ilovemylife

When all else fails in life, look at pictures like this...

and this...

and this...

...then repeat after me, "ilovemylife".

If that doesn't work, go here.

but...

I think I'm a G, but really I will forever be a junior higher at heart.

Can you tell why?

A million lip smackers to anyone who can guess the story behind this photo.

And yes, I post pictures when I am being lazy. Or perhaps it's simply because a picture really does say a thousand words...or whatever that phrase is. Or because I think I am funny.

i think i'm a g

Can you tell?

I think I might actually get a sunburn in the morning when I get ready.
Holla.

cheers!

Who knew doing the dishes in your undies could be so fun?

P.S. Sorry sister if this is not internet appropriate. Too good to pass up sharing this potential future blackmail.

did you say diddy-money?

[This post previously posted on Christmas. Here it is again, hopefully a little less difficult to follow, although I can't make any promises.]

There's nothing like a little Diddy to celebrate the birth of our Lord Jesus. Yes, that sweet, infantile baby Jesus. And yes, by Diddy I mean Puffy, by Puffy I mean Sean Combs. Have you heard his new album? If you haven't, I insist you buy it. And when you get that album, I insist that you listen to #5. But please don't judge me. After all, today is the day we celebrate the birth of our sweet Lord baby Jesus and he wasn't big on the whole judgment thing coming from anyone but him.

While we're on the topic of music you might as well get your hands on a copy of "Sleigh Bells." I might have found them because I am mildly obsessed with M.I.A. and they just might be on her record label. They might be kind of awesome, although I can't promise you their album has much to do with Christmas.

Speaking of which, did I ever tell you about the M.I.A. concert? Best. Night. Ever. Had it not been for my super awesome and fashionable walking boot (broken foot), I may have had even more fun. However I can't hate on the boot too much---it did make me some rather questionable friends waiting in line for the bathroom. Friends I would not have made had it not been for my awesome boot. But hey, I'll take props from anyone complimenting me on my ability to "rock it" despite an injury. Even if said person might have been killing time while her friend did a line or two in the restroom I happened to be waiting for.

Speaking of lines, I'm pretty confident the headliner of the night did a few of those herself before gracing us with her presence. However, once she was onstage she kept it clean. That is if you consider clear liquid that burns on the way down "clean". How else would one quench their thirst in between gyrating the crowd and climbing perhaps the world's largest speakers? If it weren't for the dancers dressed in graphic printed burkas, the very....um...sexual European (male) dancers, and the slightly inebriated lead performer on stage, I might not have fit in with my (need I say) awesome boot.

With the music on point except for some feedback due to the Guinness sized speakers squeezed into a club the size of my living room, I left the show on a mixed media, music pulsating, base pumping high. I had met my match. Well, less of a match and more of an alter ego. So with a pitter patter in my heart, a faint migraine forming in my frontal lobe, and a boot on my foot, I left the scene of my brush with musical chaos.

You may be wondering what this all has to do with Christmas, and to be honest, for a moment I wondered as well. I promise you it has nothing to do with the true meaning of Christmas but everything to do with the fact that today I received a year's subscription to "Rolling Stone" magazine, and I couldn't be happier. Now that is a good way to start the year.

things i find #5

In light of the holiday season I've decided to share with you a little bit of history. My history.


Here I am, in all my glory, the hot mess that I often am (and apparently always have been) on Christmas morning circa...'89ish.

Merry Christmas to all!

before i'm dead and gone

I've been known to talk about [swoon after] "The Buried Life" boys. I'm not sure if it's their boyish looks, fervor for life, or willingness to put themselves on the line that makes them so appealing. Either way Lord knows these boys have balls and a willingness to sacrifice them for the sake of living a full, adventurous life.

Since watching the first season of the show last winter I myself have thought about what my own buried list might look like. For those of you who have not seen the show, 4 boys (in their 20's) have created a collaborative list of the things they want to accomplish before they die (i.e. are buried). Such a list might also be knows as a "Bucket List", as in, "Before I kick the bucket, this is what I want to do with my life." My own list is elementary in comparison, although I've managed to a include a few things I would legitimately love to pull off at some point in my life. What I love about the show is these guys' willingness to drop everything, get a bus, and make shit happen. Now, I realize these guys have a T.V. show, financial support, and a huge following at this point, but they had to get the show, the money, and the bus somehow, right? You may call it chance or luck, but after watching two seasons worth of what some might call youthful antics, I see a bunch of ballsy guys willing to work for what they want.

Now the question is, can I say they same for myself?

Plenty of things have prevented me from accomplishing things I would have loved to accomplish by now. Part of me accepts that it is what it is and certain things will happen in their own timing. With that being said, however, how much am I taking a hold of my life to make things happen? I realize I cannot simply sit back and wait for my life, my dreams, my goals to happen; it just doesn't work like that. I know that, and yet the endless possibilities are strangely paralyzing. I hate that quality about myself.

So what am I going to do about it?

That is a great question for someone who is naturally adventurous. You'd think that "independence" would couple well with an adventurous spirit, but apparently there is a no two for one sale in that department. At the same time though I am quite adventurous. I am confrontational and seem to have no problem with honesty. I surprise myself sometimes with the things I say or am willing to do. I wish there were more of a pattern to go off of, but really I'm not sure how much consistency there is in regard to my spontaneity. You might say I'm a little bit "scattered". Perhaps I am more adventurous when in the company of good friends. Safe people. People I can be myself with. If that's the case, then I better get these people on board to help me get on with my list.

Speaking of which. What's on your list? If you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine.

things i find #4

Won't you please go camping with me?

i will be thankful

I'm about to be really, really honest with you. I have bruises on my elbows from Izzy & Frank (yes, I named my crutches), bruises on my knees from crawling up stairs, a swollen foot and a fat calf. Not to mention I've been shitting Vicadin for a week. Izzy's a bitch and Frank's just annoying. I've walked in the boot, sat in the boot, propped the boot, smelled the boot, and even danced in the boot. I've yet to name the boot because then I might forgo ownership of the boot. I own the boot. The boot does not own me.

It's amazing what freedom you give up with no right foot. Upon breaking your foot you might think, "Cool, so this hurts really bad," followed quickly by, "darn, I broke my foot, life goes on," which is then immediately trailed by a slew of...

"How do I get groceries?"
"How will I deposit this check?"
"Who will take me to work?"
"Which shoe will I wear today?"
"How many things can I safely carry up the stairs so I don't fall, and yet don't have to come back down for a second trip?"
"What are the chances someone will see me crawling up the stairs?"
"How long can I balance on one leg?"
"How far can I hop on one foot without Izzy & Frank, without falling?"
"I wonder what the neighbors think of me as they see me hop along, loudly and gracelessly?"
"How many more times will I answer the same damn questions about my boot?"

Seriously, the list goes on. They may seem like trivial questions to you, but over time it all becomes incredibly wearing. It's wearing to not be able to do what you normally do, to be out of your normal routine or the things you're used to. I realize it could be much, much worse, but the fact remains, I have no right foot. Sort of.

As cheesy, theologically incorrect, or evil as it may sound, I've already told two people, "If you're not careful, God's gonna do this to you too." Now, I don't necessarily think God did this "to me" but it does open the whole conversation up of "Did God let this happen to me?" I can't necessarily say I know the answer either way as I don't really think the answer is worth my time to think about. However, I realize that it happened (breaking my foot) and now I get to deal with the repercussions-er-I get to learn from the experience. One of my incredibly-super-awesome-wonderful-committed weekend volunteers asked me, after making sure I was OK, "Now what is the Lord teaching you?" Again, I realize that question could sound totally cheesy, but really, there's got to be something to it, right? At least that's what I'm telling myself.

One thing I have learned is what it looks and feels like to slow down. Mind you, my brain continues to flutter away at warp speed, but my body is humming somewhere around the rate of our growing economy. Not only am I learning this lesson, but those around me, those helping me, have also been forced to function at half speed. I'm only two weeks into this ordeal (I promise not to drag it out too long for you) so clearly I don't know where I'll be at come November 23rd (D-day), but I can't imagine continuing such a slow swag through life post boot. If anything I can say that I will be back to normal with a newfound appreciation for two feet. Yes, two feet.

Which brings me to Thanksgiving. I love Thanksgiving. It truly is my favorite holiday. What better day than one filled with food, family, pie, pajamas, and little to no real financial stress? If you're like 90% of traditional American families (I made that percentage up) then I wouldn't be surprised to find you circled with your family & friends at some point during the day, likely before ingesting your weight in potatoes, sharing what you are thankful for this year. You might even say, "This year I am thankful for...

