Wild and Precious Life

Jesus would have hung out at gay bars.

2012-01-29T19:34:00.002-05:00

I came across this picture the other day, and it touched me so deeply that I wanted to cry. In case you haven't seen it yet, it was taken at a gay-pride parade in Chicago. A Christian group decided to take a bold stand and hold a demonstration at the parade. Not a protest. But an apology. An apology for the way the church has treated the gay community. To say "I'm sorry" for the appalling treatment that many Christians have given homosexuals for countless years. The man in the underwear is named Tristan, and the demonstrator embracing him is Nathan. Nathan wrote this in his blog shortly after the event:

"My favorite though was a gentleman who was dancing on a float. He was dressed solely in white underwear and had a pack of abs like no one else. As he was dancing on the float, he noticed us and jokingly yelled, “What are you sorry for? It’s pride!” I pointed to our signs and watched him read them.

Then it clicked.

Then he got it.

He stopped dancing. He looked at all of us standing there. A look of utter seriousness came across his face. And as the float passed us he jumped off of it and ran towards us. He hugged me and whispered, “thank you.”"

Is that not beautiful? Does that not exactly portray the way Jesus himself reached out to people during His time on this earth? You see, "religious people" never liked Jesus. They called Him a drunkard and a glutton. They hated that He spent His precious time with prostitutes, tax collectors, and "sinners" of all kinds. It really ground their gears that Jesus thought highly of women, and treated them with honor and respect. They didn't like that He got His hands dirty with society's "untouchables," literally reaching out and touching the flesh of rotting lepers. If Jesus was walking the earth today, you'd better believe He'd be hanging out in gay bars. And in brothels. And crack houses. And hospitals. And prisons. And AIDS hospices. And under bridges with the homeless. Jesus would be loving on people everywhere the "religious people" are not! You see, Jesus was all about LOVE. Forgiveness. Compassion. In scripture, the only people you hear Jesus laying judgement down on are the high-and-mighty, legalistic, stick-up-their-butts religious people!

Here's the deal. As a Jesus-follower, I believe that each and every one of us is in exactly the same sin boat. We're all jacked-up, we all have issues, and we all need love, grace, and forgiveness. I have no right whatsoever to judge anyone else. I've got my own issues to worry about! And I am getting sick and tired of legalistic "Christians" who seem to have completely forgotten what Jesus was all about. Isaiah 64:6 states that "all our righteous acts are like filthy rags." It's not possible to be good enough, and a bunch of stupid rules are not getting anyone into heaven. The only thing that can redeem any of us is the grace and forgiveness of Jesus Christ. None of us needs Jesus any less than anyone else.

Matthew 7:4

How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?

So Christians, can we just drop the judgement already? I mean, how dare we. Christians should be the most loving, selfless, forgiving, compassionate people on the planet. And we're not. I believe that the #1 cause of atheism in the world is Christians. And that breaks my heart. So get out there and start loving people, helping people, serving people - in other words, BEING THE CHURCH. We were never meant to lock ourselves up in spotless rooms shining with stained glass, just "reading the manual" for the rest of our lives in our ankle-length denim skirts while casting haughty, superior eyes on those outside the front door. As my pastor likes to say, "the church was never meant to be a museum for saints, but a hospital for sinners."

And non-Christians, atheists, agnostics, the GLBT community, and every other group of people who the Church has hurt over the centuries, I'm sorry. It is wrong, unfair, and un-Christlike to be filled with hatred and condemnation. There was a reason "religious people" and Jesus never got along - He wasn't one of them. And neither am I.

Dear Single People...

2012-01-29T14:32:00.000-05:00

Dear Single People,

Oh, you thought you were off the hook didn't you! After that whole long, drawn-out post to married people, you thought I wasn't going to harp on you. Sorry, not today.

So how's singleness treating you? Are you happy? Content? Are you having fun? Do you know who you are yet? No?

Then you're probably doing it wrong.

First of all, before we really dive in, on behalf of all Married People everywhere, I apologize for how our kind has treated you. I apologize for the set-ups, the blind dates, and the constant asking if you've met "anyone special" recently. It's not fair, it's not right, and it's just downright irritating!

For everyone reading this, single and married alike, hear me now:

SINGLENESS IS NOT A SICKNESS!

If you are single, you do not need to be cured. Singleness is not some aggressive cancer that spreads it's dirty tendrils through your system until it needs to be sliced from your broken, sickly body!

So Married People, stop trying to "fix" Single People. They do not need your sympathy, your clucking, or your balding second cousin. For the love of all that is holy, JUST LET THEM BE!

Ok Single People, back to you. Are you enjoying your time as a Single Person? Because you should be. For most of us, singleness is simply a season of life, and it's meant to be one full of freedom, fun, and self-discovery. So how are you using your time in this season of your life? Your life won't begin when you meet "Prince or Princess Charming." Your life has already started. It's happening right now. So what are you doing with it?

You see, this is the time to really and truly figure out who you are. Do you know who you are yet? Really? Because here's a burning ray of fiery truth comin' right to your brain: You will never know who the right person is for you until you know who you are.

Let that sink in for a moment.

If you choose to marry someone before you really know who you are, you will probably choose to marry the wrong person. And that's a very scary thought.

(Disclaimer: Married People, don't you dare start thinking "Oh! I didn't know who I was when I got married; I must've married the wrong person! I guess I can justify getting a divorce!" WRONG. Nope. You did not get that from me. I believe that marriage should be "until death do us part," and that when you make those vows, you should really give it the ol' college try to make it work. Yeah, maybe you did make some stupid choices in the past, but you can still make your marriage beautiful [see Dear Married People for more on that.] This does not, however, justify staying in an abusive or unfaithful marriage situation.)

So get busy figuring out who you are. And have as much fun as possible in the process! What are your gifts, talents, and passions? What are you good at? What makes you happy? What breaks your heart? You need to know these things about yourself. And don't even try to get into a relationship of any kind until you've figured them out.

Also, if you are dating, are your standards high enough? And if they are high enough, great, but are they unrealistic? Let me tell you the difference, because what I am not saying here is to settle for anything less than the best! (In high school, I made a list of all the things I was looking for in a future spouse that was at least 50 items long, and my husband met every one of them!) Having high standards means only choosing to date someone who is kind, intelligent, motivated, hard-working, considerate, full of integrity, shares your values and beliefs, and is just chock-full of character. Having unrealistic standards means only choosing to date someone who is Italian, plays the harp, leaves a bed of roses in your apartment while you're at work, and will eventually present you with a 3-carat diamond ring on top of the Eiffel Tower. Those things are all awesome, but cut a brother some slack! Even the most fantastic guys can't pull all of that off! Know what things are true must haves, and what things are true deal breakers in a relationship. In fact, I encourage my students to make an ink-and-paper list of their 10 Must-Haves and 10 Can't-Stands. It's great. It's like a shopping list for dating. To get you started, your Must-Haves should probably include honesty, trustworthiness, and a person who is your best friend. And your Can't-Stands should include drug users, people who've been to prison, and cheaters. (These may sound obvious to you, but you would not believe the justifications I've heard from people over the years!) And on that note, it is also awesome to take some time off to just not worry about dating at all! Until you know yourself, there really no point in it anyway. (Plus, less drama in your life is ALWAYS a good thing.)

So Single People, I would encourage you to utilize this rockin' time of your life to its highest potential. Build amazing friendships. Travel the world. Try new things. Get to know yourself. Accomplish something. Revel in the pure girlyness or pure manlyness that is unique to living as a single person. HAVE FUN.

Because here's the thing - a healthy relationship is two whole, complete, content people choosing to share life as a team. It is not two wobbly, sniveling halves of a person looking for completion. Be content. Learn to be completely at peace with just yourself. Because until you reach that state of nirvana, you will never be ready to share your life with another person.

Thanks for listening Single People. You guys ROCK. Now start acting like it!

~Me

And just for fun, a weekend phone dump:

Dear Married People...

2012-01-24T00:07:00.000-05:00

Dear Married People,

How's it going? How's married life treating you, for real?

Are you having lots of fun? Are you growing closer to and more fond of your spouse every day? Are you learning new things all the time? Are you and your spouse best friends who really just love hanging out together?

No?

Well then, you're probably doing it wrong.

Now don't get all offended on me right off the bat. Hear me out. Marriage is supposed to be a good thing, a gift, and if it doesn't feel that way to you, then, frankly, you really are probably doing it wrong. But don't worry, because I believe that no matter what state your marriage is in right-this-second, you can start doing it right, right now.

If you're a Christian, marriage is supposed to be this beautiful, glorious picture of Christ and the church: Oneness. Unconditional love. Delight. Joy. Fellowship. Communication. Grace.

Sounds pretty great, right? (Yes. It does. 'Cause it's awesome.) But lately, it has seemed to me that Christians in particular are the worst offenders in the "brace-yo'selves" game. And I'm sick of it! Over and over again, I keep hearing about Christian Married People telling single people, engaged people, and newlyweds some variation of this:

"Brace yourselves! You're in the for hardest time of your life! Once the honeymoon is over, woooeeee, get ready for some pain! Cause it is hard!"

Uh, seriously Married People? Is this how you're inspiring the next generation to strive for a beautiful, life-long marriage relationship? Cause if so, YOU SUCK.

If God intended for marriage to be a picture of Christ and the church, (and He did, just to set that straight), why on earth would He want marriages to be painful, exhausting, life-sucking, and miserable? I think the answer is, He didn't. Marriage is supposed to be good. Why would you choose to spend your whole entire life with someone if you didn't think you could build a peaceful, enjoyable partnership together?

