That was an awesome dream. And yes, of course I saved the world defying my superiors, breaking international law, and blowing up things. It was fantastic.  I have had many a dream where I was the heroine doing fantastical things that positively changed and impacted the world. My dreams for my actual life are really not a whole lot different in theory. I mean, I still like the idea of befriending and loving unusual or outcast people (no I don’t mean to compare these people with Godzilla…but..um..well..dang it…that’s exactly what I’m doing.) I also still like the idea of changing and saving the world. Some would say I am still young and others would say I am old (I was once, not so many years ago, asked if there was color television when I was little), but my desire to “change the world” has never faded, grown weary, or been rendered hopeless…thankfully.  Though I find myself feeling a bit stuck right now. I have a master’s in counseling that I am not using. I am working in a job definitely worthy of my time and energy, but I’m not sure where to go from here. I suddenly find myself feeling like that girl in high school trying to figure out what to do with her life. It is interesting, because I know myself so well. I know what I love. I know what fills me with passion and a sense of fulfillment. I know who I am for the most part, where I stand on many issues. I see the world around me, where it hurts, where it is unhealthy, where people hurt each other out of misunderstanding and/or fear of change. I see how and where I would love to step in with all of my education and love for people and desire for healing, and I find myself humbled.  I am suddenly trapped in between a deep desire to make the difference I see that I can make (without having a clue how) and between my realization and fear of how little I actually know. I love the gay community. I mean LOVE the gay community and would love to work with Christians and this community and Christians in this community…but how? It’s so complicated. This issue alone makes many people I love and respect dearly squirm a little. What can I do? Where do I start. I LOVE the urban core and its vast and diverse population, with all of its unpredictableness and challenges. I see so much in communities different from my own that I adore and wish my family and friends could benefit from learning. I also have a heart for social justice and healing on an international level. To go all theological, I have also learned so much from Nazarenes, Catholics, Baptists, Orthodox, and even those crazy Vineyard people. ;) It seems each group has something beautiful and amazing the others do not have, and yet we remain apart making jokes from the pulpit about each other.  I find myself feeling a part of each but in some way or another separate and I feel sad about that. I don’t have a solution really. I am mainly just thinking without a filter, so I apologize if I don’t make any sense. I guess I’m just prayerfully rethinking or redefining, or further defining rather, may place in this world. As I sit in my favorite coffee shop, I am left wondering what is next. I feel I am on the cusp of something and the little doe eyed dreamer inside is hoping it is something fantastical and great. Something that will make a difference and change the world for the better and that I will have the wisdom and confidence to do it well. I think I’d be friends with Godzilla..even if he wore a pink moo moo. I could fly around his head with my stealth fighter jet and see if he could catch me. :) If I ever stop dreaming and believing, slap me in the face and remind me of who I am.

I once had a dream that Godzilla and I were best friends. He liked to wear a pink moo moo because it was pretty and comfortable (I’m guessing because of the nice draft) and once bought me a pink moo moo just like his so we could be twins. Hmm…I wonder what the social ramifications of having a pink moo moo wearing Godzilla as a best friend would be… That is not the point of this post, but I’m sure you have already thought to yourself that this is not a common dream the average person might have. I often have crazy dreams like this. Once I dreamed I was a stealth fighter pilot. That was an awesome dream. And yes, of course I saved the world defying my superiors, breaking international law, and blowing up things. It was fantastic. 

I have had many a dream where I was the heroine doing fantastical things that positively changed and impacted the world. My dreams for my actual life are really not a whole lot different in theory. I mean, I still like the idea of befriending and loving unusual or outcast people (no I don’t mean to compare these people with Godzilla…but..um..well..dang it…that’s exactly what I’m doing.) I also still like the idea of changing and saving the world. Some would say I am still young and others would say I am old (I was once, not so many years ago, asked if there was color television when I was little), but my desire to “change the world” has never faded, grown weary, or been rendered hopeless…thankfully. 

Though I find myself feeling a bit stuck right now. I have a master’s in counseling that I am not using. I am working in a job definitely worthy of my time and energy, but I’m not sure where to go from here. I suddenly find myself feeling like that girl in high school trying to figure out what to do with her life. It is interesting, because I know myself so well. I know what I love. I know what fills me with passion and a sense of fulfillment. I know who I am for the most part, where I stand on many issues. I see the world around me, where it hurts, where it is unhealthy, where people hurt each other out of misunderstanding and/or fear of change. I see how and where I would love to step in with all of my education and love for people and desire for healing, and I find myself humbled. 