"my family."
"my job."
"God's_____________."
"provision."
"our home."

Et al. Come that fateful 4th Thursday of November we find ourselves grateful for the great gifts we've been given and the blessings we've received. We remember the big things that happened in the past year hopeful those things will continue to bless us. But what if, just what if this year, I broke into your family-friendly circle of thanks and gave thanks for my foot? What if this year, instead of giving thanks for your new home, you gave thanks for electricity? Even better, maybe you could get a little more creative and share gratefulness for Thomas Edison's discovery of electricity. Or what if you gave thanks, not for provision, but for Reese's Peanut Butter Cups because they make you oh, so happy and bring joy to your life each time you eat them? Ok, maybe these are poor examples, but you get the idea. What if this year we looked past the big stuff to find joy and gratefulness for the small things in life. Like a functioning right foot and the ability to take a shower.

This is what I've got so far. I imagine there will be more. In the meantime, what are you thankful for?

things i find #3

I'm not sure about you, but I could use some laughter in my life right about now. Well, actually, there is plenty of laughter to go around, but you get the idea.



Oh yes, please, I would love some bear vomit [click to enlarge].

curious much?

Wondering about my adventure to see M.I.A.? Here's a little something to tickle your fancy until I get to that. Stay tuned.

P.S. What the crap does "tickle your fancy" mean anyways? Ohh, the inappropriate things we say.

ignorance is bliss

There is nothing like a broken foot to stop you, literally, dead in your tracks. There is also nothing like a broken foot to make you feel totally useless, a little lazy, overwhelmed, exhausted, underwhelmed, bored, and nonetheless totally annoyed and emotionally dramatic. I guess you could say I've spent a little too much time with myself in the last 3 1/2 days, which is definitely not a good place for me to be. Sure, maybe I have had or will have a multitude of life altering epiphanies, but I also can't help but rationalize them, blaming them primarily on the 48 hrs+ that I've spent on Vicodin.

As introverted as I may be, as much as I love T.V., being by myself, and being a homebody, there IS such a thing as too much of a good thing. T.V. lasted about 24 hrs, being by myself lasted about the same, and the whole "homebody" thing is about over. I've discovered I'm not very good at doing nothing. Actually, I've known this for quite some now, but knowing and feeling are two different things. I've KNOWN for some time that I am not good at doing nothing, but now I've truly FELT what it means to do nothing, so know I know know that I am not good at doing nothing. Some people have such a talent, to appreciate nothingness, but I am clearly not that person.

I've also never been (in my adult memory) this dependent on others. My roommate definitely wins the "Roommate of the Century" award. Too bad there's no such trophy for that. Even my close friends (co-workers) deserve kudos, or an honorable mention for "Friends of the Year". There should be a trophy for that one too. Oh yes, and "Sister of the Year" should be in there too. I'm often to busy being the do-gooder to let other people help me, and to really be able to appreciate others for what they have to offer. It's bittersweet on the other side. You may perhaps want to be in my shoes, but I'd rather be in yours. Like they say, the grass is always greener on the other side.

I'm not sure what "epiphanies" I've had. I've had a lot of thoughts though. Nothing life altering, but enough to make you stop in your tracks, get frustrated, then appreciate what's on the other side. It's true, ignorance is bliss. I would have been totally OK not knowing what a broken foot felt like. Who knew physical pain could actually bring you to tears? Not just any tears. Sobbing, snot out your nose, heaving air in and out, ugly cry-face kind of tears. Ever wonder what you looked like when you cry? I do. How else will I know if I have the ugly cry-face like that teen mom on "Teen Mom"? Poor thing. I bet nobody ever told her. Wonder what she thinks now that she's seen herself on T.V.

Any who. I'm really just starting to ramble now. Remember? That's what I do well. I may not ramble in conversation, but I definitely ramble when I write...when I think.

I'd really like to be done with this whole boot thing, but I better not start thinking that now. I've got 5 1/2 more weeks with this bad boy. Wish me luck! And if you happen to see my cry-face anytime soon, remember what I said. Ignorance is bliss.

10 things

Here are the 10 things I did or didn't do on 10-10-10:

1. Wake up in the middle of the night.
2. Fall on my foot going down the stairs.
3. Crawl up stairs on my hands and knees to get back to bed.
4. Call my sister to drive from LBC to take me to Urgent Care.
5. Beg my friends to cover me at work.
6. Not shower.
7. Crawl to the following locations: kitchen counter to eat breakfast, bedroom to get "ready", bathroom to brush my teeth (while sitting on the floor), the kitchen and pantry to get a snack (said snack also eaten while sitting on floor), and down the stairs to the car.
8. Drive to the wrong Urgent Care.
8. Get lost going to the second Urgent Care.
9. Piggy back on my sister from the car to the Urgent Care.
10. Fracture my foot.

Here are the 10 things that might not be so awesome this week:

1. Getting to work.
2. Showering while standing on one foot.
3. Crawling up and down the stairs at home (1 set to the front door, 1 set to my bathroom, and an additional set to my bedroom. Stupid townhouse).
4. Going to a super awesome club to see super awesome MIA.
5. 4th & 5th grade special event on Friday. 2 words: Bounce. Houses.
6. Feeling nauseous every time my food hurts.
7. Rocking the crutches--I think I might need a backpack.
8. Lack of groceries.
9. A fractured driving foot.
10. A super lame story to tell about how I fractured my foot.

And what, you may ask, could be awesome about this week?

1. Calling in sick.
2. Getting help from people.
3. Having an excuse to "catch up" on T.V.
4. Telling people my super awesome story about how I fractured my foot.
5. Fabricating fun stories I could tell people about how I fractured my foot.
6. Getting rides to work from my friends.
7. Laughing at myself for being retarded.
8. Figuring out how to do normal things in a not so normal ways, and laughing at myself in the process.
9. Watching "Clueless".
10. Letting other people take on my responsibilities (it's not like I don't do it for them!)

Ilovemylife.

club M.I.A.

So this is where I will be next Thursday with my hollywood girlfriend. Talk about sticking out like a soar thumb.

I'm so excited.

Ilovemylife.

no lazy susan

I haven't been this grateful for a day to end in a long time. Thank you Jesus. I've never more looked forward to putting pajamas on and turning off the world. While I may not be unplugging from my laptop or other such electronic devices, I am beyond grateful for the opportunity to unplug from the world, the week, this month, and today. Nothing particularly bad has happened. In fact, I'm beyond grateful for new and greater, deeper friendships than I've had in the past-er-ever. "Ilovemylife" is something you may hear me say throughout the day. And if you haven't heard it, just assume I'm thinking it.

Arriving at home today, knowing what lie ahead, I was in quite a mood. When Thursday comes, I want the day and week to be done. By Thursday I need space. I need quiet. I need to step aside and away, for just a moment. Tonight, however, would not be the night to do any of those things. So instead of lounging at home catching up on DVR, in the few moments I had, I put myself to bed. I cannot say I fell into a deep slumber, but a deep enough rest to ignore the hunger pang so strong I thought my stomach might turn itself inside out and begin appetizing on it's fellow organs. Upon waking I had a flashback of childhood. Of those few moments where nothing would fix my attitude except the nap I so desperately needed. It's amazing how loud your head and stomach can become when they are not pleased. In the moment before (and ultimately after) my slumber I realized just how loud my body can be. It's crazy how strong and selfish our bodies are. Selfish in this sense can be good and bad. Good because it tells me when I need to STOP. Bad because it will do anything and cross any path to make me do it.

It's my own fault for ignoring my body. I'm a shover, a pusher, and "power through it", a "figure it out", a "we'll make it work", "we'll make it happen", "I'll be OK" kind of person. While all of those things may be totally true and a part of who I am, it also means I will not deal with my own ish for the sake of making something happen and happen well. Just like when I am ravishingly hungry and willing to cross anyone or anything in my path to to satisfy my physical hunger, I am equally willing to plow through life ignoring my ish and avoiding *gasp* feelings for the sake of getting things done.

The concept of getting things done always brings me back to the story of Mary and Martha. In fact, this story has come up a few times in my life recently.

38As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. 39She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. 40But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
41"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, 42but only one thing is needed.[f] Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."
Luke 10:38-42

How often do I become consumed with the "doing" part of life? I'm no lazy Susan and I definitely don't spend much time with Jesus' feet. I want to choose the better choice, and I don't want it taken away from me. Our culture is so focused on the doing and getting things done, that we forget to experience the moment. The moments of joy. The moments of laughter. The moments of peace, sorrow, pain, and experiences we may face only once. We forget to experience God's presence, despite that fact that it is constantly smothering us like a coddled baby. I hate that about our culture. I hate that I've let it become who I am--or rather, what I do. I fill my days back to back feeling lazy if I don't. But when do I actually take the time to hear God's voice? How could I with the constant hum of this that and the other. You know the stuff. I don't need to tell you what fills your day, your ear, your wallet, your hands.