Now notice I used the word build just then. As in, a great marriage takes work. But not in a negative way! Please understand that! Just because something takes effort to achieve doesn't mean that the effort is torture! To have a healthy body, you have to work for it. To make good grades, you have to work for it. And to climb a mountain, you have to work for it, but every step you take brings you to higher plains of beauty, glory, and perspective. Do you see what I'm saying?

Marriage is supposed to be you and your best friend sharing a fabulous adventure together for the rest of your lives. So stop being so freaking discouraging to the newbies!

On that same train of thought, a great marriage should include a fun, exciting, mutually-satisfying sex life.

(Oh yeah. I went there. And BTW, "mutually-satisfying" means that you both are having a fabulous time.)

Once again, this is a part of marriage that should be chock-full of JOY, and yet I hear Married People underselling it to the newbies all the time. No joke, I have heard of Christian premarital counselors, within the last few years mind you, telling young women that sex is just her duty as a wife, and that she probably won't enjoy it.

WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?

Back up the train soldier! If you BOTH are not having an absolutely spectacular time in bed, then you're probably doing it wrong. And more than likely, you're not communicating about it very effectively. And the Bible agrees. Have you ever read Song of Solomon? (And don't even try to get all scholarly on my and say it's just an allegory for Christ and the church. Nah uh. It's about SEX.)

Song of Solomon 7:6-9

How beautiful you are and how pleasing, my love, with your delights!

Your stature is like that of the palm, and your breasts like clusters of fruit.

I said, “I will climb the palm tree; I will take hold of its fruit.”

May your breasts be like clusters of grapes on the vine, the fragrance of your breath like apples, and your mouth like the best wine.

You want to tell me that's Jesus we're talking about here? I didn't think so. This is a Godly marriage! And feel free to go read that whole book of the Bible - don't worry, I'll wait - and then try to tell me that they are not both having a grand ol' time! And not only are they having fun delighting in one another, they're talking about it too! Sex is something you need to talk about with your spouse, and good, honest, open communication does a world of good in solving problems in this area. So I suggest you dim the lights, lock the door, and start having your own grand ol' time, together!

So here's the deal Married People - marriage is supposed to be fun.

If you're not best friends with your spouse, start working on that today. Talk. Do stuff together. Just hang out. Communicate about everything. Laugh. Make silly inside jokes. Cuddle. Play. Just have some fun together!

If you're not falling more madly in love with your spouse every single day, start today. Focus on the positive. Be thankful for all of the beautiful things that made you fall in love with them in the first place. (Write those things down.) And just open your heart. Be honest. Transparent. Kind. Show grace. Don't hold a grudge. Love them actively. (Because love is a choice, a verb. Not a feeling.)

And for goodness sake, stop discouraging those who aren't even out of the gate yet! Any marriage can be beautiful. Glorious. Joyful. Fun. Yours can be these things! And so can their's. So don't bring them down.

I hope you weren't offended by my letter Married People. Thanks for listening.

Sincerely,

Me.

Counting the gifts

2012-01-17T22:17:00.000-05:00

Right this minute, I'm tearing through this book:

And it's absolutely slaying me. I'm highlighting what seems like every other passage. It's blowing my mind. It's all about savoring and embracing and drinking deep of life. And being deeply grateful in every moment. Even the moments filled with pain. It's beautiful and profound and breathtaking.

And I've started my list of 1000 gifts.

In my little notebook made of elephant-poo paper.

I started about 5 minutes ago, and I already have 14 items.

Won't you consider counting 1000 of your gifts from God?

I think this is going to be a rockin' journey.

Fear not.

2012-01-15T21:02:00.000-05:00

I do not want to write this post.

Just thought I'd start off with some transparency there. I'm scared that by writing all of this down for all the world to see, that you will judge me. That you will think less of me. That you will realize that I have never had it all together. That you will think I'm crazy. Weak. But as my pastor always says, "This ain't the Christian prom!" And I feel like I need to write it. I feel like I need to share about a journey that I went on through a very dark place, because I couldn't even begin the process of coming out of that dark place until I found out, rather startlingly, that I was not alone.

That was the game-changer for me. And maybe it will be the game-changer for someone reading this. I need to write (maybe to you) about my journey through chronic anxiety, panic-attacks, and depression. If that's a place you're in right now, (or have ever been), you are not alone my friend.

First of all, I've always had a natural bent toward anxiety - my personality is an extremely empathetic one, (to this day, I have a very hard time separating myself from other people's problems, feelings, and pain), I tend to be a hard-core worst-case-scenario thinker, I'm very creative and artistic (this, I later learned, is a risk factor for these kinds of problems. Who knew?), and I'm a very cerebral person, spending alot of time in my own head. This combination of factors and personality traits is, apparently, kind of a perfect-storm for anxiety related problems.

But it wasn't until high school that these issues really started rearing their ugly heads in my life. Maybe it was the hormones, the teenage drama, I really don't know. Somewhere around my 15th-16th years, I started having real, honest-to-God panic attacks. Now if you've ever had a panic attack, you know how terrifying they can be. If you haven't experienced this particular rush, understand that people have actually been hospitalized for a heart attack, and it turned out to be "just" a panic attack causing them all the same symptoms. Which is pretty freakin' intense. For me, they were usually initiated by a spiraling pattern of negative, horrifying thoughts that I simply could not control. (Something I later learned in counseling is caused by my relatively minor case of obsessive-compulsive disorder.) Often, these thoughts involved worst-case-scenarios regarding absolutely every daily situation I encountered. If I was driving down the road and a tanker truck was about to pass by, my mind would instantly visualize it smashing into my car and exploding into a ball of flames. If my baby brother was crawling near me on the kitchen floor while I was unloading the dishwasher, my mind would conjure up an image of me dropping a steak knife directly onto the soft-spot on his head. On and on, over and over, day after day, I was plagued by terrifying thoughts that, like a cancerous tumor, wrapped their tendrils securely around my brain. Inoperable. Impossible to eradicate. I couldn't breathe. There was a literal, tangible weight on my chest. Soon, I was having 4-5 panic attacks every single day, I couldn't sleep, and I was just paralyzed by fear.

And I felt completely alone.

I felt like I was losing my mind, truly going crazy, and that no one else had ever felt the way I was feeling. Consumed, every moment of every day, with panic, fear, and the sickening images that were swirling around in my mind. I didn't tell anyone about it, because I thought they'd have me committed. I was terrified of snapping, of finally going off the deep-end. More than anything, I feared hurting someone else. So, to comfort myself, I decided that if it ever got to that point, I would just drown myself in the bathtub before anyone got hurt. I never wanted to die, I just wanted to protect those around me from what I truly believed was my insanity.

These were my darkest days.

I remember being up in the middle of the night over and over again, pleading with God, weeping to Him, to save me from my torment. To give me peace. To take away my fears. And getting no response. Just silence. Just moonlight spilling all over the floor. (Which was where I often tried to sleep. I don't know why.)

But then two big things happened that changed everything. (And I don't remember the order that they happened in, but I do know they both happened within a relatively short period of time.) One, I broke down and told someone about what was going on. Inexplicably, an unlikely friend and her mom at a sleepover. Crazily enough, they had some personal experience with these issues, and they were the very first people to tell me that I was not alone. Two, I saw an infomercial (I know, right?) during one of my many sleepless nights advertising a program specifically designed for people suffering from chronic anxiety and depression. That infomercial described people just like me, normal people, sane people, who felt the same things that I was feeling, and came out on the other side OK. That night, I wept uncontrollably, crying out to God, so thankful, so lighter-than-air, just knowing that I wasn't the only person in the universe feeling the way I felt. For the first time, a ray of light started cutting through the darkness. I felt hope.

So, needless to say, that friend's mom told my parents about my "bathtub plan," which really freaked them out, and they sent me to counseling. Which was exactly what I needed. In counseling, I learned that I was not crazy. That countless other humans dealt with the same issues that I was dealing with. That being smart and creative put me at high-risk for these kinds of problems (go figure.) And that I had obsessive-compulsive disorder, but it didn't have to ruin my life. Plus, we bought that program from the infomercial. I learned techniques for dealing with my panic attacks, and for not freaking out about thoughts I couldn't control. It took alot of time, trust, and patience, but as I sit here typing to you today, about 10 years later, I can tell you that I have been almost completely free from panic attacks for many, many years. I still struggle with anxiety, and I probably always will to some degree, but God has healed me and redeemed me in ways I never could have imagined. Now, I am truly free. I also realize now, looking back, that God protected me from so many things during that difficult season of my life. For example, I never turned to self-harm of any kind. I never tried to self-medicate with alcohol or drugs. Not because I'm something special, but because God was carrying me, looking out for me, and sheltering me from all kinds of dangerous paths I could've taken had I not been trusting in Him. I also never required prescription medication to help overcome my anxiety.(Though I feel I must clarify that I have no problem whatsoever with such treatments, and acknowledge that they are necessary in many situations. In my own personal case, I just didn't happen to utilize them in my recovery.)

God reached out to me in some unlikely ways to show me that I wasn't alone, and to get me on the road to trust, peace, and healing. Maybe it's the internet that will let you know that you are not alone today. That will let you know that God loves you more than you can ever imagine, and that He will not leave you high-and-dry no matter how dire the situation may seem.

You are going to be alright.

You are not alone.

Fear not.

Deuteronomy 31:6

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.

Intentions.

2012-01-03T21:46:00.000-05:00

New Year's Resolutions kinda suck.

In my own personal experience, they tend to start off sweeping and grandiose, only to soon fade into the background, (as a constant, dim sense of nagging guilt), until eventually they are banished from my mind completely.

In light of that, this year I've decided to choose "words of intention" for the entirety of 2012. Not so much specific goals, but overall concepts that I hope to integrate into every facet of my life in a deeper and more revolutionary way over the course of every day, every week, and every month, throughout the whole year.

