On Ordinary

One of my favorite times with you was the Saturday morning you surprised me with coffee before work.  You told me you had heard of this really great place and even though I had no idea how significant a well-crafted latte would become to me, I was excited to be chauffeured to the office with a quick stop for caffeinated goodness on the way.

"What if I didn't work on Saturdays?" I mused as we walked back to the car.  I don't think you responded.

And so the morning drive continued without incident, you dropped me off right before the Farmer's Market vendors started unloading their trucks, preparing for the day's activities.

A few months later, I got Saturdays off and we both worked Monday through Friday like "normal" adults do.  This isn't super significant, except to say the surprise coffee trip only happened once.  And maybe it should have happened more, or maybe the novelty of it made it matter most to my aching yet hopeful heart.

And I am still trying to process these feelings and hurts and choices, but when is it enough?


I dreamed about you last night, so I figured this was the most appropriate form of response.

On Being Mean

I had a bad day yesterday.  Nothing was wrong, except I hated everything and took it out on someone I care very much about and traffic and to be honest, was legitimately lucky that I didn't get into a car accident. (Trust me, there was plenty of time for it to happen...)

I know that everyone has bad days now and then, for good reason or for none at all, but I am still sorry I haven't figured out how to manage all those things that inevitably start to snowball and end up exploding in an awkwardly guttural yell that leaves the back of my throat itchy and raw for days.

And I am still learning that people are good and true and reliable and all of the things that you don't realize you need until they're sitting in front of you being needed.

It's still hard for me to believe I'm deserving of all the "second chances" that inevitably make an appearance in this life, but maybe now I can slowly realize that I am.

On Not Knowing

One of the first things I will confess to you if we spend any amount of time together is that "mostly, I know that I do not know." Sure, I have my opinions and beliefs about why things work they way they do (or don't), but these are my opinions and if you want facts, maybe you should consult a book or Google or better yet go straight to the source (if/when possible).

I am also one of the more passive people you will meet and would go to great lengths to keep the peace versus actually addressing an issue I may have with someone. Chink in the armor? I suppose.

All that to say, the more people I meet, the more things I learn, the more I realize how little I know about my neighborhood, the city of Los Angeles, the Golden State, and I suppose life in general. It is a gentle, humbling reminder that I am a little piece of a great, big universe. "And that makes things right."

Even when it doesn't feel that way all the time.

On Night Hikes and Why Being Alone in the Dark with Your Dog Isn't Always a Bad Idea

Because someone new
Because I am afraid
Because I am not in control
Because I am tired
Because the dark
Because I am nervous for the unknown
Because sometimes the things I desire are very far away
Because I am still hopeful
Because I am not easily charmed
Because I fall too quickly
Because she is one of my best friends
Because I still want to adopt
Because "I see that I'm a little piece in a big, big universe. And that makes things right."

Also, cohesion.

duck duck goose

So I know I don't really bring up personal things here, for fear that you may get the wrong idea. Things are good. Usually, things are always good. And if they're not good right now, they will be soon enough. That being said, if I am being totally honest with myself (and apparently right now I am), I must confess to you, dear readers, how difficult this 1st year of marriage has been for me. Upon review, 368 days later, for no apparent legitimate reason, I find myself questioning any newlywed couple that told me this decision would be "so easy." What did/do they know that I didn't/don't? Maybe I wasn't really "ready," maybe I had the wrong expectations, maybe I'm just not "marriage material." Maybe all of the above? The logistics of a wedding were overwhelming, but the reality of marriage was something I thought would come naturally to me, the oldest daughter of two still-married (happily?) Christian parents from a small, sleepy town on the Gulf coast. This is what G.R.I.T.S. are supposed to do, right? Not so easy, and in case you were wondering, it hasn't come as naturally as I assumed it would that balmy afternoon my sweet beau pulled out a box and asked me if I wanted to keep up this good thing we had going between us indefinitely. What I didn't realize, nor could I have anticipated the post-proposal pre-wedding haze, was the seriousness of my simple response. Yes to you and me. Yes to only us. Yes to disease. Yes to poverty. Yes to shortcomings. Yes to our humanness. There are days when I don't want to say yes to only us or sickness or budgets or imperfections. I replay August and the beach and the dogs in the sand...what if my yes had been a no, thank you? I would only be saying Yes to something else. To my dear friends and family who are married or planning to get married or unmarried, I salute you, applaud your courage and admire your pluck for the conscious/unconscious choice to enter into the daily Yes with another willing party who may or may not be just as terrified as I was.