Jesus told the rich young ruler in Luke 18: 22 to "Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me." While some might say wealth was the young ruler's downfall, I think this is true only in the sense that the young ruler did as he was told making sure to follow the rules and commandments but left no room for the King. By the time the ruler came to Jesus asking for eternal life his hands were too full with the stuff of life to be filled with God's love.

So what's your stuff? What needs to go? God is in constant communication with us and prayer goes two ways. Prayer is not a speech, it's a conversation. God is God no matter what but if we want to experience that in its entirety then we must be willing to make room for him. We must be willing to give up our stuff, take up our cross, and sit at Jesus' feet.

things i find #2

Special branding for soldiers? I guess it's time we get our soldier's some fiber!

crap i find

Go Angels!

Location: Wedding reception parking lot


...too many witty comments to just pick one.

More to come.

follow me #3

Topic: Candy

I don't love candy. I'm not one of those people who just can't turn it down or can't stop myself from finishing a bowl of [your favorite candy]. I enjoy how much of it tastes. Some candies are so completely satisfying that I wonder why it hasn't been part of my life for such a long time. Why have I let myself miss out on such bliss? One thing I can't seem to turn down would be the love-it-or-hate-it joy that comes from none other than...candy corn. I don't think I am going to like it, but I know that I do like it because I have memories of liking it, so I try it, and I like it. I like not just the taste that reminds me of roasted marshmallows, but I like the memories associate with it. How often do we love things for the memories associated with it? As a kid I nibbled each layer down to the next in attempt to discover if each color had a distinct flavor. That's what I love about kids...their curiosity. Kids are curious, kids wonder, imagine, assume, and try things. I don't always love trying new things. I am adventurous when it's on my terms, but I don't love trying new things. I'm sure that makes me sound like a prude. I'm game for adventure, being silly, standing out for being ridiculous or trying new things, but only when I want to. Like I've mentioned before, I fear failure, I like perfection. I know I'm nothing close to it, but it's sure worth a shot. I'm talking to much about myself here. Let me start this over.

I dont' like candy, but I love candy corn. Candy corn is delicious, I have some on my side table that is currently taunting me in this semi-inebriated state so late at night after a long day. That was a run on sentence i think. Sorry about that. I hate those. I love editing. I would love to be an editor. I think it is seriously fun. What do you think is fun that most others might not? Math? Accounting? Chemistry class? Cleaning your toilet?

This is my brain on crack. Sorry about that. I never promised these would be good or interesting or make sense or be funny. These spaghetti thoughts are a release and a discipline for me. This is imperfection at it's best and me at my worst. Thanks for playing along...if you got this far. You don't know how much it pains me to hit the "publish post" button. That bright orange button staring me down and blinding my tired eyes. The pain is keeping me from hitting it...and continuing to make me ramble on. Again, sorry about that.

Did you follow? I don't blame you if you didn't. I didn't even follow myself.

Kbye.

play it again sam

I've had a lot of really serious conversations lately and I'm ready for a break. I'm like a kid in a candy store with his hands tied behind his back and the scent of candy corn wafting through the air. I'm ready to let loose and simply play. I'm all about being a listening ear and sharing my completely honest opinion when asked, but there is a time for work and time for play, and now I say, is time to play.

That's all.

thingsgirlssay

I may regret this, but check me out (no, not like that) on twitter at @thingsgirlssay

It can only get better from here.

[Please note tweets will made by myself and another. Speaking of which, remember when no one knew how to talk about Twitter in the past tense? Talk about inappropriate.]

follow me #2

I should be fired for my lack of blogging. Crap, I hate when people talk about their blogging habits within their blog. As you know, I enjoy writing. What you may not know is that in attempt to write the best, most perfect, fabulous, award winning blogs, I am often paralyzed by the thought of failure. So instead, I read other people's blogs.

In attempt to break that habit, I'm just going to write. Remember when I rambled like only a girl can do? Well, here you go again. A briefing into my spaghetti thoughts.

Topic: The VMA's

I love the VMA's. Have I ever told you that? I know you know I am slightly obsessed with all things black, with all things pop culture, with all things f-a-b-o-l-o-u-s. Speaking of which, it's unfortunate that Chris Brown got the bad end of the deal. Yes, he's a wife/girlfriend/woman beater, but you can't help but feel a little bad for the guy, right? He was like, 20 at the time. Not a great excuse, but who's to say I wouldn't go CRaAZYy if I became famous? Have you seeeen Lady Gaga lately? A meat dress? Come on woman. I might prefer being a vegetarian to doing that, and that is an unfortunate life to live. My life, on the other hand, is quite fortunate. I'm loving it. Loving life, and loving friends, experiences, work, my 20's. All of the above. Love it. What don't I love? I'm sure something. Ya, rather not dwell on that. I know OTHER people don't love life. I wish they would. It would sure make things better for the rest of us. If only people thought outside the box, outside of themselves. Have you seen that new show, "World of Jenks"? Seems like a good guy. I think this will for sure be a good one. Although it may have brought up some feelings of inadequacy regarding one of my many complexes in life (that I'm secretly retarded and my family [or someone] pays my "roommate"/caretaker to be my friend and watch over me while I go to "work" and learn life skills). Oh well, even if I am, all the more power to me. Why do girls have complexes? Is it a girl thing or just a "me" thing? Maybe it's a "I think too much and read into too much" thing. At least I'm able to find joy as I read between the lines. The Bible is a great place to do that too. Like when Jesus gets all pissed at people selling stuff in the temple. What does he do? His first instinct is not to yell, hit, punch, or throw a temper tantrum. Instead he braids a whip. First of all, who taught Jesus how to braid? And second, that's pretty freakin' intense to whip someone! He was clearly P.O.'d. Back to the braiding though...can't you just imagine Jesus chillin' in his jammies and dirty feet with Mary as she teaches him to braid just before bed time? I mean, clearly he needed to figure out what to do with those dreads of his so they wouldn't get all knotted up. Did he braid other people's hair? His disciples? Is that what they really did after they broke bread in the upper room? I can imagine it now: Jesus and the disciples laying on their big comfy couches having a sleep over with his BFF's, eatin' some leavened bread, sippin' on some purple drank, braiding each others' hair. OK, maybe it was just wine, but I couldn't help the pop-culture reference. See? Gotta love pop culture. It's like a full circle. And here I am, back at the beginning.

Did you follow?

signs you know you're watching the BET awards

[this post is thanks in part to my sister, Rev. Corrina]

Top reasons you know you're watching the BET awards:

1. The entire audience sings along to every song.
2. A gospel choir shows up in every song.
3. At least half the artists make references to artists who have recently done time.
4. You mistake at least one artist's mom for his girlfriend because, let's be honest, she probably had him at 14.
5. Everyone loves Jesus.
6. Everyone thanks Jesus.
7. Yolanda Adams performs.
8. Chris Brown does a tribute to Michael Jackson, who had already written a biography by the time said performer was born.
9. The show more resembles a pentecostal worship service than an actual award show.
10. You can't remember the last award that was actually given.
11. Queen Latifah's sexuality is still up for debate (thanks large in part to her own commentary).
12. During every commercial break you see an ad for anti-frizz hair products.
13. The only song featuring a white girl is performed instead by a black girl.
14. Eminem is still considered black (and still allowed to perform in above mentioned song).
15. Stevie Wonder makes an appearance and no one knows why.
16. Half the audience is wearing white.
17. Someone remakes a song originally sung by a white person, and does a better job at it.
18. The artist formally known as "Prince" joins in on his own tribute by wearing a shirt with a picture of himself on it.
19. Two names: Alicia Keys and Patty Labelle.
20. The audience leaves at the end of the night complaining of arm spasms (see #9).


Happy watching.

i have this problem

I have this problem where I think about things too much, I feel too much, I think some more, I get overwhelmed, I panic a little, think about it some more, freak, then make a decision. By no means do I love that I do this, it's just something I've always done. The trouble is, no matter how much I hate that I do it, it always seems to work. My best decisions are made over the course of some serious T-I-M-E. I do it with freakin' everything. Even you had to sit with me as I debated over Facebook. Facebook people, FB! What's so stressful about that?