Narrowing my ideas was tough, but I managed to whittle it down to 4 core concepts that I want to fully embrace this year:

Brave - to be courageous in all circumstances, to be willing to get out of my comfort-zone.

Create - to constantly be pouring creative energy into multiple positive and beautiful outlets.

Learn - to continually challenge and expand my mind by actively and critically thinking, absorbing, and devouring information.

Trust - to lean on God completely and not on my own understanding.

I've written each of my intention words on a chalkboard in the hallway outside our bedroom, so I'll be reminded of them constantly. I'll keep you up-to-date on my adventures in each area of this challenge!

All that said, we just returned from 11 days of sparkly-Christmas-magic in warm, lovely, green, sea-kissed Florida, and it's taking me a bit of time to transition back into the 28-degree-real-world.

But what an incredible trip. Highlight reel:

We won the gingerbread-house contest (clearly)

A candle-lit Christmas Eve

PJ'd with the bros on Christmas morning

And lots and lots of this glory

Kindle + ocean = bliss

My tribe

My favorite guys in the world

Mom and I gettin' all fancy at Lady Anne's Tea Room

Plenty of whimsical sand-art

And QT with this fine-lookin' man

Oh how I love him

Sparklers + New Year's Eve + a cookout on the beach = best fun ever

So yeah, it was thebomb.com. I miss them already. Like crazy. But now I'm diving into 2012 with both feet. Cheers to a year filled with adventures, new experiences, new knowledge, and more love than we know what to do with! Happy New Year!

Happy New Year!

2012-01-01T20:30:00.001-05:00

(Long, drawn-out Holiday post to come)

Tis' the season to think before you drink.

2011-12-07T20:54:00.000-05:00

I've been avoiding Starbucks for some time now. I used to be a bit of an addict, spending way too much money sucking down venti non-fat iced caramel macchiatos at the slightest provocation. But I'm married to an (extreme) coffee-snob, and pretty soon the lure of truly good coffee got ahold of me. (Seriously, a very recent roasting combined with fresh grinding and proper brewing techniques makes all the difference in the world. I had no idea. But it's amazing.) Starbucks just has no idea how to make a decent cup of actual coffee without drowning it in sugar, cream, and syrup. But even then, I still enjoyed the occasional frou-frou drink from the 'bucks until an unfortunate incident with an uber-dodgy creeper pushed me away forever. (Long story.) But now, after reading some alarming information, I've decided to start whole-heartedly boycotting Starbucks. And perhaps you should consider it too.

You see, Starbucks does not own a fleet of coffee-farming Oompa-Loompas that live in their factories and supply their products. Actual human coffee growers in places like Uganda do the dirty work. Salome Kafuluzi, who lives on a coffee farm with her thirteen children, says "We're broke. We're not happy. We're failing at everything. We can't buy essentials. We can't have meat, fish, [or] rice[...] We can't send the children to school." Because of a dangerous food-distribution bottleneck and a lack of subsistence options for farmers, farmers like these are literally earning 14 cents per kilo of raw coffee beans that they produce. At another step in the assembly line, one of the larger coffee exporters in Uganda is happy to be making a profit of $10 a ton, or 1 cent per kilo on what he exports. Farmers who are actually trying to increase their share of the final price of coffee are finding themselves facing the mighty opposition of the food industry. Ethiopian farmers recently applied to turn their signature coffee bean names - Sidamo, Harar, and Yirgacheffe - into trademarks, a move that might increase their share of the revenue by 25%. They were opposed almost instantly by Starbucks. Acting out of desperation and with a very limited number of ways to keep some food on their tables, these farmers are forced to keep churning out coffee beans to huge companies for an almost nonexistent profit. And too me, that's just not ok. I will not let my desire for a Christmassy peppermint mocha drive me to drop another enabling $5 into Starbucks' lap. They won't receive another dime from me.

So what can you do? Start by chuckin' the 'bucks. Seek out fair-trade coffee products, which means that the people who are growing those beans are being compensated fairly for their labor and products. Visit your local independent coffee shop and ask them questions about where and how their beans are grown. Do they support ethical coffee? If you live in the Columbia area, Peace Love and Rocky Roast is a great option (and right up the road from Starbucks!), and they make a darn tasty cuppa joe. When you buy coffee to brew at home, choose fair-trade. Locally, Indah Coffee Co. sells some of the tastiest beans around at the All Local Farmer's Market. There are delicious, ethical options that you can feel good about investing in all around you if you look for them.

I'm not trying to get all hippy-crunchy-granola on you, but I do think that we need to think before we vote with our dollars on the purchases we make everyday. What are your thoughts?

(All statistics from "Stuffed and Starved: The Hidden Battle for the World Food System" by Raj Patel)

Whoa - so is this some kind of seasonal thing??

2011-11-06T21:44:00.000-05:00

So tonight I planned to re-vamp and re-post a blog a wrote a while back about "having it all together," because lately I've really been struggling with just that. So I went into my archives to find that old blog, and, low and behold, I wrote it last year on November 7th.

Whoa.

So is this just a seasonal perfectionist syndrome? Is anyone else feeling it too? Feel free to jump on my bandwagon. There's lots of room.

Cause I have a confession to make.

I want to seem like I have it all together. All the time.

A home that sparkles with Martha Stewart-esque perfection and creativity. Delicious, healthy, organic meals direct from my kitchen every day. A high-intensity workout routine that never slips from my daily schedule. Hair, skin, and clothes that always look put-together, fun, and chic. Spectacular performance at my full-time ministry job, single-handedly changing the world one student at a time. Constant communion with my Savior. Insanely brilliant writing, dance, and art projects just pouring from my mind like an open faucet of genius. Words and attitudes that are always full of mercy and grace. And of course, the ideal marriage: minimal conflict + maximum oneness, intimacy, and fun.

But seriously, who wants to be friends with that girl?

It's funny how we so treasure transparency in others, but we rarely like to be vulnerable enough to show it in ourselves.

So here's some transparency for ya: when I get home from a long day at my job, I do not want to do housework. So some chores get put off. Behind our tightly shut laundry room doors, there's probably 3 entire loads of clean laundry stacked like the leaning tower of Pisa, completely ignored and untouched for who knows how long. I forget to do important things like send thank-you notes, check the tire pressure on my car, and fill the tank up with gas. And just the other day, I sobbed and babbled to my husband late into the night because I was feeling like I had no one else in my life who really cared or wanted to listen to me.

I've always thought I was a very transparent person, but maybe I'm wrong about that. Because of the clenched feeling in the pit of my stomach that writing that paragraph gave me. You see, I don't really want anyone to know those things about me. Because on some level I want to maintain the shiny facade that I really can keep all the plates spinning without having a nervous breakdown.

But I'm starting to learn that I just need to RELAX.

Sometimes, a few of the balls I'm juggling are going to get dropped. I'm not going to be the best at everything. In the great scheme of things, that's really not a big deal. The world will not stop spinning because I am not personally turning the handle to make it go 'round. Because it's just not about me. God is oh-so-much bigger than I am, and He already has everything taken care of.

Zechariah 4:6
So he said to me, “This is the word of the LORD [...] ‘Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,’ says the LORD Almighty.

So no, I don't have it all together.

And that is starting to be A-OK with me.

Want to come over for a cup of coffee in my messy kitchen? I won't even do the dishes before you show up.

November? Seriously??

2011-10-31T21:32:00.000-04:00

Not gonna lie, I totally love Halloween.

Not creepy-crawly-gory-scary-screamy Halloween, but warm-cozy-great-friends-fun-costumes-fabulous-parties-pumpkins-and-goodies Halloween.

Last night, after a visit from our one (yes, one) trick-or-treater, Braden and I curled up by the light of our pumpkin "owl" to watch some fun zombie-themed shenanigans together, putting the cherry on top of a perfectly fabulous Halloween weekend.

Thursday, my best-friend-forever came into town after 10 months of separation, and it was just heavenly to have her nearby!

(We get a little ridiculous when we're together)

Friday, we hosted our annual Autumn Masquerade Extravaganza!

(Can you guess who I am?)

(Think board games... childhood... sugary goodness...)

Give up? I'm Candyland's Queen Frostine!

(See the resemblance?)

(And 100 bonus points to anyone who can guess Braden's costume!)

Saturday evening, Braden and I enjoyed one of our fave October traditions - Columbia City Ballet's fabulous version of Dracula! (Which was seriously better than ever this year. I mean, they worked "Party Rock Anthem" into the choreography. How cool is that??) Followed by busting out Queen Frostine one more time for yet another costume bash. It was an incredible weekend. Wish you were here!

A Wrecky Homage.

2011-10-26T21:35:00.000-04:00

So I don't know about you, but I am a HUGE fan of Cake Wrecks. It never fails to be fall-out-cho-chair hilarious. So because of those fine writers, I now always keep my eyes open for horrific cake jobs for my own amusement.

Now, I would never even consider elevating myself to the freshly-baked fabulosity that defines the Wreckinators, but after coming across some fairly amusing cakes recently, I thought I might offer an homage through my own commentary.

First, we have a sassy "zebra striped" cake.

I'm seeing more of a "crawling with leeches" look, but hey, the pink roses really cheer it up.

Next up, a charming pond of goldfish...

I don't know if it's the horrifically detached tails, the bulging eyes, or the cherry-red, collagen injected lips, but these fish seem to bring to mind an atomic waste situation more than a cute lil' bowl of pets.

And last but not least...

AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!! Stuff a doll in a cake, add some elaborate hair flotsam, stick on a bunch of plastic spiders, and you've got Halloween gold!

(The the best part? All of these cakes were found together in the same bakery case at my local Bi-Lo!)

And on that note, are you ready for Halloween weekend? I'm getting excited. Here's a sneak-peak at my costume:

Any guesses? Stay tuned for the big reveal this weekend! Happy Wednesday!