I am suddenly trapped in between a deep desire to make the difference I see that I can make (without having a clue how) and between my realization and fear of how little I actually know. I love the gay community. I mean LOVE the gay community and would love to work with Christians and this community and Christians in this community…but how? It’s so complicated. This issue alone makes many people I love and respect dearly squirm a little. What can I do? Where do I start.

I LOVE the urban core and its vast and diverse population, with all of its unpredictableness and challenges. I see so much in communities different from my own that I adore and wish my family and friends could benefit from learning. I also have a heart for social justice and healing on an international level. To go all theological, I have also learned so much from Nazarenes, Catholics, Baptists, Orthodox, and even those crazy Vineyard people. ;) It seems each group has something beautiful and amazing the others do not have, and yet we remain apart making jokes from the pulpit about each other. 

I find myself feeling a part of each but in some way or another separate and I feel sad about that. I don’t have a solution really. I am mainly just thinking without a filter, so I apologize if I don’t make any sense. I guess I’m just prayerfully rethinking or redefining, or further defining rather, may place in this world. As I sit in my favorite coffee shop, I am left wondering what is next. I feel I am on the cusp of something and the little doe eyed dreamer inside is hoping it is something fantastical and great. Something that will make a difference and change the world for the better and that I will have the wisdom and confidence to do it well.

I think I’d be friends with Godzilla..even if he wore a pink moo moo. I could fly around his head with my stealth fighter jet and see if he could catch me. :) If I ever stop dreaming and believing, slap me in the face and remind me of who I am.
July272011
So a priest, a pastor, and a rabbi walk into a bar…. Just kidding, I am not going to tell one of those jokes. I actually don’t know any, though I have heard that beginning many times. So, if you know one that is funny, recall it and laugh to yourself. It will be fun. Or better, send it to me and if I’m not offended I will laugh with you. I’ve begun to think a lot about things I have heard before and what I think about them. I am also reading a lot in my free time to really explore those subjects. Some such topics are deep, like heaven and hell, life and death, the thinning of the ozone layer and the possible resulting mass drowning of the polar bears (so sad), etc…. Other topics I am interested in lately are not so deep, like would Tina Fey win if she ran for President or are Tom from Tom’s shoes and Tom from Tom’s toothpaste friends or who is Jake Gyllanhal dating now and will he be coming to Kansas City anytime soon? I read a book recently called “Heaven is For Real”. It’s about a 3 year old kid who goes to heaven for three minutes and comes back, and over the course of the next several years he gradually talks about it. Btw… if you want to see a picture of the “real” Jesus according to this now 12 year old, check out Akiane Kramarik’s website. Apparently, she painted him spot on at age 8. It’s impressive. Right after that I began reading “Love Wins” by Rob Bell. It is also about “heaven, hell, and the fate of every person”. These are subjects I’d prefer to be well versed in for my “big day” whenever it should come. I got two shots last week and wondered if Jesus would be nice and take me before my appointment, so I started reading these books. I jest. That isn’t really the reason I started reading about these things, but I do get a little overdramatic about shots, “I’m gonna die!! Noo!! Don’t let her shoot me, Jesus!!” Sometimes we suffer for the greater good I guess.  So these two books have two very different “feels” about them. One is cute and cuddly, black and white, and pretty straight forward. Think “kid” perspective. The other…well…I saw all the posts and comments about Rob Bell getting reamed for his book, so I will just say it’s…controversial (understatement of the Christian world), theological, political, and sort of the opposite of “kid” perspective. As a result, I find myself in this tug-of-war between no longer “thinking like a child, reasoning like a child, and putting they ways of childhood behind me” (scripture reference for those who don’t know), in order to work through my own perspective, and “having faith like a child”. I guess my personal question is, when it comes to what I’ve been taught and even my interpretation of what I have read on many subjects, how much of my child-like faith has been in God and how much has been in Man? I guess that is where the kid me is turning to the adult me, and the adult me is asking…is Jesus in a bar with the priest, pastor, and rabbi? And if so, which one?  I need to ask them a few questions, plus they may know if Jake is available. *The above picture made me chuckle.

So a priest, a pastor, and a rabbi walk into a bar….

Just kidding, I am not going to tell one of those jokes. I actually don’t know any, though I have heard that beginning many times. So, if you know one that is funny, recall it and laugh to yourself. It will be fun. Or better, send it to me and if I’m not offended I will laugh with you.