Speaking of which, in case you haven't seen for yourself, I kept FB. Rather, I'm keeping FB. I realized a few things about it:

1. I don't like how OTHER people treat FB.
2. I don't want to turn into above mentioned people.

I used to think that if the only place I talked to a person was through FB, then they can't really be a "close" friend. While I think that remains true to some extent, I also realize that life and distance can and does get in the way of true friendships and familial ties. Because that is unacceptable, I have chosen to keep FB. It means more to other people than it does to me. And what can I say? I'm a people pleaser.

In other news, I still don't know what to "theme" this darn blog. Instead I will continue to blog what I want, when I want, hopefully more often than not. Did you notice my absence? I know you did. Well, I must admit it has everything to do with my opening statement regarding my obsession with thinking. Maybe somewhere not-so-deep-down I thought that if I gave myself an ultimatum, if I told myself I couldn't write another blog until it revealed my new blog theme, then I would come up with some fabulous idea, propose it to "Real Simple" and be the next "Julie & Julia". Unfortunately that's not how it works. So here I am, continuing to blog simply what comes to mind for whoever even read this darn blog. Wait, I just lied. I don't really write this for you. I write this because I write. That's what I do, it's how I process all those thoughts I otherwise become overwhelmed by. I like making you laugh, but really only because it made me laugh first. Welcome to my world. Welcome to the jungle.

writing and rambling

I've been writing and rambling on this blog for about two years now. I've gone through a few name changes and taken a leave of absence or two. As I write post 99 I am contemplating what 100 could be. A good friend (who didn't know I had a blog) told me tonight that I should start a blog. As much as I laugh at some of my own posts, I'd love to have a little more of a theme with what I I put out there for the world to read. I have a few ideas, but nothing concrete. With post 100 I'd like to start that journey...the journey of what "Scribbles" could be. Help me?

i made the jump

Well, not so much of a jump as it was a leap.

I joined FB again. I am a little bit hating that I did, but I am only committed to a week. (Side note: this is beginning to feel like..oh, what's the word? Not purgatory...when you ask forgiveness from your priest as a Catholic? I am such a terrible "religion" major. You get the idea. I'm confessing. OH YA! Confession. I feel like I am going to confession.)

So I rejoined FB. I HATE that it is so easy and that my whole profile is back up and running just as I left it. To be honest I haven't looked through it at all, but I can tell that it's me from 2 yrs. ago. That's a really odd thought. It's kinda like looking through one of those junior high journals I mentioned in an earlier post.

Judge me if you like, I really don't care. The deal is this: I am committing to 1 week of FB (until next Friday) when I will decide what to do with it. Chances are HIGH that I will be "deleting" it once again, but at least at that point I can tell people I tried. I give thanks? gratitude? credit? to one particular friend for this move. I am doing it solely for her. I doubt I'll keep it. At the same time I am interested to see what will happen with it. Ugh. This is the crap I HATE about FB. I hate the hold it can have on you. I hate that it represents my life. I care too much what is presented to others, so this is just one more thing for me to obsess over. Maybe I am in a better place though now? Who knows. I'll keep you posted.

This should be interesting.

a few things

To be totally honest, as I do so well, I haven't had many "blog thoughts" lately. I guess I am too busy living life. And I don't mean that in the "I'm too busy to talk to you" sort of way, it's just fact! Part of the problem is that I can't say I love talking about myself, what I did last week or this morning, or how I am feeling. Talking about such things are a little too "dear diary" for my taste. Besides, if I wanted to do that I could just get Facebook. Oops--did I just say that?

Speaking of which, the Facebook debate continues. I cannot tell you how many times I am asked in a week "you don't have Facebook?" or told "You HAVE to get a Facebook!". You'd think I was avoiding buying into the cell phone concept because of my awesome, see-through acrylic blue pager. Don't get me wrong, my mouth all but waters when I have the opportunity to sift through a photo album on Facebook. I feel slightly guilty for the sensation I get clicking vigorously through the photos as I try to soak in the contents of someone else's life. I would say the feeling is somewhat comparable to flipping the latest "People", although perhaps better because these people I actually know (unless I get a little too crazy and end up on a page I could not even trace my steps back from). Gosh I sound like such a stalker, but maybe it's because I am! Ok, perhaps I revealed too much. Crap.

Well, there are my current thoughts on Facebook. I actually considered reactivating my account today for a week or so to "try it out". While I am at it I am going to pick up some crack to share with a heroin addict down the street for the week to see if he's is still addicted. With that being said, I am sticking to my guns and continuing my Facebook BREAK.

In other news, I realized how freakin' seriously I've taken life until, well, now. If you know me at all you know I am a clutter nazi. I hate clutter. It makes me a little nauseous and I will gladly do without. In light of that I took time this week to sort through my closet. Mind you, I probably have a lower tolerance for things needing to be sorted through than is probably healthy, but I love it nonetheless. In the process of sorting through the typical girlish fair that I probably did not need in the first place, I decided to sift through a box of photos and journals. These were my initial observations:

1. I have written a LOT in my short life.
2. I was quite a tubby child.
3. I don't have any desire to go back to any point in my life.

Mind you, that last point is not to say I had a terrible life or lived a miserable existence. However, I would SO much rather live the life I have now. I am not super awesome, wealthy, popular, or talented, but I know that I am created in God's image and he has given me great abilities. Nothing is too big or scary to try (?), nothing is too embarrassing to share. Laughing is ALWAYS more fun. Nothing is the end of the world except the end of the world, which I have no control over. Control is overrated and perfection impossible.

As I read through journals dating back to Jr. High I literally cringed at the things I put so much though and energy towards. I'm sure I'm not the only one to devote probably a book's worth of pages to the boy I liked, but in reading those pages I was reminded of the anxiety, stress, and frustration I put myself through. I thought too much. I wrote too much. I feared life and what it would do to me.

So here I am, at 23, probably more naive and ignorant than I'd like to admit, but I am truly happy. God has given me the peace and joy I've prayed so diligently for this year. After all, ignorance is bliss-right?

facebook break

Did you ever participate in "Model UN"? I did. I was pretty terrible at it and I assume the only reason I was a part of it was because I was forced to as a part of taking advanced classes. As an 8th grade class we discussed politics and current events, always picking a side to defend. Sometimes our side was determined for us in attempt to challenge our way of thinking and strengthen our debate skills. At least once we went to a Model UN conference of sorts where we debated other kids from other schools. We arrived in our yellow school bus wearing black business attire with sack lunches in hand. The black attire was about as much "business" as I accomplished that day. I was [am] a terrible debater.

You see, my problem is this: I constantly debate everything in my mind. I think things over and over and over again until I come to my own conclusion on things. I can always see both sides of things, which ultimately challenges my ability to choose and debate one side of a topic or argument. However, when it comes to day to day life/moral/ethical/practical decisions I can be pretty cut-throat. I know right from wrong, stick to it, and have strong opinions. Politics and current events are difficult for me to wrap my mind around.

You know what else I can't seem to wrap my mind around? Facebook. Good 'ol FB. People love it, hate it, love to hate it and love to love it. I literally cannot think of one person over the age of 12 in my life that doesn't have FB. My mom has it, my grandparents, friends, teachers, co-workers, boss--you name 'em they've got it. Except me. Don't get me wrong, I had FB at one point. I went through my Myspace phase towards the beginning of college and rocked it like all the hard-core emo kids with droopy, smudged eyes, faded photos and camera angles from far above or to the side. [Ok, maybe I didn't rock it that much]. That lasted at least a year or two until I went to the other side. I joined FB.

It confused me at first--yet another thing I could not wrap my mind around. Once I finally understood the concept of people wanting to know what I was doing at every moment of the day, and how to document the lives of my friends through digital albums that took eons to load, I was hooked. To know what my friends were doing, to catch up or at least find old friends from decades not so long ago was a thrill. I quickly joined the ranks of snoops emulating the FBI. My everyday conversations became convoluted with FB references as it had clearly tainted every aspect of my life. It became one more thing to check, one more thing to keep up on. I loved stalk--er--catching up on people's lives more than sharing my own, although that could be potentially fun as well. FB quickly became a part of life for my generation and those before me in about as much time as it takes for a jr. higher to finish off a bag of skittles.

What's the problem you ask? Did you notice the last few paragraphs were written in the past tense? Well, it's because FB was a part of my life. Over a year ago I decided that I didn't like the hold it had on my life. I wanted to start living in the present focusing on my life instead of being consumed by the lives of others. It's far too easy for me to compare my life to others, and FB is a great tool for doing that. FB is the polished version of ourselves. It is everything we want to share with the world and nothing that's too private. If you go on FB and pick a photo album to sift through, chances are slim you'll find a picture of the author lounging on the couch watching T.V. in pajamas while eating popcorn with unbrushed hair (not a personal jab, I promise). Instead you'll find pictures from a vacation to Cabo, a night out with friends, the last time you went to the beach, and all awesome, documentable adventures people go on. While all those things are great, I hate finding out about my "friends" lives like that, and even more I hate when I look through pictures wishing my life was something it wasn't.