Sucking the marrow.

2011-10-23T22:21:00.001-04:00

One of my favorite bloggers ever, Kelle Hampton from Enjoying The Small Things, often uses a phrase in regards to getting the most out every minute of life: "Sucking the marrow." It basically just means taking the time to really invest in joy and drink in every experience life has to offer.

I just love that.

And this weekend, we sucked the marrow baby.

In fact, we gulped it.

We headed to Asheville during the absolute, glorious PEAK of Autumn color and stayed here:

Oh yes. Your eyes do not deceive you. That is, in fact, a tee-pee.

There were campfires, shooting stars, telescopes, songs and guitars, and fun new friends to laugh and talk with late into the night under the stars.

And, BTW, Asheville is just magical. I've never been to a city more steeped in art, culture, great food, and harmony with nature. We ate at insanely amazing Himalayan and Brazilian restaurants. We sat shoeless on cushions on the floor of a tea room. We lounged on rattan sofas to the sounds of a hammered dulcimer while drinking authentic kava from Vanuatu. And, of course, made multiple trips to the French Broad Chocolate Lounge. We wandered the vintage shops and book stores and record stores. We stared in awe at God's spectacular creation. And we just laughed and talked and tried to pack in as many fun new experiences as possible. It was glorious.

But we're happy to be home in our (warm) bed. Content and sleepy and filled with joy.

It's the most wonderful time of the year.

2011-10-13T22:44:00.000-04:00

I love October. It's like, my favorite month. And we've been reveling in every scrumptious minute of it. Last week, that breathtaking sky greeted us here:

The Big Mo! It was our first time ever at a drive-in together, and we had a blast! The Big Mo is kinda a local treasure. It has remained basically unchanged for the last 50 years, and it is just a delicious little step back in time. We're hooked.

And then last night, at about 9:30, I was working on choreography for my dance class, Braden was studying for a midterm, and all was peaceful and winding-down at the Poovey Palace. And then, suddenly struck with a wild-hair, I said, "Hey babe, why don't we pop over to the fair real quick?" And 5 minutes later, we were in the car. And it was heaven. No planning, no coordinating, just pure, spontaneous fun.

And then there was this - my all-time favorite carnival ride EVER. (My uncontrollable hyena-like cackling has even been known to score me free rides from amused carnies.) Feel free to laugh along with me.

I love how sharing a ride at the fair is the ultimate unifying human experience for strangers. No matter how different you may be, when you ride something crazy together, you form a bond yo. I had a beautiful, hilarious "conversation" with a couple who didn't even speak English from opposite sides of the rocking ship consisting exclusively of hand gestures, facial expressions, and laughter. It was a riot, and we shared knowing smiles and giggles as we parted ways after the ride's magic had finally been broken.

And, by the way, this exists. Fo' real:

Now I'm getting excited about this weekend. What new adventures will it bring? No one can tell. But I'll give you a hint - at least one adventure includes white-water kayaking!

Happy Thursday!

Favorite Fall Flicks

2011-10-02T22:07:00.000-04:00

I don't do "scary." Slasher-style horror flicks and gory, jump-scare haunted houses can kiss my grits. But I do love great stories that bring to mind the mysterious, spooky, and just plain delightful nature of this fabulous time of year! Here are some favorites if you're looking for a great cooler-weather movie night this season:

This is one of our all-time-favorite "Poovey classics." Truly, the clever writing and hilarious story line are even more delightful to adults than to kids. We don't get tired of this one, and quote it often ;)

Set on Halloween night, "Arsenic and Old Lace" is just as laugh-out-loud funny today as it was in 1944. We enjoyed this classic this past weekend and enjoyed every minute of it.

Oh Tim Burton, can you do no wrong? Hitting just the right balance of clever, witty, charming, and spooky, the "Corpse Bride" is the perfect October delight.

And if you were a Disney-bred child of the 80's like myself, maybe you also fell in love with their animated interpretation of "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" like I did! It's one of my all-time favorite spooky stories, and Disney's version pretty much defined the Halloweens of my childhood. You can check out the full original version here.

Do you have any favorite Fall-flicks? Let's hear 'em! Until then, I'll be curled up with a cozy blanket, a steaming mug of cider, and one of our personal faves!

October Sky

2011-10-02T20:18:00.000-04:00

When dawn broke on October 1st, we in SC were greeted by crisp, cool air, heavenly breezes, and a startling Autumn-blue sky. Literally overnight, Fall has arrived.

October was all like "Now you know you couldn't start Fall without me ya'll! Bizzow! Octobah is in the hizz-ouse!! Now let's get this party started!"

(That's how I would imagine October would sound if it were, in fact, a sentient being and could, you know, talk)

We kicked the season off right last week with a favorite annual tradition: our "First Day of Fall Soiree," which was literally so much fun that I completely forgot to take pictures. (Trust me on this, ok? It totally rocked. For realz.) And I wouldn't be surprised if my husband and I literally turned into a couple of pumpkins for all of the delicious pumpkin by-products we've ingested over the last 9 days.

(Word of the day? Literally.)

This weekend we've both been plagued by yucky colds, which forced us to slow down, stay in, and indulge in some truly delicious rest & relaxation. We're talking great books, classic movies, steamy mugs of apple cider, open windows, lingering brunches, tandem motorcycle adventures, and lots of laughter. (My husband's the coolest - have I mentioned that lately?)

Last night, temps dipped into the 40's, so I decided to find a unique way to warm up...

Oh yeah.

That's me.

Inside a flaming hula-hoop!!!

And it was ah- wait for it -mazing.

And nice n' toasty! I think I'm hooked. A fire hoop may just be on my birthday list!

Weekend phone dump:

How are you kicking off this spectacular Autumn season? I'd love to hear about it! Stay tuned this week for favorite Fall movies and smashing cool-weather-reads. Happy Sunday!

"Writer's Trepidation"

2011-09-28T21:59:00.000-04:00

Is that a thing? I don't know if that's a thing.

But if it is, I suffer from it.

Mind if I get vulnerable with you for a minute? I toss around lots of ideas for blog entries, short stories, articles, new chapters, etc. throughout every single day. Too many things at once, like a pinball machine in my brain. And then I freak out because I can't decide which idea to focus on. And then I have every intention of sitting down to write, but then I get busy and distracted and tired and suddenly it's late and I tell myself I just shouldn't bother tonight. I'll write tomorrow. And then a week goes by. And then I panic because I have no idea what concept or project to hone in on, and I feel like no one even reads this junk anyway, and at this rate I'll never finish writing an entire book, and how dare I even call myself a writer...and so on and so forth in a downward spiral of creative negativity.

(Yeah, geeze, I know. I coulda been a drama major.)

I imagine that lots of creative people are sometimes plagued by the errant possibility that we actually completely suck at that which we love to do, that we'll never amount to anything major, or never have another really amazing idea again. (Anyone? Anyone? Or maybe it is just me.) But I guess that's not really the point, right? In general, when I'm creating in any way, whether that be with words or paint or music or dance or whatever, I'm doing it for myself. Because I just feel better when I can throw some thoughts and feelings out into the void in my own unique way. It's cathartic. And heck, it's alot cheaper than therapy.

But on the flip side, I'm also a chronic people-pleasing perfectionist. I want you to like what I create, and in turn like me. I want someone to see/read/hear something I've expressed and be moved by it in some way. To think it's good. And because of this approval-seeking sickness I'm infected with, I'm easily shattered by criticism. Therefore fair reader, on some level, I am at your mercy. And a part of me honestly hates that. It's like I'm saying "Look at me! Look at me! Look at me! But only if you like what you see! Please please please be nice to me?" Pathetic, right? I'm working on it, I promise. And I wish I had thought of a nice way to tie all this up in a pretty bow right now, but I just can't think of anything at the moment. I just wanted to be transparent tonight. Full disclosure.

As I sign off for now, I'm just going to keep trying to be brave. Keep putting creative energy out there and letting the chips fall where they may. I'm teaching my first-ever dance class next week, and I'm just as terrified as I am excited about it. What if I stink? What if no one likes it? But I'm going to suck all that up and charge forward anyway.

So here's to letting creativity and excitement overpower trepidation! Are ya with me???

True Wuv - Part Duex

2011-09-14T21:24:00.000-04:00

On September 13th, 2004, while evacuated to South Carolina for hurricane Frances, I met the love of my life.

I was only 18, freshly graduated from high school, and coming off of an emotional, exciting summer of self-discovery before starting college. When I saw Braden for the first time, the words "The One" flashed through my mind. And boy did we fall hard and fast! 18 days after we met, he drove down to Florida to ask my parents for their blessing to start a relationship with me. It was during that visit, the second time he ever saw me, that he told me he was in love. 4 months later, we were engaged. And talk about fireworks! Talk about magic! Talk about fairy dust and destiny and emotional highs that felt like skydiving every minute of every day! WOOOEEEEE we were out-of-our-minds IN LOVE!

Now, it's been seven years and one day since I met the man of my dreams, and I can honestly tell you that we are more in love right-this-second than we've ever been before.

You see, true love, like excellent wine, only gets better with time. Now, we are best friends in a way that could only be cultivated over many years together. We have countless of inside jokes. Laugh at the same things. Share the same stories. Sleep in the same bed. Experience the same adventures. Know all the dirty secrets, most embarrassing moments, and most intimate joys. Smelled each other's farts and seen each other pee. We get each other. True love is so much more than the movies. Yes, it is roses and candlelight and slow-dancing in the living room. But it's also rubbing backs when someone's puking all over the place. And then cleaning up said puke out of unconditional love. It's staying up all night together in the ER. It's praying together. And doing the dishes when you don't want to. And scrubbing toilets together. And crying together. And sometimes being just the two of you against the world when everything sucks (as it sometimes will.) It's being completely vulnerable in every way to another human being - it's taking a massive leap of faith.