I’ve begun to think a lot about things I have heard before and what I think about them. I am also reading a lot in my free time to really explore those subjects. Some such topics are deep, like heaven and hell, life and death, the thinning of the ozone layer and the possible resulting mass drowning of the polar bears (so sad), etc…. Other topics I am interested in lately are not so deep, like would Tina Fey win if she ran for President or are Tom from Tom’s shoes and Tom from Tom’s toothpaste friends or who is Jake Gyllanhal dating now and will he be coming to Kansas City anytime soon?

I read a book recently called “Heaven is For Real”. It’s about a 3 year old kid who goes to heaven for three minutes and comes back, and over the course of the next several years he gradually talks about it. Btw… if you want to see a picture of the “real” Jesus according to this now 12 year old, check out Akiane Kramarik’s website. Apparently, she painted him spot on at age 8. It’s impressive.

Right after that I began reading “Love Wins” by Rob Bell. It is also about “heaven, hell, and the fate of every person”. These are subjects I’d prefer to be well versed in for my “big day” whenever it should come. I got two shots last week and wondered if Jesus would be nice and take me before my appointment, so I started reading these books.

I jest. That isn’t really the reason I started reading about these things, but I do get a little overdramatic about shots, “I’m gonna die!! Noo!! Don’t let her shoot me, Jesus!!” Sometimes we suffer for the greater good I guess. 

So these two books have two very different “feels” about them. One is cute and cuddly, black and white, and pretty straight forward. Think “kid” perspective. The other…well…I saw all the posts and comments about Rob Bell getting reamed for his book, so I will just say it’s…controversial (understatement of the Christian world), theological, political, and sort of the opposite of “kid” perspective.

As a result, I find myself in this tug-of-war between no longer “thinking like a child, reasoning like a child, and putting they ways of childhood behind me” (scripture reference for those who don’t know), in order to work through my own perspective, and “having faith like a child”. I guess my personal question is, when it comes to what I’ve been taught and even my interpretation of what I have read on many subjects, how much of my child-like faith has been in God and how much has been in Man? I guess that is where the kid me is turning to the adult me, and the adult me is asking…is Jesus in a bar with the priest, pastor, and rabbi? And if so, which one?  I need to ask them a few questions, plus they may know if Jake is available.

*The above picture made me chuckle.
June202011
I was sitting behind a red Kia today at a red light when to my surprise…no, SHOCK…the driver opens the car door and drops a to go box on the ground and shuts the door!! A TO GO BOX! My immediate reaction, obviously, was to try to generalize the judgment I felt in my heart for this “big” litterer. In case you are unawares, there are big and small litterers - those who littler with big things, like a to go box or larger, and those who litter with small things, like gum wrappers, or apple cores. So, for the next few weeks I will likely see a Kia, be reminded of this horrific incident, and say in my head, “I can’t believe those big littering, Kia drivers!” I, of course, have no legitimate judgment for Kia drivers. I, in fact, know so little about Kia’s or their drivers that should I not have seen this littering fiasco, the word “Kia” may never have crossed my lips. I mean I know more about metaphysics and tectonic plates than I do anything involving a Kia. But now, Kia’s and their drivers will be forever tainted in my mind…at least for a couple of weeks…or days…or until I get distracted by..well…anything and forget. But still. So, I am thinking about how terrible Kia driver’s are and how I am so glad I can’t think of anyone off the top of my head that drives one. (Sorry if you do. You should really think about what your kind has done. I mean you probably planned the thinning of the ozone layer and the melting of the polar caps. Well done.) Suddenly, I look down and realize that as I have been eating my Jimmy John’s veggie sandwich and Salt and Vinegar chips while driving, I was so focused on my judgment of big littering Kia drivers that I didn’t even notice I had lettuce, tomato, and maybe a bit of mayo all over my cardi and skirt. I was immediately filled with shame and disgust and said to myself, “I can’t believe those dangerous, slovenly, multitasking Honda drivers.”  “I think fish is nice, but then I think that rain is wet, so who am I to judge?” ~ Douglas Adams

I was sitting behind a red Kia today at a red light when to my surprise…no, SHOCK…the driver opens the car door and drops a to go box on the ground and shuts the door!! A TO GO BOX! My immediate reaction, obviously, was to try to generalize the judgment I felt in my heart for this “big” litterer. In case you are unawares, there are big and small litterers - those who littler with big things, like a to go box or larger, and those who litter with small things, like gum wrappers, or apple cores. So, for the next few weeks I will likely see a Kia, be reminded of this horrific incident, and say in my head, “I can’t believe those big littering, Kia drivers!” I, of course, have no legitimate judgment for Kia drivers. I, in fact, know so little about Kia’s or their drivers that should I not have seen this littering fiasco, the word “Kia” may never have crossed my lips. I mean I know more about metaphysics and tectonic plates than I do anything involving a Kia. But now, Kia’s and their drivers will be forever tainted in my mind…at least for a couple of weeks…or days…or until I get distracted by..well…anything and forget. But still.