The fact is, I love my life and am having so much fun-almost too much fun. Why rock the boat? Why fix what ain't broken? Maybe I should take a chance, maybe I should try it out again. Maybe, maybe, maybe. The forever debate running in my head. The one I may never figure out without taking that chance.

Insights welcome.

WONDER

2010 has brought a lot of change in me. Change that I so desperately hoped for without expecting it to happen. What change you ask? Well, first, I don't think I've never been as happy as I am. Second, I've never had this much fun. Third, I've never been this adventurous. Fourth, I've never felt this confident. I'm incredibly grateful for such changes and continue to be excited for what's in store for me.

For the longest time now I've had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that God has BIG things in store for me. I realize that "big things" is a very loose term which could mean multiple things on many levels. I have no clue what these BIG things are or how they will play out, but I trust that God has a plan for my life. I am trying to wait patiently to see what these BIG things are, but I cannot help but WONDER. I WONDER when these big things will happen. I WONDER what these big things are. I WONDER who will be involved and what it will look like.

WONDER is an exciting thing. In WONDER I find a sense of hope and confidence in what the future will bring. In WONDER there is a sense of looking forward to something. The possibilities are endless and the dreams are BIG. But to be honest, I don't even know what to dream about.

As a little girl I dreamt of many, many things, and I dreamt them over and over and over. Part of the thrill of dreaming was the opportunity to plan and let me tell you, I'm a planner. What better combination could there be? The only problem with that now is that you cannot plan what you do not know. The possibilities are endless and I'm trying my hardest to be OK with that. I am trying to be OK not knowing and OK waiting. I'm not about to box myself in with a plan of my own, although sometimes I think that would be much easier. I have a few ideas of my own, which are about the size of a mustard seed. And while that may seem small, I know it could mean BIG things.

WONDER what some of my ideas are? Stay tuned and maybe I'll share.

To be continued...

ONE

I'm beginning to feel and see a lot of change around me. It's a bittersweet feeling, but something I asked for I guess.

You see, a few weeks back my pastor asked us to choose ONE thing to pray for this summer. ONE thing we wanted. ONE thing we wanted to know. ONE thing to continually bring to the Lord in prayer. Initially I didn't know what my ONE thing would be as it is difficult to choose just ONE thing when the possibilities and curiosities are endless.

In the end I decided to pray for this: What next step am I supposed to take?

Like I said, there is a lot of change surrounding me. Until now little of it has directly affected me. Even now the change still doesn't have anything to do with me but will affect me long term and change the dynamics surrounding me. It is a bittersweet feeling, but one that I know is right.

...to be continued.

you're so welcome

I'm turning into my sister. And by that I mean that I am quite the techy-multi-tasker and internet junkie these days. I'm not saying it's a healthy obsession, but give me a break already--a girl's aloud a vice or two, right?

Here are my two favorite websites, totally worth the time it will take you to follow the link. I promise you. Just be prepared to get sucked in. And try not to judge.

www.peopleofwalmart.com

www.awkwardfamilyphotos.com

You're so welcome.

P.S. If the links don't work, just cut and paste.

if I had a twitter...

this is what I'd tweet:

@lli$on

Thursday lunch: Yep, Hanging out with my good friend Kelly Rowland (Destiny's Child) at @UrthCafe. Officially my new favorite eatery.

Thursday snack #12: Who knew so many froyo flavors existed outside the O.C. gates? I love you nutella flavored yogurt. I love you @Twirl.

Thursday appetizer: Hey Charlie from "The Hills"! Thanks for hanging out today. Your mom seems really super.

Thursday snack #17(1): @Twirl, I won't judge you for cleaning out the Nutella machine if you don't judge me for eating yogurt twice in one day.

Thursday evening: Note to self: 1. Start ministry union, 2. Start movement to double the salary of people in ministry union, 3. If previous actions fail, begin strike, 4. When that fails, get over yourself and be grateful for what you have.

Thursday later evening: So it IS possible to go to the same store at two different locations and buy something different at each one. Thanks @nthropologie! You make my life just swell.

RT @KatOss: Spotted A.Mo stalking celebs...Hopefully she won't get caught, you know you love me xoxo KatOss

(1) Also, please don't judge me for documenting my day by meals and snacks.

Thanks. You're welcome.

GAM

Please, please, please go to this website and read through as much of it as you can.

http://www.deargirlsaboveme.com/

Your welcome.

You can thank me later.

A.mo

what makes YOUR IBS flare up?

Crap, why does John Mayer make such good "let's contemplate my life" music? I'm not sure what it is exactly. I'm not sure if John Mayer even contemplates his own life considering all the *cough* respectable life choices he seems to make. But who am I to judge? For all I know he sits in his underwear strumming away at his guitar in rainy weather drinking chamomile tea while writing in his journal and staring at the stars. While I may not be as talented, coordinated or have such an ability to multi-task, I have had some contemplative moments in the last few days. Maybe it has something to do with actually having days of with no agenda and nothing to do? Man, I should really get me some more of those--then I'd be really awesome.

All that to say, here's my question for you: What call in your life most scares the crap out of you?

And by scared I mean:
1. Makes you want to vomit
2. Pisses you off a little
3. Makes you actually consider running a marathon in the opposite direction
4. Makes your IBS flare up
5. Actually makes you consider the Peace Corps as a good, albeit "long term" option

And I don't mean:
1. Makes you jump for joy like you just unstuffed a box of kleenex in under a minute
2. Makes watching "The Bachelorette" with your significant other sound like the best idea EVER
3. Makes Ali look like a real winner (See above)
4. Inspires you to start selling "Texas Tails" like it was the best invention ever made (akin to the "Bump It")
[here is my other shameless plug for this also incredible creation for all those hoping to add a little "pop" to their life, i.e. girls who wish they were black]
5. Tricks you into thinking these are the classiest girls EVER (1)

Now, I hope that wasn't too distracting for you. Offensive? Maybe. Distracting? Who am I kidding--I just distracted myself.

Back to the original topic (which ironically has absolutely nothing to do with any of the things listed above). So, what call most scares the crap out of you?

Today I realized that whatever that "call" is on your life is probably the thing you are actually meant to do. Me? What scares the crap out of me? Ministry. But don't worry, I'm still in denial on this one. The thing is, I'm pretty damn good at at, or maybe I am just responsible and hard working, but either way it seems as though everything in my life has pointed me in exactly the direction I am going. I've avoided it as much as possible. I've tried to think of other things to do with my time and talents. I've come up with some pretty good ideas in the process too. But the thing is, while those are all great, I don't think they are for me. I think where I am is where I'm meant to be, for now.

You see how I added that "for now" thing at the end there? That's the denial. I say it not because its true but because adding it to any statement immediately makes the statement seem less permanent and therefore less scary. Adding "for now" adds a sense of hope and that everything-will-be-OK feeling only your mom, baby blanket, and cake can give you. Apparently "for now" is a commitment phobes life mottow--which I am beginning to wonder if I am. I don't use the phrase often, just on the important things I guess. Crap.

Clearly this is a work in process for me and I imagine it is for you too. I'm not sure at what point this call with settle well with me. I'm not sure if it ever will. Scripture says God will give me the desires of my heart (Psalm 37:4); he never said he would make sure I was comfortable in the process.

(1) Have you noticed yet that I probably watch too much late night T.V.?

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Thanks for listening. I've mentioned it before and I'll say it again, I'm writing this for no other reason than to share my spaghetti thoughts with you and hopefully give you a laugh. And if you didn't follow, go back to the beginning, read it again, and see if you can figure me out. I dare you.

[ˌmisəˈlānēəs]

It's really too bad John Mayer is such a man-whore; he makes some pretty damn good rain-in-July music. If rain-in-July had a musical equivalent "Continuum" would be it.

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Apparently I don't text very well. But you see, that's just it--I don't text well when I don't like you. Boo-ya. The criticism's all yours.

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Do you ever find yourself unknowingly giving dirty looks? Well, not so much "unknowingly" as "oops-did-I-just-make-that-face-out-loud?"
I tend to do it most often when:

1. I'm tired
2. I don't care
3. You just did something retarded
4. You deserved it
5. You should really stop doing that

...I'd say such looks are uncommon coming from me, but really I just usually do a better job keeping the looks to myself.