And man, man is that more beautiful than just the roses and rainbows and butterflies. The real thing, shoot, it's incredible my friends. And it's worth holding out for.

I feel the Earth move under my feet.

2011-08-28T21:12:00.000-04:00

It's been an interesting week topped off by an emotional weekend.

Earlier this week, I got to experience my first ever earthquake. It was very minor here in SC, but also an extremely weird, exciting event. I realized that the ground is something I generally take for granted, and it reminded me that truly nothing in this world is permanent or static.

I also managed to do something grown human adults almost never do, which is trip and fall and eat sidewalk. Hard. I was on my way to meeting on a college campus, boppin' along, chatting with my mom, and the next thing I know, I'm on the ground, coffee in the dirt, clothes ripped, and bleeding. A very kindly soul took me to the student health center to get all of the gravel and dirt of of my knee, but it's now 4 days later, and I'm still limping. I'm very grateful that it wasn't worse, but I'm getting antsy not being able to do normal things without extreme discomfort.

And then yesterday, a precious, beautiful woman of God who was a part of my church family back home unexpectedly passed away. My heart is aching for her sweet family, but it brings such peace to know that she is now in the presence of Jesus. And in the very same day, my best friend lost her grandmother, and I hate that I cannot be with her right this moment several states away.

Basically, I have been left unsettled and anxious about the impermanence of everything in our lives. If left to my own devices, I could be a fearful, sniveling wreck in 5 seconds flat. But I feel God whispering His truth into my fears, that no matter what happens in this life, that He is unchanging. That He is faithful. And that He is already existing in the future I know nothing about, and He has it under control. I happen to be re-reading "The Hiding Place" by Corrie Ten Boom at the moment, which is one of my absolute favorite books of all time, and also a quick way to get some perspective on any Earthly trouble I may ever face. Corrie Ten Boom and her sister, Betsie, are two of my heroes. I want to see the world the way they did, and this is what they said about worry and fear:

"There are no 'ifs' in God's world. And no places that are safer than other places. The center of His will is our only safety - O Corrie, let us pray that we may always know it!"
-Betsie Ten Boom

"Worrying is carrying tomorrow's load with today's strength- carrying two days at once. It is moving into tomorrow ahead of time. Worrying doesn't empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength."
-Corrie Ten Boom

Only Christ is certain. Not even the ground beneath our feet is permanent. But He is all we need.

Psalm 46:1-3, 10-11

¹ God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.

² Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
³ though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.

¹⁰ He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.”

¹¹ The LORD Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.

I'm spittin' mad.

2011-08-11T22:54:00.000-04:00

Tonight, I'm just going to write exactly what I'm thinking. Tonight, I am angry.

I was blessed enough to be born in 1985 in Southern Florida, where a melting pot of cultures, backgrounds, and national origins all come together in one, big, interesting stew.

But my own parents, just one generation behind me, can remember a time when they witnessed separate drinking fountains and bathrooms for white people and African-American people. It was only 55 years ago that Rosa Parks was arrested for refusing to give up her seat on a segregated bus. How is it possible that this kind of treatment of other human beings can exist in such painfully recent history? American's were horrified by the Nazi's atrocities in WWII, and yet nauseating violence against African American's in our own backyards resulted in people simply looking the other way, while Jim Crow laws, which actually inspired the Nuremburg laws that the Nazi's used against the Jews, existed in the United States until 1965. If you ever want your eyes forced open to some of these truly horrific realities of our nation's history, pick up Uncle Tom's Children by Richard Wright. I often had to put the book down because I was sobbing so convulsively while reading it, but I'm glad I finished it. I'm glad I now know some of these hard truths.

Now, I live in South Carolina, where a confederate flag still flies over the capitol building, where many neighborhoods still seem segregated, and perfectly coiffed Southern Belles still make subtly racist remarks with a wink and a smile.

Frankly, it makes me sick.

You do realize that all human beings are created equal, right? You do realize that every man, woman, and child on this Earth is created in the image of God, right? And you do realize that God is not white, right? If you have a problem with interracial marriage, then you are guilty of sin. You see, racism is a sin. Discrimination, is a sin. Jesus was pretty clear on that during his time on this Earth. In fact, Jesus made it a point to spend time with and invest in the lives of people who everyone else thought was worthless: women, lepers, prostitutes, Samaritans, tax collectors, cripples, and the like. Jesus ignored every cultural norm and stereotype of his day and age and reached out and loved people right down to their souls. Jesus made the value of every human life abundantly clear in his every word and deed. If Jesus had been in the United States before 1865, you better believe he would have been breaking bread with slaves, salving their wounds, and showing them true freedom. And you do remember that Jesus was, in fact, a middle-eastern Jew, right? It seems like people of middle-eastern descent are the white American's new favorite target for discrimination, so I thought it was important to point that out.

It is 2011 people - WAKE UP. If you've ever made a racist or sexist joke, (even if you thought you covered yourself with a "just kidding"), shame on you. If you've ever made a comment that started with "I'm not racist, but..." shame on you.

Be better than that. The next generation deserves better.

(And if anyone would like to join me in a clandestine operation to removed that God-forsaken confederate flag from the Statehouse grounds, just let me know...)

Wuv, true wuv...

2011-08-06T17:01:00.000-04:00

It seems like there is an entire library of materials out there dedicated to marriage advice. Some of it's good, some is OK, and some (maybe more than some) is complete crap. The thing is, there's no magic formula that equals a perfect marriage - like anything else worth having, it takes work and commitment to build something truly special. I am by no means an expert, but now that I have 5 years of marriage under my belt, I've learned a ton. I don't have a perfect marriage, because a perfect marriage would require two perfect people.

(And the only one I know was a life-long bachelor)

But I do have a great marriage. A beautiful marriage. A fun marriage. And it totally rocks. I'm getting pretty sick of people telling engaged couples and newlyweds to "watch out - just wait till the honeymoon phase is over - brace yourself for the hardest year of your life!"

Give me a break!

Marriage can be absolutely amazing. Yes, it is the biggest learning experience you'll ever encounter, but it doesn't have to be a bad learning experience! Braden and I were only 19 when we got engaged, so we had the added learning curve of being very young and lacking in life experience. But it was still so wonderful. Yep, you are in imperfect, flawed, idiosyncratic human being who is choosing to share your life with another imperfect, flawed, idiosyncratic human being, and that can definitely result in some friction from time to time. But that's ok. You will look back on those conflicts and adjustments as a terrific tool that God used to help you learn about your spouse and to learn about yourself. And your marriage will be the better for it. Here are some really important things that we've learned over the last 5 years that have helped make our marriage awesome:

1. Never stop being best friends.

Braden and I are, first and foremost, absolute best friends. We just love to have fun together. It doesn't matter what we're doing, we can make it awesome. We talk about everything, share even the littlest bits of our life with each other, and never stop cracking each other up. Laughter will take you far in your marriage, and being best friends is what will keep your relationship solid for the next 20, 30, even 50+ years.

2. Choose your battles.

I'll be the first to admit: I'm stubborn, I like to be right, and I love a good debate. My husband happens to be exactly the same way. Needless to say, early in our marriage, we could duke it out with the best of them. Often over ridiculous crap we can't even remember now. Here's a good rule of thumb - before you start (or continue) an argument, ask yourself "Will this issue matter in a year? In 10 years? In 50 years?" If not, it's probably not worth fighting about. Be willing to let it go. Some things are just not worth the breath it takes to hash out. Learn how to love your spouse more than you love being right. Forgive. Forget. Don't hold grudges. This is an area we have grown so much in, and I tell ya what, it's a beautiful thing. (Sidebar: this does not mean you should avoid conflict like the plague - on the contrary, issues and feelings should always be discussed openly and honestly. Just know the difference between communicating sincerely about an issue, and just being ugly and hurtful to the other person. Which leads me to my next point.)

3. Communication is everything.

Maybe you haven't noticed this yet, but women and men are different. Really, really, really different. It's these differences that make women and men such an excellent compliment to each other. It can also seem like getting a penguin to understand a wombat might be easier than getting a man to understand a woman sometimes, and visa-versa. But communication is the magical salve that can fix nearly any conflict or misunderstanding! Ladies, your man cannot read your mind. I feel like you might have missed that, so I'm going to say it again: ladies, your man cannot read your mind! That means he cannot discern your every thought and feeling through your tone of voice, silent treatment, pouting, huffing, or carefully laid trail of breadcrumbs. You have to tell him (using words) exactly what you're thinking and feeling and why. Then you will begin to understand each other. Talk talk talk. About everything. Don't play games. Address issues like a grown up. The more openly and honestly you communicate, the more you'll start to "get" one another, and your marriage will grow stronger and more beautiful because of it.

4. Egalitarian relationships are cool.

At this stage in our lives, my hubby and I both work full-time. We also both clean, both cook, and both take care of basic stuff around the house. It's a partnership. We share the responsibilities of our shared life. When we have kids, I plan to stay home with them, but even then, my husband has already asserted that he will always share in responsibilities around the house. In his words, a full-time job is a full-time job, and raising kids is a full-time job, and taking care of the house is a full-time job, so why should one of us have to do two full-time jobs? Marriage is a partnership my friends, and if you openly communicate about even the littlest, most niggling details of sharing a life together, you will both find more peace and less resentment. (For example, I hate vacuuming, so Braden does all of the vacuuming. Braden hates hanging clean laundry, so I hang the laundry. See? Easy!) Also, he likes to cook for me. Which is pretty awesome.