Scarred Knees

I am told that I have not been content with the things I have, or the places I am in--would this be life in general? As of late, I have caught myself saying, "once I have _______, ___________, & _______, THEN I will be happy and never want anything every again." Guess what happens when I get ____________, _______________, & ____________? Yeah, I think you get it. There are new things to fill in the old blanks every single time. I am ashamed to confess there is such a disconnect between the life I say I want to lead and the one that I actually do. Maybe I am not so different than those I love to hate. Those who have so much material wealth they don't seem to know what to do with themselves. And they DO appear to be very happy. Maybe they are? And maybe I am missing a lot of things. Like the fact that Jesus is here in a neighbor stopping to greet me, or my mom leaving a 2 minute voicemail, or Brian reminding me that I am more than my paycheck or having my shit figured out. So the Prius would be a perk and a new laptop would be lovely, but a gentle and kind spirit? I'm trying to fill in the blanks.

cynic.

I guess mostly I am tired of trying to be relevant and cool and unusual in a world where I don't necessarily agree with every thing that happens most of the time. I don't want to have a kick-ass wedding where all the guests take home incredible souvenirs and we go on this amazing vacation and move to a beautiful city and I walk my dog down (mostly) safe streets to meet my new friends at some hidden, delicious coffee shop that turns into a bar after 8pm.
I want to live near my nieces or my mom and dad or my cool soon to be in-laws. I don't want Brian and I to have the same smile. Or clothes. I want to feel like I'm the most fashionable one in our trio. I can try.
I don't want to go to the opera or a movie or a play or a concert and pretend that I enjoyed it if I didn't. I don't really want to sit around and talk about your compost pile or sustainably sourced flooring or how your neighbor moved his entire apartment with only "bike power" either.

I still really like Starbucks chai tea lattes. I'm trying to not be embarrassed about this.

I am a normal, simple, ice water and beach-mornings kind of person. I have no intention of occupying wall street or anything else for that matter. I can't guarantee we'll have much to talk about or that you'll even find me a walk's-worh of interesting. But let's meet up and take one anyway. Unless you'd rather jog? Which, in that case, never mind.

This year

I want to be a good steward.

The Quiet

Confession.
For most of my life I have been shy. There may have been approx. 3 weeks of my entire existence where I pretended to be an extrovert (probably around the time I started college), but deep down I knew my heart couldn't take it for long. This is truth: I am shy; I am quiet; I am oftentimes (I hope unbeknownst to others) terribly worrisome and may be guilty of thinking too much. Okay, okay, I think too much. It still makes me a little sad when I finish a good book, because I invest in the characters and feel like I'm losing a group of really cool friends. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing; but you see what I mean.
So I find it interesting that I gravitate towards those who are not as quiet as I have been. Many of my friends are and can be (for lack of a more graceful description) loud. They are boisterous and in charge and have fun and reap the benefits of being known. And for that I am grateful. Maybe if I had too many friend who were just like me we'd all sit around and say nice things about each other. Which sounds cute, but could become terribly boring after about 20 minutes.

I guess what I am saying is this: I have grown up in the boisterous and in charge and have fun, but instead have become the gentle, deferential, and speak softly. It is not so much an ultimatum as an internal observation, and as for this time of year, I think it's a pretty good place for me to be.

all right?

I may have forgotten what it feels like to simply exist without an agenda beyond waking up, exercising, working, playing with Goose, and falling asleep.
It is a humbling process.

on investing your love.

A friend of mine recently lamented? exclaimed? that I had "everything" I wanted. And even though I couldn't tell if it was unmet longing or cryptic relief on their part, I couldn't help but think that everything I have now could very well be all I ever need. Forever? Perhaps. It seems idealistic of me to confess that at 24 years old, I can't possibly imagine anything else that I need to be content. It is only a feeling you know if you have it, but also a feeling you know if you don't.
At church today, we prayed a lot of peace prayers, lighting little tealights around the unity candle, and I couldn't deny the overwhelming sense of peace that passes my ideas of self and others and the world. I also couldn't deny the realization that I have stopped comparing myself to others, or, at least, have not dwelt on it as strongly as before.
I think it's a freedom that's just as real as what most Americans are honoring today.

On big time commitments.

There's no ring, but this is a pretty damn good start.

I never promised you a rose garden...or anything else for that matter.