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No amount of time will prepare me to "get back into the swing of things" at work or home. So for now I am pretending everything is vacation. Work tomorrow? Just a little blip in my day. Need to have a meeting with me? Sorry, I'm on vacation. Need me to drop something off in the building? Sorry, on vacation. Answer the phone? Return your e-mail? Vacation. I'll get back to you when I feel like it, thank you.
[Side note: any thoughts on making this my "out of office" return e-mail?]

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Just when I thought I was "in", I had one of those cool-kids-at-the-lunch-table moments, and I was on the wrong end. Haven't felt like that since J. High when my 3 "really cool" friends and I ate lunch together-er-seperate from everyone else. OR when my caring "friends" so considerately referred to me by their loving-if not descriptive-pet name, "Powder". Good thing I brought my own lunch, I didn't want to eat your grubby, processed shi-I mean, food, anyways.

Seriously though--shafting people is about as cool as LiLo becoming plastic. While you're busy being a "typical selfish, back-stabbing slut-faced ho-bag" I will happily maintain my status as the "home schooled jungle freak" (1).

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Thanks for listening. Please join me again soon in the midst of my infinite abyss (2).

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1. Anyone?
2. Anyone?

picture worth a thousand words

You know the phrase, "I'm a little bit country, a little bit rock and roll"? Or maybe it's a song lyric (have I ever mentioned that I rarely pay attention to the lyrics--except for the really inappropriate ones you just can't get past?). Well, I'm definitely NOT country, and I wouldn't say I am much rock and roll either, but I am a little bit of a few things.

I'm a little bit grandma.
I'm a little bit gangsta.
I'm a little bit tired.
I'm unfortunately a lot gluten free.

Picture worth a thousand words:

you know you are tired when...

1. You are wearing the same shirt/short/flip flop combo for the 4th day in a row.
2. You drive across the street to go to work.
3. You use the railing to pull yourself up the stairs.
4. You go to bed at 8:30pm (and sleep through the night).
5. You go to the cupboard for oatmeal and bring out popcorn.
6. You find a bowl under your bed from the time (2 nights ago) you woke up hungry in the middle of the night (which happens more than you would think).
7. You continue to sit on the floor, fearful of the day, after 29 other people have managed to stand up and get going.
8. You cry. A lot. In front of your boss(es) and volunteers.
9. The only thing to truly make you laugh is a picture of a little boy SO excited to be at VBS that he would piss his pants (seriously, how did that get on the website?)
10. Your roommate finds you crying alone in the bathroom.
11. You hug your roommate (we don't hug).
12. Just thinking about the day makes you start crying.
13. Out of desperation, you look up the name of a resort you saw on "The Hills" in the possible hopes that maybe, just maybe you could afford a spur-of-the-moment trip to Costa Rica.
14. You refer to the world's slowest sales associate as "Molasses Wednesday".
15. You fall UP the stairs.
16. You literally crawl from one room to another.
17. Telling a story sounds more like speaking in tongues while wearing a retainer.

Gosh, I sound like such a pansy. Whatever.
I don't really care what you think :)

the numbers game

Generally speaking I am not a big fan of the "numbers" game that often gets played in so-called mega churches. I don't love when numbers are spouted off after a major church event, or even the smaller ones. I hate comparing the number of kids that attended an event this year to last like I hate dwelling on that dumb number on the scale each fateful time I walk into the doctor's office (I've learned to avoid my own scale---pretty sure it's buried in some black hole in my bathroom, never again to see the light of day). However, this week I have been reminded why numbers matter.

Last year I attended a conference where a very well known pastor and author made a bold statement when asked about the "numbers" he so often rattles off and celebrates. He is pastor to a big church. And by "big" I mean BIG (think Biggie, not Tupac size). He is what you or I might call a "big shot". You either love him or hate him but and this particular interview I was at least learning to appreciate him. When asked about the numbers game his response was this:

"Numbers matter because each number represents a person, and each person represents life change."

To that I can agree. No more can I agree to it than this week when I saw 2,024 kids walk on to my church's campus with some 750+ volunteers in tow. I'm already beginning to hear stories about life change, and it's only day one. Through weeks like this you see the lives of kids change through the volunteers who are being challenged as leaders and spiritual "guides" (we literally call them guides) and the work God does through them. When 750+ volunteers step up to serve the Kingdom, life change happens. Kids learn to serve. They learn about Jesus. Friendships are formed and relationships are built. Each one of those 2,024 kids is a life that matters, a life that can elicit change in their own family and community. Each one of those lives matter, and I can give you the names of 750+ volunteers who would agree with me.

Thanks for letting me be a little cheesy today. You know I'm always good for some sarcasm, so I'm sure I'll get back to that soon enough. For now, xxxo GIGA (God Is Always Good--HA!) Ok, sorry I just wrote that out....might regret that later.

here we go (again)

Today is day one, which is really day two, which is actually day three.

While today is the actual start, yesterday was set-up, and I'm already on day three of wearing this quite flattering blue t-shirt. And by flattering I mean not. Although I'm definitely not complaining in comparison to last year's neon green shirt.

This is day three of 8 actually. It will all be over in just 8 days. This shirt I will don 8 flattering times. I'm definitely going to find my husband in this shirt. Can't wait.

In all honesty, so far, so good. I think 2010 has been preparing me for this very week. At that moment when you think you might snap or break, laughter sets in and you [I] just can't stop. Laughter really is the best medicine. If the delirium I experienced yesterday is any sign of what is to come, this could be a very funny week. And by funny I mean tiring. And by tiring I mean fun. And by fun I mean exhausting. However, I've made it through this once before. I've done all I can do. I've organized and purged all possible knowledge, experience, and organization I possibly can. Now it's time to let others step in [God included] and rock it.

...to be continued.

this week

You know that feeling of wanting to start something just so you can get it over with? Like doing a presentation or starting a project school related or not. Well, that's exactly how I am feeling. It's a bittersweet feeling. I genuinely want to start something. But even more, I want to be done with it. Currently I'd rather be in the middle of it than waiting around for it. And at the same time I'm dreading it.

I've spent a relatively unsuccessful weekend relaxing. Considering how much I love being home, how much I love doing nothing on the couch, how much I love T.V. and being alone, I'm not very good at the whole "relaxing" thing. Maybe I should get one of those "Frankie Says RELAX" t-shirts that came from my generation (although I admit I was likely in diapers at the time the shirt was popularized). Maybe if I added that to my nightshirt rotation the phrase might somehow seep into my pours and take hold of my mind and body. Hmm, remind me to do that.
[P.S. How did I manage to sound like a loner night-shirt-wearing-grandma stuck in the 80's in a matter of three sentences?]

This week (and today) have been a long time coming, and arrived quicker than a plane with no wings. Let's hope the landing goes OK.

This week is exhausting to think about, so I'm [sort of] trying not to do that. I'm praying for super human strength and the ability to take things one at a time. I'm hoping (and planning) on enjoying this week. Hope and pray with me!

...to be continued.

brooklyn vs. laguna beach

For being in Children's Ministry I listen to some pretty trashy music. While most people jazz themselves up for Sunday morning with a stop at Starbucks on the way into the 9am service or with the hope for a between service donut, I get my swag on by listing to T.I.'s "Swing ya rag" or the good ol' standby, Jay-Z on my 2.5 minute commute. My latest addition to the playlist? Christina Aguilera & NIcki Minaj's "Wahoo". If you know Christina, or have perhaps come across one of Nicki's latest slew of features in popular rap songs, this song is no "Genie in a Bottle". But don't worry, I bought the "clean" version.

Speaking of which, what passes for "clean" these days is quite open to interpretation. Not only in music, but in T.V. as well. Unless I am on my own on this one, I'm pretty sure there was an unedited F-bomb dropped at the MTV Movie Awards on cable T.V. a few weeks back. But I'm not here to judge. (Note here that I am only adding to the pile of evidence proving my tendency to listen to trashy music).

At one point I owned actual worship CD's, well, probably burned copies, but worship music nonetheless. I liked it. I listened to it. I moped around my room to it in my teenage angst. I'm not sure where all those CD's ended up--probably in Panama along with my baby blanket that I swear is keeping a small child warm at night. I mean, it's got to get cold at night there, right? Crap. It's amazing what you'll tell yourself to make losing your fondest childhood memento hit you in the gut a little less harshly.