So, I am thinking about how terrible Kia driver’s are and how I am so glad I can’t think of anyone off the top of my head that drives one. (Sorry if you do. You should really think about what your kind has done. I mean you probably planned the thinning of the ozone layer and the melting of the polar caps. Well done.) Suddenly, I look down and realize that as I have been eating my Jimmy John’s veggie sandwich and Salt and Vinegar chips while driving, I was so focused on my judgment of big littering Kia drivers that I didn’t even notice I had lettuce, tomato, and maybe a bit of mayo all over my cardi and skirt. I was immediately filled with shame and disgust and said to myself, “I can’t believe those dangerous, slovenly, multitasking Honda drivers.” 

“I think fish is nice, but then I think that rain is wet, so who am I to judge?” ~ Douglas Adams
June152011

Uniquely the Same

Joey: Man this is weird. You ever realize Captain Crunch’s eyebrows are actually on his hat?
Chandler: You think that’s what’s weird? Joey, the man’s been captain of a cereal for the last 40 years.

So five guys are walking together on one side of the street and 5 other guys are walking together on the other side of the street at the same pace, crossing at exactly the same part of the street on opposite sides. The first group of guys all have short hair cuts, t-shirts, and baggy shorts on. The other group of guys all have long curly hair, with tank tops  and super tight jeans on with the thick roll up on the bottom. This made me “LOL” in my car by myself today. I love how we strive so hard to be uniquely the same. 

Let’s all embrace our individuality…by shopping at the same stores and buying all the same clothes…

Let’s express ourselves with a unique haircut….we get from magazines of superstars…or our group of friends…

Let’s confidently be ourselves no matter our shape or size…within these specifications…

Women, let your power shine in all its intelligent, funny, and spectacularly beautiful glory…just enough to not intimidate the boys. 

Men, be the studly, manly man that you know you really are…just be prepared for the women to notice everything about you that’s not good enough. (ouch..harsh, right? But seriously…so true. Shh…I do this too sometimes.)

Oh, to find out and be who we are with and despite our influences.. and for whoever that turns out to be, to be OK…

(I just liked the quotes at the top from the hit tv series, “Friends” and wanted to share. If you are looking for a connection to the post…stop judging the Captain.)


June82011

Nostalgia

I used to believe that if a boy and a girl washed their clothes together, she could get pregnant. I discovered this wasn’t true after a freak out over seeing my brothers’ clothes in the washer with mine. And no, it definitely did not take a while to wholeheartedly believe and I most certainly did not still hyperventilate a little when I would see my brothers’ clothes touching mine in the laundry basket.

I also used to think that Sesame Street was a real place I could go to one day, on family vacation maybe, and meet Big Bird and if I was lucky, Mr. Snuffleupagus (my favorite). I also used to get stomach aches from watching Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood and even as a kid, never really wanted to be his neighbor. I sort of thought he should not have such friends at his age, and wondered if he might be a little crazy. I probably would have liked him better if I knew Mr. Snuffleupagus liked him. Any friend of Snuffy’s is a friend of mine.

As a kid, I also imagined I had a guardian angel quite often. Only the angel I imagined was not a beautiful late 20s-ish woman with long flowing blonde hair, a white toga, and a bright light shining around her. Nope, he was a He-man-esque giant in his early 30s with a lightsaber. I used to go back and forth with my prayers to God about him. “Please, let me see him?…….NO, no don’t. Okay, yes..please? Wait, no I don’t want to.” I still haven’t seen him…and I maybe sometimes still have this conversation.

Much like Woody and Buzz Lightyear, as a child, my toys and animals came to life at night. The stuffed animals were the good guys and my real life looking dolls that opened and closed their eyes and said creepy things when you pulled their strings were the bad guys. I used to keep my bad dolls on the top shelf of the closet surrounded by my army of stuffed animals, so I knew I was safe at night. The captain of the army was my Teddy Bear, who had the honor of sleeping on the pillow next to me. If ever I heard something, Teddy would check it out and let me know the coast was clear. I had a good army. Stood strong for many years…like into my teens. I cannot confirm or deny that Teddy may still be available if needed at night. I blame Disney.

“Some stories are true that never happened.”  ~Elie Weisel

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