5. Focus on the beautiful.

Growing up, my mom always used to say "before you get married, keep your eyes wide open; and after you get married, keep them half-shut!" As a kid, I had no idea what she was talking about. But now, I get it. When you're committed to someone for a lifetime, it benefits everyone to focus on the positive, the beautiful, and the encouraging things about that person. If you wanted to, you could get out a piece of paper right now and write down a list of things you don't like about your best friend. You could, if pressed, probably thing of things that irritate you about almost every person you know. But how productive is that? Are your relationships with anyone going to get any better if you list on paper all the things that drive you crazy about them? I doubt it. So why do people seem to do this constantly with their spouses? A lifestyle of nit-picking is like being nibbled to death by angry ducks - it's just not a good time for anybody involved. I'm sure there are all sorts of areas that your spouse needs to improve in, but guess what? So do you! You married this person, right? So clearly, there are a whole heck-of-a-lot of things you adore about them. Focus on those things you love, the things you admire, the things that make you smile - the traits that made you fall head-over-heels in the first place. Write that list down. And go tell your spouse how much you appreciate them for everything they are. Go now. I'll wait.

...

Here's the thing: God gave you your spouse. God hand-crafted the two of you for each other, and there is no one else on earth who is more perfectly tailored for you than the man or woman God already gave you. It is His will for you to live a life of love and unity and joy and friendship together until death do you part. What an incredible gift it is to be able to share your life with someone who loves you - now go make it as beautiful as it can be!

Shackles

2011-07-29T23:29:00.000-04:00

Do you remember that song "Shackles" by Mary Mary?

One of the dance teams in the hip-hop company I used to be a part of had a killer routine to this song, so between rehearsals, shows, and practices, I've literally heard "Shackles" about a thousand times between high school and now.

The other day, while I was out running some errands for work, this old-school danceable gem popped up on the radio. So I cranked up the volume and started having a marvelous time bustin' it out in my car.

And then something I did not expect happened: I burst into tears. Suddenly, I am just sobbing in my car! After hearing that song a bazillion times, something completely new pierced right to my heart:

I used to be bound. A prisoner. A captive. I was never free.

But then something amazing happened - Jesus stepped in and rescued me. He took the shackles off my feet so I can DANCE!

Perhaps the truth of this song has always resonated with you, but for me, it took hearing that oh-so-grooveable tune for the bazillion-and-oneth time in my car on steaming hot summer day, ending with pouring my heart out to the Lord through my tears. Thank you Jesus, thank you!

Loves like a hurricane.

2011-07-28T23:55:00.000-04:00

Have you ever gotten to experience the insanity of a hurricane first-hand?

I was born and raised in southern Florida, so hurricanes were just a part of life for us growing up. Ya'll get snow days? We got hurricane days. Usually it was pretty fun; no school, sitting outside in the wind watching the rain-bands come in, checking out the insane waves at the beach, telling stories by candlelight, and combining roller-blades and garbage bags to harness the wind into pretty exciting propulsion devices.

Most of the storms we dealt with were relatively minor, (for hurricanes, that is), but hard-core Floridians that we were, we never evacuated. But back in 2004, we got to ride out the most intense storm I've ever experienced. Hurricane Jeanne was a very strong category 3 storm. (For those of you unfamiliar with the Saffir-Simpson scale, that means winds of up to 130 mph and a storm surge of up to 12 feet. Yowza.) Our house stood strong, but I'll never forget the deafening roar of the wind, or the way the entire house shook with each gust.

My brother and I, intelligent and curious young people that we were, had planned ahead to be able to experience the full force of this storm in an up-close-and-personal manner. Earlier in the day, we had tied ropes to a downed palm tree in our front yard and lead them to the front door of the house. Our plan was to use the ropes as guides and anchors so we could go outside during the most intense parts of the storm and experience the insanity! So in the dead of night, we made several trips into the yard, and quite nearly were carried away into the darkness. Have you ever felt 130 mph winds in your face? Combined with torrential rain and unthinkable debris?

Yeah, it was a blast. Luckily we weren't struck by a flying pool enclosure or anything, and we managed to get quite a rush out of it.

But I tell you what, when I heard the lyrics to one of my new favorite worship songs, it felt like God was speaking right to me:

He is jealous for me,
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden,
I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And I realize just how beautiful You are,
And how great Your affections are for me.

And oh, how He loves us so,
Oh how He loves us,
How He loves us all

After feeling the actual force of a hurricane, and literally being bowled-over by its power, it blows my mind that the love of God is even more intense and incredible and powerful than that.

He loves like a hurricane, I am a tree.

Why the Twilight franchise is teaching young girls horrible lessons.

2011-07-17T16:14:00.000-04:00

I'll admit it: I enjoy the Twilight series.

I own all the books and have attended midnight showings of all the movies so far. They're not spectacularly well written, some of the plot devices are stupid, and, frankly, alot of the characters suck. I can't really logically quantify what's fun about them for me, but for some reason, it is, and I'm willing to give myself a pass to enjoy them. What can I say, it's a guilty pleasure.

But I'm a well adjusted, critically-thinking, happily married adult woman who can differentiate between fictional fluff and real life, which is very unlike a large volume of Twilight's target audience. Would I let my future "tween" daughter devour this series? Eh, I'm not so sure. There are some positive messages in the stories, (sacrificial love, abstinence until marriage, don't murder people even when you really really want to, etc.), but alot of the messages young women are getting from these stories are just plain jacked up.

1. Your life will be empty and meaningless until you get a boyfriend.

If you were going for both awkward and nauseated, you nailed it.

Let's start with a character I absolutely loath: Bella Swan. Yep, she's the lead protagonist, and everything about her basically spits in the face of every strong literary female who's every graced the page. Imagine if Elizabeth Bennett had curled up into a ball of self-loathing after Mr. Darcy called her ugly at the ball and never did anything productive ever again. The end. That's Bella in a nutshell. The book lets you know right off the bat that Bella is not particularly pretty, not particularly smart, doesn't have any friends, is painfully shy, has horrible self-esteem, and is so clumsy that she's practically disabled. She has no apparent plans for the future, no goals, no dreams, and no hobbies. She moves to Forks in an emo state of passive-aggressive self-exile and plans to be miserable and brooding for the foreseeable future. Wow, what a gem. But then she meets a sparkly guy who wants to kill her, and suddenly she's found the true meaning of her existence. Which brings me to my next point:

2. Even if a guy tells you he wants to kill you, it's cool to stick with him anyway and just hope for the best.

That's the face of a murderous bloodsucker that your teenage daughter wants to make-out with.

So Bella meets Edward and she is instantly plagued by an unhealthy level of obsession with this chach. At first, he avoids her like the plague and treats her like crap, which inexplicably only fuels the fires of her passion. Eventually, the truth comes tumbling out and he tells her that he is not only a vampire, but that he particularly wants to murder and eat her more than any other human on earth. He tells her in no uncertain terms to stay away from him, because he could literally kill her at any moment. For some reason, this just makes Bella even more hot and bothered. Someone needs to get this girl some therapy.

3. If my boyfriend is controlling, clingy, and exhibits stalker-like behavior, it just means he loves me.

We've got a stage-5 clinger.

For those of you who haven't read the books, here are some things that actually happen in the story: for months before he and Bella even start hanging out, Edward sneaks into her bedroom every night to watch her sleep. In most states, that's a restraining order and possibly jail time. (Bella just thinks it's romantic.) He also constantly tells Bella what she can and cannot do, going so far as to grab her and physically force her into and out of various situations and even removing parts of her car's engine on one occasion to keep her from being able to leave the house. He also frequently has mood swings which cause him to yell at her, boss her around, and generally just be a jerk. If this girl were my client, I would call the police for her.

4. It's OK to date a guy who's old enough to be my great grandfather.

Does no one else have a problem with a 109 year old man dating a 17 year old girl?Just because he's encased in Robert Pattinson's sparkly, brooding, eternally 17-year-old body does not make this dude any less old or any less creepy. And in what universe does a dreamy, immortal guy with the wisdom of the ages fall for a whiny highschooler with all the charm of a dead carp? "Oh, but Bella is an old soul! Only a guy like Edward could be her true match!" You know who else thinks she's an "old soul?" This chick:

Now imagine if that guy was twice as old. Would that make it less creepy for you? I think not.

5. When a boy you like dumps you, there is no other option than to plunge headfirst into months of misery and crippling suicidal depression.

Shortly after this screen-shot was taken, Kristen Stewart was pooped on by a chipmunk. Serves her right.

In New Moon, Edward dumps Bella for her own good after his family nearly eats her at her own birthday party. And how does Bella respond? With a few days of tearful ice cream eating over Lifetime movies followed by pulling herself up by the bootstraps and getting on with her freakin' life? Oh no. That's what a healthy, well-balanced person would do. Immediately after the breakup, she actually goes into some altered mental state, loses the will to go on, and falls to the ground unconscious in the woods, forcing the entire town of Forks (e.i. 13 people) into a search party to track her down. Bella then proceeds to spend the next six months literally in a near-catatonic state. She wakes her father up every single night screaming in her sleep, severs every relationship she had with her friends, and basically just withdraws from life in every imaginable way. She even starts hallucinating - hearing Edward's voice in her head every time she does something stupid and dangerous - which makes her start purposefully engaging in high-risk behaviors to enter into this hallucinogenic state. (Luckily, the book glossed over the inevitable time spent with tranny hookers and gratuitous heroin use.) Is anyone else seeing how freaking insane this is? Why her clearly negligent father didn't force her into therapy and psychotropic drugs is absolutely beyond me. And what eventually brought her out of this state of insanity, you ask? Did time and counseling and some well prescribed happy-pills finally heal her broken heart? Nope. She tracked Edward down and latched on to him like a lamprey, never to let go again...

And finally,

6. If you really, really like someone, you should give up everything for them. (Which includes but is not limited to your friends, your family, your goals, your education, your career, and even your immortal soul.)