Back to the worship music. I'm really not sure what happened to all that music, but I definitely don't own any currently. Unless you count U2, which is still up for debate. I could buy some. There is bound to be a "Top 10 Christian Downloads on iTunes" list, but really I'd rather check the "Genius Recommendations" which currently list the following suggestions:

1. Drake, Thank Me Later
2. Eminem, Recovery
3. Drake, 9am in Dallas
4. The Bravery, Live at the Wiltern...
5. 3OH!3, Double Vision
6. Weezer, Represent
7. Ice Cube, I Rap that West
8. The Gaslight Anthem, American Slang

...and quite a few others. Oh look!

9. Jesus Culture, My Passion

Hmm, I wonder how that ended up on there? I must have something with "Jesus" in the title buried in my rap & alternative laced iTunes library. However, in my defense Coldplay's "Parachutes" happens to be my number 1 played song with a play count of 259. While it may not be "Christian" music at least it's clean, right?

To be honest, I don't feel much remorse over my lack of the Red Man, Song on a Hill, or other Christian goodness. Personally I think it's funny when I catch myself listening to Snoop Dogg & Pharell's "Drop it Like it's Hot" or the New Boyz' "Skinny Jeans" while editing small group lessons and writing volunteer e-mails. Sometimes that's all that keeps me going through the day.

Speaking of getting through, who get's motivated for a good workout by listening to "Blessed by Your Name"? Let's be honest people, it just doesn't work like that. Maybe I'd give in to it for a stretching session at the end of a good burn, or perhaps a contemplative walk along the beach (really though, how often does that actually happen?) if you paid me with frozen yogurt at the end. There is nothing like turning Destiny Childs' "Survivor" or Christina's "Fighter" on to get your butt in gear.

I am definitely not judging you, your taste in music, or likely extensive collection of the Red Man. This is just one of those ironic thoughts I think is funny. There is really no other reason for sharing this with you than to hopefully get a good laugh out of it for you. I love my rap. I love my hip hop. I love that people never expect it out of me. I come across as more of a Jack Johnson, Taylor Swift kind of girl. While I think I own both those albums, they are pretty far down on my play count list. Sometimes I think I was born in the wrong body, or rather the wrong colored body. Or at least in the wrong town. When it comes to music, I'm a little more Brooklyn, a little less Laguna Beach. I like it that way, And I look forward to many more dance parties to keep me laughing, and to keep you on your toes.

there was a spider in my bed tonight

I must admit, although you already know, that I have totally slacked at blogging in the last few weeks. I have had numerous "blog thoughts", but as much as I wish I could remember every one of those thoughts, I must admit it's a talent I have yet to learn.

I'm currently in the midst of VBS. I hate to be the Children's MInistry person who makes a bigger deal of it than necessary, but it really is a draining time of year. It takes a special breed of people to make VBS happen, and for that reason alone I am beyond grateful for the volunteers I have on my team this year. I'd say it couldn't be done without them, but I know that's not necessarily true because I am pretty sure that's exactly what happened last year; the "Ali Show" as I like to call it. Honestly the thought of the S*** that hit the fan last year makes me well up with tears.

But on to other things...OK, that's all I got. My mind is a bit consumed with VBS right now. I'll keep you posted if I have any witty, smart things to share with you. I always do--it's just a matter of me writing them down.

Sorry to bore you with my life. I prefer topical blogs than talking about myself. But this will have to do for now.

P.S. No, the title had nothing to do with the blog. Just thought I would share that fact with you.

storytime

No, it's not reading time for your toddler.

Although memories of tattered old books, visions of mommies and their toddlers (or nannies in my case) and the dingy smell of library books and baggies of stale goldish might come mind when you think of "storytime", the storytime I am talking about is a little different. The storytime I am talking about elicits visions of an old guy leading equally old worship songs, my pastor and his entourage furiously scribbling down notes, the smell of burnt coffee, and awkward attempts to instigate a varity of emotions through christianese taglines like "this is a story about God's ability to shine in the closet of life" come to mind. Ok, no one ever said that last tagline, but it's pretty darn close to the gems I get to hear every Tuesday, bright and early.

Like I said, every Tuesday our staff comes together to tell stories of what is going on in our respective ministry areas. What started as an opportunity to celebrate what good God is doing throughout our church somehow morphed into what feels like a show and tell-off to get credit and approval for our hard work. Notes are written on a variety of non-iPads (i.e. steno pads), cameras roll tape and game faces are put on. Some love it, some hate it, others just get through it.

I think I am in that last category. In my two years of staff I've shared a few stories, even gotten a few laughs and a shout out or two (bonus points in my book). But generally speaking I look at the stories, the worship, the filming and the awkward silences simply as the start to another Tuesday. The least I'll get out of it is a good laugh at the guy who loves singles ministry an calls me (quietly) "the next children's pastor" and the girl who coughs into the mic (my rommate).

However, lately there is added pressure for us to share at storytime. I'd rather not, but I am willing. I am not quite sure what the drawback is for me. Here are the thoughts that usually go through my head on Monday night in preparation for an early Tuesday start:
1. My story is incomplete
2. My story is cliche
3. My story is boring
4. My story is short
5. My story is not funny
6. Someone else will tell their story, why do I need to share one?
7. I don't have a story
8. I don't like [insert person writing on steno pad in front of me] and I don't want to play along in this game.
9. His/her/their story is much better than mine
10. No one died in my story
11. No one got "saved" in my story
12. Everyone else's story was years in the making and I am only 23.
13. Suck it

Ok no, I don't usually think that last one, but maybe a little small part of my feels that way.

As good as it is to celebrate that God is good, there is something about the gloating--at least how I see it--that drives me bonkers. Storytime seems contrary to that whole "humility" thing we talk about so frequently come the 5pm, 9 & 11am services. Maybe it's all in my head. Or maybe this is one of those "mega church" things I will just never be used to. I'm still not used to all the number reportig stuff, but at least now I expect it. I cannot help but feel like the stories are contrived.

But that is the cynic in me.

I realized something important last week. My supervisor said somethig along the lines of,

"If we don't have stories from the moment and weekend when we are exhuasted, then we need to reevaluate why we are so exhausted becuse we definitely feel it often."

It's true. I'm tired pretty often. This past weeked was a perfect example. Excluding the personal life stuff I did last weekend (was there any??) here's an idea of what my weekend looked like:

Friday: Sleepover with Jr. Highers (pool, food, movies, breakfast...)

Saturday: shopping for parent/Jr. High meet & greet, church*, set up for services, set up meet & greet, blow up balloons, train summer intern, church, clean up, change clothes,
Jr high awards ceremony...home.

Sunday: pick up donuts, set up meet & greet, get service started, head to Jr. high service 25 mins in to see small group girl speak, back to church, meet & greet, church, clean, kick people put, training meeting, home.
*Small Group Celebrations weekend

Attention: This is not an attempt to get your sympathy. This is an extreme (but very real) depiction of a weekend in ministry.

As you can see, a lot happens in a weekend. And the same goes for my personal life. You are no different. You are not excluded from this lifestyle; chances are you're right their with me. But if there are no stories from all we do, and by these I mean the (dare I say) "God stories", then what's the point? Life is worth living when everything you do is for God. Our efforts should not be done in vain to better ourselves or make ourselves look better. Ultimately our efforts only matter when we do them to honor God and bring others to know his name. Our efforts should be for the Kingdom.

I'm nt always good at this. To be honest I'm down right bad at it more often than not. But it's a thought. A thought I am processing and workng through. Unfortunately I think this is one of those things that will always be a work
In progress.

I'd rather work.

if I had a twitter...

...this is what I'd tweet...

@lli$on

Monday: Surprise! I still have my V-card. Never had someone "notice" that about me.

Wednesday: You know it's bad when you make a purchase at a certain unmentioned clothing establishment, go to put the receipt in your wallet, only to place it on top of another receipt from already mentioned clothing establishment. Oops.

Friday morning: Who says playgrounds are for kids? Stupid big kid rules.

Friday afternoon: Add something to your [babysitting] resume everyday. Today? Making luminairies.

Friday late afternoon: Never go to a wedding if you were kicked out of the wedding party a month before the big day--unless you plan on showing up in your already purchased bridesmaid dress.

Friday evening: Didn't know you needed gloves to use the elyptical. I should get me some of those.

Friday night: You know you are tired/lazy/exhausted/lacking an Internet connection when you actually contemplate, then start to watch "Hocus Pocus" instead of getting a DVD from downstairs.

Hope you enjoy my thoughts. Clearly I do.

glutton for home

At the start of every year my pastor goes on a rant of some new devotional book or style that he wants us all to do together. Sometimes he promotes a book, or maybe a "through in a year" type of Bible, but his ultimate goal is to get us into the Word. Along those same lines, he is also open about his own personal journey through Scripture and how he approaches his devotional time.