Pardon my vulgarity, but being unemployed sucks. I have become painfully aware of how much of my self-worth comes from being able to live independently. That being said, I have already finished one book, spinned my legs off (they are still here), and slept 8 hours almost every night. It's not the best, but it's definitely not the worst. And even though Starbucks won't hire me, I'm hopeful that just means someone else will. Right?

on not having many plans

so you can have a day mostly focused on this.

happy easter

I woke up too early for a good enough reason, with good enough people, and found myself sitting on a picnic table at the beach. I have heard the minister's words so many times, that mostly I forget how good they are. Better than good and better than enough, but I guess not good enough to remember.
For the most part, I find myself wandering and full of questions. And not necessarily in a bad way, just in a "well, what about this?" sort of way. So, there's that.
But it was so nice to sit outside with friends, and eat food that I helped prepare, and, for a few hours, not have any questions to think about.
Indeed, He has risen.

on never being able to stay New for long

I read something somewhere that said you should be kind to people, because every one is fighting their own battle. But I forget to be kind to people, because I forget that I'm not the only one that has bad days, and other people get cut off in the bike lane, get yelled at by the boss, and things like that.
But some times I like to think of a place all to myself, where I could invite people to come over and have a meal, or read books, or play games, or maybe just sit for a while. I don't think I would like to have a lot of decorations, but I would take donations at my guests' insistence.
In other news, I noticed a rollee-pollee on the sidewalk, and also saw a dog that looked like he had a chocolate milk mustache. It was pretty cute. It didn't feel like a Monday to me, which is a nice feeling.
I am already starting to feel nervous about what happens in June. Maybe because I don't really have any idea, but maybe mostly because I have little control over big changes. I should learn to be okay with that.
There is a verse in I Thessalonians that says something about living a quiet life and minding your own business and working with your hands. I would like to try to do that. I also would like to be more kind to people, especially people I am close to, and especially people that have let me down. I know I say this alot, and it's not much, but it is a start.

a day

I couldn't let this day go by without making some sort of proclamation. TODAY WAS A LOVELY DAY! The light has been lasting longer since March 13th, but I haven't been enjoying it the way I did today.
I rode to work without mittens or a jacket this morning. (It has been the first time in a long time since I've done that.) It was opening day for baseball, too. And I'm very happy that it's here. Because of all the sports I could get into, baseball just happens to be the one I like. So forgive me if I don't know the names of all the players, because I do know who won tonight. And I do know that people wondered why Posey threw to third.
In summary, I got to be outside a lot, even though I had to work.
It was a very good day.

Sky scrapings

To be honest, I kind of feel like I'm walking around in a daze right now.
It was hard to drive to work this morning, above ground, waiting for traffic, not able to rely on my feet to get around on time.
It was hard to sit inside for hours, answering the phone, scribbling in charts, straightening magazines, watching the rain.
It is hard to realize that family sleeps in a bed across from you, but that they are also thousands of miles and lifestyles away from you too.
I can't say that these are earth shattering thoughts, but I am thinking them nonetheless. And I'm guessing it's safe to say that if you were the first skyscraper once upon a time, well, chances are pretty good that you're always gonna be the first.

"For God is not a God of confusion but of peace."
1 Corinthians 14:33

faithfull in little & much.

A couple of days ago (and I am sorry, I know it’s no longer Valentine’s Day), I looked at my boyfriend and said, “Is there anyone else in love like us?” Which may or may not have been a spin off of a line from a certain Maya Rudolph in a particular movie that I am terribly fond of. Regardless.
What I think I meant to say was, “Will we still be in love like this when I can’t keep up with you on my bike, or if I am driven to madness by your sports fanaticisms?” But it was shorter. And sweeter. And perhaps encapsulates a lot more of what I was thinking at the time.
A friend of mine asked what sort of goals I had set up for my life, and one of them involved a dog, and another (more serious) one involved being in love with a partner for the better part of my life. I know I am a romantic, so this might have something to do with my response, but I also know that I can be dangerously practical, and that I have seen that sort of practicality fleshed out in many grown up relationships.
So, I know what to avoid, but there is a part of me that fears the only way to avoid mistakes is to repeat them. Which doesn’t really make that much sense if you think about it, so don’t. I’m afraid my partner and I will mirror my parents. Or, in other words, that we will be humans.
I am eager for a time when people get married for the right reasons: not because they’re young and not because they’re old, and not because they’re pregnant, or because they want to have sex or are simply tired of waiting.
And I don’t know what the right reason for you is, but I think for me it’s something along the lines of living better together than on my own, and loving fiercely, and finally waking up next to a very, very dear friend.