Oh, on second thought, you kinda taste like Funyuns. Never mind.

Not that Bella had any real goals or dreams to begin with, but after Edward hits the scene, everything else can just go straight to heck for all she cares. All she wants is for Edward to bite her and turn her into a bloodsucking hell-beast. Luckily, Edward shows a little bit of positivity here by constantly refusing to "change" her, hoping that she will instead go to college and pursue some interests and frankly get a freakin' life. But Bella will have none of that. College? Who needs it? A relationship with my parents? Screw those jerks. Friends? What friends? A career? But I'm not good at anything and my boyfriend is flush with cash! Who needs a rich and fulfilling life filled with positive relationships, new experiences, and meaningful contributions to society when I can just stare at this glittering face for the rest of eternity?

Uh, BTW, pretty sure those abs are CGI.

Good news and bad news.

2011-05-15T20:16:00.000-04:00

It's been a weird week.

Emotional.

Draining.

Hard to describe.

All day Thursday, I waited on pins and needles for phone calls revealing important medical test results for two of the people I love the most in the world. What are the odds that both of their results would come back on the same day?

The good news:

Geoff, (one of my best friends and practically a brother to me), has been battling extremely aggressive cancer for the last 5 years. The road he has walked his entire adult life is one that most of us can't even imagine. On Thursday, I found out that against all odds, he is finally in complete remission. I can't even begin to describe what amazing news this is! So many prayers, finally answered.

The bad news:

My sweet daddy, the coolest, most loving guy in the whole world, was diagnosed with prostate cancer. Honestly, I don't really know how to feel about it yet. I'm still trying to process it all. The great part is that they caught it extremely early, and there are lots of treatment options. The prognosis is excellent, and the survival rate for this kind of cancer is enormous. Basically, if you're going to get cancer, this is about the best kind you can get. But even with all of those reasons not to worry, I can't help it. I hate that I live 500 miles away. I hate the word "cancer" associated with anyone I love. I hate that my mom and brothers are worried and processing all of this too, especially Ian, who's only in the forth grade. So basically I'm writing this to ask for prayer. For complete healing for my dad, and peace for all of us. Thanks; it really means the world.

Colorful inspiration

2011-04-13T23:45:00.001-04:00

Since last night, my living room floor has been covered in a thick layer of this:

It may seem like a mess, but as it involves projects-in-progress, I consider it positive fung shui. I recently discovered this absolutely delightful blog: Color Me Katie, and I was completely inspired by her fun use of brightly colored paper to routinely transform her living space. Cheap, fun, and removable - brilliant! So I've basically been pulling a crazed Edward Scissorhands for the last 24 hours. The results thus far:

This super-fun brightening of the wall around my closet door:

This fine feathered friend in the guest bathroom:

And a full-wall flock in the living room!

I think there is much more papered-craziness still to come. I bought a 200 pack of multi-colored card stock last night, so this could get a little ridiculous.
(All I used for these projects was paper, scissors, and masking tape.)

Also, I braved crazy traffic to take this picture in the middle of a busy road today:

These people put this pair of robots out on their balcony for every holiday. I almost spit out my lime-aid when I saw their take on Easter.

You're welcome.

Erin go bragh!

2011-03-17T21:09:00.000-04:00

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

This is seriously one of my favorite holidays of the whole year. If you hadn't noticed, I come from a crazy-Irish family, (on both sides), so March 17th has always been a huge deal around my house. As a kid, I had to sleep in green pajamas to avoid being awoken with a barrage of pinches. My fam hosts a huge St. Patty's Day dinner every year, including every imaginable piece of traditional Irish fare (corned beef and cabbage, potato soup, Irish stew, shepherds pie, etc.) and everything else dyed green. Even the drinking water. My husband grew up paying absolutely no attention to the holiday whatsoever, (even though his very name [Braden] means "salmon" in Gaelic. Seriously. Look it up), but he does share my love of all-things Irish (including red-headed gals ~wink~) We spent two glorious weeks on the Emerald Isle for our honeymoon in 2006, and fell head-over-heels in love with the country, the people, the scenery, the music, and the way of life. Today, we celebrated with a thoroughly Irish feast at Delaney's Irish Pub, complete with Guinness and live (fantastic) fiddle music! It was delightful! And we didn't even have to cook!

So Irish or not, how are you celebrating St. Patty's this year? (But, please, if your answer includes drinking green beer in 5 Points, just lie to me and say you watched Lord of the Dance or something, ok?)

Sláinte!

Spring Fever

2011-03-15T22:37:00.000-04:00

"It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!" ~Mark Twain

Time for some transparency: I've been having a really rough couple of weeks. Some things in my life that I thought were quite stable have been shaken up a bit (or more than a bit), and God is teaching me some pretty major stuff through it. So I want to take a minute to focus of some of the things that I'm just loving right now (and there's always alot to love people. Truly.)

1. Wisteria. My absolute favorite thing about Spring. And overnight, it's here! Lush, abundant, untamed, fleeting, and sweet. I will simply drench myself in those heavenly blossoms for as long as I can. I would swim in them if I could.

2. That bright, blinding Spring-green that's blowing up all over the crackly winter forest.

3. Those amazing white pear blossom flowers that look like snow balls and fall and blow all over everything.

4. Daylight after I get home from work!

5. The fact that I have so much fresh, hydroponic basil growing on my kitchen counter right now that we have to say things like "we need to cook with a ton of basil this week." Twist my arm!

6. Wide-open windows.

7. Bulb flowers popping up everywhere like it's their job. They're all like, "I've been chillin' here all winter long and you didn't even know it! And now here I am! Surprise!"

8. I have the best husband in the world. No joke.

9. I got to spend the whole weekend with my mom! In Maryland! At a wedding! She's the bestest.

10. I danced my booty off at said wedding. Like, for real. Poppin' and lockin' in the middle of a dance circle. "Bustin' a move" as my mom describes it. (And to hear her say that is absolutely, positively, just as funny as it sounds.)

11. I seriously have the best family that has ever existed in the history of the world. Those who know them totally agree with me.

12. Literally almost falling over with laughter with my mom, aunts, grandparents, and cousins this weekend.

13. Three words: Cadberry Cream Eggs.

14. Making homemade pizza margherita for dinner, complete with fresh, made-from-scratch tomato sauce, home-grown basil, a glass of cab-sav, and a bruschetta appetizer drizzled with 18 year old balsamic vinegar. Why would anyone ever give up carbs? For real.

15. Kayaking season. Took our first spin of 2011 last weekend with a group of friends, and in our "experienced river folk" hubris, managed to totally eat rocks on our first rapid of the day. It was a complete blast! I love that me and my hubs can flip a boat over mid-rapid, get completely soaked and banged up in the freezing water, climb back in, navigate out, and be laughing and singing the whole way down!

So what are you loving right now? Happy almost-Spring!

I feel it in my fingers...

2011-02-22T22:33:00.000-05:00

I feel it in my toes... (feel it in my toe-oe-oooooes...)

Spring-time is all around me... and so the feeling grows...

(... So the feeling grow-ow-ooooows.)

Aaand on a completely different note, I just love this bumper sticker.

(10,000 points for the first person to get the song reference.)

Oops, this was supposed to go up on Valentine's Day...

2011-02-20T21:38:00.000-05:00

Rock-star woman.

2011-02-20T21:34:00.000-05:00

This month, (on February 9th, to be exact), marks the 78th birthday of one of the most beautiful, inspiring women I've ever known.

I've been meaning to write a post about my grandmother for a while now, and being her birthday month, I thought this was the perfect time to do it. My grandmother, Marilyn Hayes, was born Marilyn Ellman in Cincinnati, Ohio during the Great Depression. Growing up, she was a cracker-jack softball player and would eat a hot-fudge sundae after every single game! When she was only 14 years old, she met my grandfather, Norman Hayes, while out on a double date with his brother, no less. Needless to say, she and my grandpa got together shortly thereafter, and fell madly in love. The night of their first kiss, my then teenage grandpa ran all the way home, knowing this gal was something really, really special. When they were 20, they got married. They have now been married for 58 incredible years.

In the over half-a-century they've shared together, my grandma has both lived and traveled all over the world with my grandpa (a Lieutenant-Colonel in the US Army), given birth to 10 children (yes, 10!), gotten her degree in nursing (after having all 10 kids!), survived breast cancer, and now has 42 grandchildren and 8 great-grandchildren.

During the long stretches of time when my grandpa was serving overseas in both Korea and Vietnam, my grandma was raising those kids and running the household by herself. She's one tough cookie, that woman. The amount of strength and unfailing faith in God she possesses just baffles me.

In my entire life, I have never seen my grandmother lose her temper or treat anyone with unkindness. She radiates kindness, love, and grace to everyone around her, no matter what the circumstances. Her smile and laughter are infectious, and she is a peace-maker and a giver to her very core. You simply can't be around my grandmother without feeling loved. She's always been a gorgeous woman, and that beauty has only grown and deepened with age. It radiates from the inside out. Though our family is (clearly) enormous and spread out all over the country, they never miss a graduation or a wedding. They keep a laminated family directory on them at all times (literally) with everyone's contact info, birthday, and anniversary, so as never to let a single occasion slip by without a call and a gift. They still take several international trips every year purely for enjoyment and adventure; even as they approach their 80's, they never lose their zest and excitement for living!

If there's ever been a true, living example of the Proverbs 31 woman, it's my grandmother, Marilyn Hayes. Grandma, you never cease to amaze and inspire me, and I love you so much! Thanks for always being there, and showing me what it means to be a Godly woman of noble character!

Thank you Punxsutawney Phil.