A few years ago he shared with us that each day he devotes two pages of his journal to such a time. On one page he lists at least ten things he is thankful for, trying to be aware of even the smallest things in life. On the other page he spends time using one acronym or another to talk to God (as if God prefers poetry to non-fiction).

Something about the "thankful" page stuck out to me. When 2010 began I decided to utilize a similar style of devotional time, putting emphasis on the thankful. To be honest, I haven't kept up with it as much as I'd like but there is joy in each list I create and a sense of peace. Shoot, even "peace" has made it to the list. As I look back at those lists I notice one thing I am especially thankful for on a regular basis: my home.

For whatever reason I have always had an inclination toward home: being home, playing house, decorating, cleaning, organizing, etc. I love the sense of coming home to a place that is my own. As an introvert I thrive on the energy I receive from being in my own space on my own time, usually alone. However, I grew up in a family of 6 and quickly learned to appreciate the white noise that comes along with it. Knowing someone is in the other room, across the hall, or making a meal in the kitchen comforts me like the scent of dinner cooking and the whir of the washing machine spinning my gym clothes like ocean waves. To me, this is home.

On the other hand, I am not unaccustomed to that feeling of "cabin fever". While I have probably never experienced true cabin fever seeing that I grew up in a warm, coastal climate, my love of home has occasionally given me the sense of needing to get out. So, to the beach, to the pool, to the mall, or a museum I go, only to return to that place of comfort I hold so dear. The fix for cabin fever doesn't take much--just a few hours away and already I'm looking forward to home. I've heard that "absence makes the hear grow fonder" and I'm beginning to think its true.

I'm a glutton for home projects: organizing, sorting, cleaning, throwing away, re-organizaing, cooking, etc. You name it, I probably enjoy doing it (except for those never-ending dishes in the sink). The order I attempt to create keeps me sane and welcomes me each morning as I wake and evening as I walk through the door.

Although my initial intent in ordering my home in such a way is to create a home for myself, I also hope to create a home for every person who walks through the door behind me. I want people to feel the peace I feel as I linger on the couch in my pajamas catching up on reality T.V. while surfing the internet and snacking on popcorn. My hope is that they might join in with me, or better yet, do what they need to do: raid the pantry for snacks, grab a magazine to sift through, snag a blanket to curl up with on the couch, or sit with me and shoot the breeze.

I've heard many times that "home is where the heart is". To be honest I am not totally sure what that means or if there is any truth to the statement. What I do know is that my heart is happy when I am at home.

Now, despite my near obsession with playing house I must admit it's not exactly perfect. Often times you'll find a cluttered pile of unopened mail, un-emtied recycling bins, and a dishwasher that needs running. Stains spot the carpet thanks to a bunch of awkwardly growing jr. high girls. My tub needs scrubbing, and the patio sweeping. No matter how hard I try nothing is ever perfect for long. But these things make home home as much as that whiff of dinner and whir of the wash. I'm not perfect so it's only appropriate that my home wouldn't be either.

Home might be where your heart is, or maybe you left it somewhere and you're missing it dearly. Home is what you make it where you make it; it's who you are and what you're about. Home is where you find peace and joy.

if i had a twitter...

...this is what I'd tweet [photo edition]...

@llison

Wednesday: Didn't know "Little House on the Prairie" was a sponsor of Disneyland. Maybe there'll be a movie?

i do not like junior highers

I got foiled...

...and it kind of made me want to cry.

But I must admit I asked for it:

Good thing I love these girls.

P.S. I just found foil in my bed. Foil sheets=not cool.

i did not go on a blind date

A few things I have not nor would ever do:

I did not agree to go on a blind date knowing little to nothing about the person.

I did not not talk to him on the phone for less than three minutes only 20 minutes before meeting him for lunch.

I did not give this stranger a hug upon meeting him for the first time.

I did not admit within the first five minutes that I work at a church. Normal people don't talk about religion on a first date-that would be taboo and definitely not PC.

I definitely did not order a burger sans bread or cheese. I did not try to avoid explaining my food allergies. Upon explaining them my date did not try to comfort me by saying, "ya, it took me forever to figure out I was allergic to wool." I was not laughing hysterically in my mind. It was absolutely, most definitely not funny.

I was not relieved when he didn't offer to pray for lunch. The last boy I dated never prayed for dinner and it was never awkward. I definitely pray for every meal, snack and beverage regardless of whose company I am in. I'm pretty sure he does too. That's what all good christians do, right?

I did not share my major in college (religion). That would be awkward and potentially make for an awkward conversation with someone not prepared for what they were getting into.

I did not find out he practices a very, very different religion.

I did not admit that I secretly really want a bunny.

We absolutely did not end our date by going to look at bunnies at the pet store.

And I certainly would never point at and pet the bunnies oohing and awing about how cute and fluffy they are. I also did not share that I am really excited about the prospect of naming a bunny.

I did not not know his last name by the time I got home.

I did not make my roommate look him up on Facebook to find out.

Brought to you by Not me Monday.

i simply cannot commit

I must admit my favorite part about blogging has nothing to do with the keys on my fingertips, brainstorming ideas to write about, or even reading the comments people leave. While all those things are grand, and I enjoy each in their own right, for me the most thrilling part is naming the posts.

Despite how naturally the titles seem to come, the irony lies in the fact that I cannot even name my own blog. Sure I thought "Gluten Free-Dumb" was witty at the time, and I still think that's true, but the time has come to turn the page to a new chapter with a new title.

Help me please?

always read between the lines

Earlier I read one of those "letter from the editor" type of articles you find on the last page of a magazine. You know, the ones whose primary purpose is to get you to see that final ad on the inside back cover, er, I mean read to the very last page. These articles tend to be somewhat inspirational, bordering on influential. If not that, they at least make you stop to think for a minute, realizing the truth of the words spelled out by the editor from thousands of feet up in the air, then feel a slight twinge of guilt for not being able to live your life with such freedom/discipline/patience/some-other-positive-life-style-we'd-all-like-to-strive-for.

But today I noticed something a little different. To be honest I don't totally remember the point of this particular 100-word article. I remember the picture that took up 75% of the page, but not the point. However, one thing did stand out to me. The editor/author made a comment about being "overwhelmingly busy, like all of you." To which I thought, "that's not true." While that may be true for some, I can't exactly say the same for myself. If I compare my life to what I perceive her life to be like, I'm the tortoise and she's the hare. This wasn't always the case, even though her "busy" has and will always be worth a lot more than my "busy" (monetarily that is).

While those thoughts might make a person feel a little down about themselves-shoot, a year ago it would have made me feel down about myself-my next thought was, "I don't really want that life". I don't want the "overwhelmingly busy" life so many people love, or rather, find value in. I'm not happy when my life is characterized by anything considered overwhelming.

Now, I realize you might be thinking, "yes darling, just wait until you have kids" or "maybe you are becoming complacent" or "oh sweetie, you are so young and naive" but I am going to go out on a limb here and say that to at least some extent you determine the life you live. I realize there are many, many factors that play into where life leads. Even I have been overwhelmed by life in the last few years (haven't we all?). So while I may be young and naive, I know enough to say that people who are overwhelmed are not fun. Overwhelmed people are stressed, emotional, don't think straight, confuse easily, and are short with others. I don't want to be that person. I don't like that person, so why would I want to be them? I will not call the kettle black.

The impact of these thoughts was only made greater by the fact that as I read the article I was being held by an 18 month old sleeping baby boy. From here I could have laid this sweet boy on the couch to do the dishes, sweep the floor, and pick up the house for his seemingly overwhelmed mother, but instead I chose to sit with my cheek resting on his toe-head locks filtering the warmth permeating from the heavy weight that rested on my chest. Instead I chose to live in the moment, to rest in the moment. How often does a bouncing, running, jumping, climbing 18 month old boy want to cuddle and rest on your chest in the mid-morning hours of a house waiting to be wrecked?

From this article I learned two things:

1. Live in the moment

2. Read between the lines

The message I found was not the one intended. I'm glad I found it though. I'd much rather live in the moment and actually be present in my own life. You've heard the phrase "stop and smell the roses" and after a mid-morning slumber we literally did just that. So go, find some roses, by yourself or alone, and smell them. Really smell them. They really do smell good. "Rose" is not just a perfume, not just a scent created by man to make woman smell sublime. It comes from good ol' nature and it smell better coming from that coral rose in your neighbor's garden than it does from the dusty perfume bottle buried in your medicine cabinet.

Being present is more than raising your arm to have your name checked off a list. Presence is a mindset. It is realizing this world is bigger than you are. It is acknowledging that you are not in control. There is no need for complacency, just the ability to be present and willing to read between the lines.