2011-02-18T22:46:00.000-05:00

I know Groundhog Day is a rough one for ya, buddy. I know you spend most of your days all warm and snug in your comfy digs at a children's library, surrounded by the smell of books and the sounds of quiet story-times. Until that one cold winter's night a year when those crotchety old men in funny hats stuff you into a hole in Gobblers Knob, only to be accosted by thousands of screaming fans at the butt-crack of dawn the next day.

~Sigh~

Poor Phil. I bet Groundhog Day is the most confusing day of the year for you.

But alas, you did not see your shadow this year.

And today, the temperature hit 80 degrees. In February.

Thanks Phil. I owe ya one.

The day started with a patio breakfast in the sunshine overlooking the city skyline with some mighty fine people = bliss. Then I found out we get a surprise 3 day weekend! Score! And since the weather was just so. completely. glorious. the drum circle/hoop-meet was unofficially moved outdoors for the first time this season! Drums and hooping (in shorts, no less) by the Congaree river under the light of an insanely breathtaking moon rise?

I could seriously make-out with Spring right about now.

It's manufactured, materialistic holiday time!

2011-02-11T21:22:00.000-05:00

And I LOVE IT!

Nay-Sayers, say all ya like, but I just love Valentine's day. I love the flowers. I love the chocolates. I love wandering through the aisles at Target picking out the perfect $2.50 box of Valentines to give to friends. And most of all, I love getting to spend an extra-special, extra-romantic, (extra sassy) day with my honey. But even during the many (many) Valentine's Days I spent as a single gal, I still loved it! For as long as I can remember, my mom always used to make this big fancy "romantic" dinner a'la Lady and the Tramp, and we would all dress up and eat spaghetti and meatballs together by candlelight. My dad would bring me flowers, we gave each other little baskets of presents, and it was always just a really happy day.

And for the last several years, Valentine's week has made me feel extra warm-and-fuzzy for one simple reason: on February 10th, 2005, my husband got down on one knee and asked me to be his wife.

You see, six years ago, I suspected that he was possibly planning to pop-the-question on Valentine's Day, but he wanted me to be completely surprised! I was flying into Columbia for a weekend visit, and my plane landed around 10 o'clock at night. When we reunited in the airport after a few weeks apart, it was wonderful as always. I also couldn't help but notice that Braden was holding a gift bag in his hand. "I got you a little something; an early Valentine's gift." I smiled and opened the bag to find a big box of chocolates. And there was a hand-written letter on the top of the box. The letter was three pages long, and opened up into the shape of a heart. As I read the beautiful words, Braden stood behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist. At first, I thought it was just a thoughtful gift, but as I continued to read, the letter became more and more serious in its intentions! When I finally opened up the heart to reveal the last page, all it said was "Please say yes," and I whirled around to find Braden down on one knee in the airport terminal, a gorgeous diamond ring in his hand. And the rest, as they say, is history :)

We go back to the airport every year to sit in the exact spot where we got engaged, eating desserts, talking, and reminiscing. What can I say? I have the best husband in the world. So no matter who's love you're celebrating this Valentine's Day, make it a joyful day! Celebrate your family, your friends, and the One who created all this lovey-dovey stuff to begin with ;)

1 Corinthians 13

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Snow Days

2011-01-11T21:23:00.000-05:00

There's something really magical about getting a ton of snow in a place that rarely sees it.

Up north, (I would assume), snow probably gets old quick. Having to shovel it, trudge through it, drive in it, and watch it swiftly become dirty and blah for several months out of every year would definitely drive me up the wall in no time flat.

But here, where the whole city shuts down for days over just a few inches of the white stuff, the magic lingers on. In Columbia, the honeymoon with snow is not over yet. Nor do I think it ever will be. Right now, we're on the tail-end of "Snowmageddon 2011," which included about 5 inches of snow in our part of town, followed by enormous amounts of ice covering every imaginable surface with a sparkling layer of frosting. Here, this makes all the roads insanely dangerous and impassable, as we lack both the salt and snowplows to make all this frozen goodness livable. Result? Two delightful days at home with my hubby filled with sledding, exploring, snowball-throwing, espresso drinking, soup making, pajama-snuggling, and a marathon of Modern Family. Blissful, to say the least.

In this town, snow brings everyone outdoors, taking pictures, making angels, having snowball fights, and generally just reveling in the magic that only graces us once or twice a year.

And for this native Florida girl who had never even seen snow until last winter? I'm completely unstiched. I couldn't stop watching it fall, even until the wee hours of the morning. I'd never had a snow day before, and I gotta tell ya, they rock pretty hard. I grew up with "hurricane days" of course, but I must admit that it's pretty fun having an unexpected day off that doesn't include boarding up windows.

Bucket List - Part 2

2011-01-07T18:56:00.000-05:00

When I was a kid, my 5+ page long bucket list included some pretty crazy things, including but not limited to: Dance on the moon, be a lighthouse keeper, live with Bedouin nomads, and own a llama farm. While I'd still love to go to the moon, a few of my childhood dreams are slightly less appealing to me now than they were then. But for any item I ever removed from my list, I've added at least 2 more in its stead! In honor of the new year, I've decided to go ahead and publish my newly updated, freshly revised bucket list for all the world to see. (And by all the world, I mean you, my 7 loyal, dedicated followers.) And I want to hear what's on your list too! Leave me a comment with some of your top must-dos before you peace-out of this life!

So without further ado and in no particular order, my ever-growing, ever-evolving, never-finished bucket list:

-Take my hubby to see Matthew Good in concert in Canada

-See "air jaws" (jumping great white sharks) from inside a diving cage in South Africa

-Swim in the "jellyfish lake" in Palau

-Go to Bora Bora

-Visit all 7 continents (3 down, 4 to go)

-Publish my books

-Live on a sailboat and sail around the world

-Get my SCUBA certification

-Go skydiving

-Become fluent in another language

-Participate in an archeological dig

-Go to outer space

-Get my pilot's license

-Tour Italy

-Make my own wine (including grape stomping)

-Live in Ireland

-Go back to Hurricane Island in Maine and jump off the pier at dawn

-Adopt children internationally

-Own a vineyard

-Learn to make artisan cheese

-Become a nationally known public speaker

-Ride an elephant through Thailand

-See Ankor Wat
-Climb the great pyramid in Egypt
-Visit the Louvre
-Swim with the resident elephant in the Andaman islands

-Attend a live filming of "Top Gear"
-Be part of a flash-mob
-Experience a completely natural childbirth
-Learn organic farming
-Grow my own peonies
-Learn to play the violin/fiddle
-Play Irish folk music on said violin/fiddle
-Be in a musical
-Go on an African safari
-Teach abstinence education in sub-Saharan Africa
-Go hang-gliding
-Go white-water rafting
-Snorkel/scuba the great barrier reef
-Go to New Zealand
-Complete a "mud run"
-Join MENSA
-Swim in the Seven Sacred Pools in Maui
-Learn to surf
-Go to Scotland. Look for the Loch Ness Monster while there
-Stay in the Red Room at Castle Leslie in Ireland again
-Get a sleeper car on an over-night train ride
-Swim with wild dolphins
-See humpback and orca whales in the wild
-Swim with manatees
-Be a Weekie Watchie Mermaid

-See the Northern Lights
-Visit Victoria Falls
-See pink dolphins in the Amazon river
-Visit the Holy Land
-See Machu Picchu
-Visit the Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam, Holland
-Visit Auschwitz
-Visit the Lascaux Caves in southwestern France (this cave complex contains some of the most remarkable paleolithic cave paintings in the world)
-Go to Amish country
-Watch a volcano erupt
-Spend some time on an old-fashioned tall ship
-Live overseas for at least a year
-Chase a tornado
-Eat at the Hello Deli in NYC
-Visit the islands of Greece
-Go to Morocco
-Attend a wedding in India
-Become a travel writer
-Hike at least part of the Appalachian trail
-Cliff-dive off a waterfall
-Go hiking in Hawaii
-Camp on the beach
-Learn to Irish step dance
-Swim at a phosphorescent beach at night
-Attend a masquerade ball in Venice or Paris

And there is oh-so-much to be added to this list, so let's consider it "to be continued..."

Bucket List

2011-01-06T22:52:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year!

And woah nelly have I fallen off the blogging wagon this month! I guess the holidays were just too crazy. Crazy WONDERFUL that is! We got back Monday night around midnight after 11 EPIC (to use Ian's favorite word) days in Florida.

Christmas, family, sunshine, warmth, beaches, dancing, laughter, friends, late nights around the fire. Life seriously does not get much sweeter than that.

Needless to say, leaving was tough. It was a completely priceless trip.

New years bring new resolutions, and for me, they often involve completing items on my "bucket list," something I started compiling when I was about 12 years old. Over the years, I've added and removed items to fine-tune the excitement, but I still try to get at least one "big" item done a year, and as many "littler" items as possible. So far in 2011, I've already banged-out 3: Sing in a nightclub - check. Model for an art class - check. And spend lots of time dressed as a mythological sea creature - check. And I managed to complete all 3 in one evening, at Dr. Sketchy's Anti Art School. I've been attending the monthly sessions since we moved here, and I was SO excited to model for it! It ended up being just an absurdly good time.

More on bucket lists soon... until then, get to work sucking the marrow out of 2011. To life!

Afternoon transformation!

2010-11-28T21:29:00.001-05:00

Do you ever get in one of those insatiably crafty moods, when you just need to create or decorate something?? I was in one of those moods today. So I decided to give my bathroom a complete afternoon overhaul.

And by overhaul, I mean as much as I could accomplish in a rented apartment with a $20 budget!

Before:

Not horrifying, but pretty boring, pretty blah. Seriously in need of some pizazz. (And apparently new light bulbs.)

After:

The wall-art is from Target: $10 for a large sheet of re-positionable butterflies. I spray painted the basket a dark purple, and nabbed the hanging butterflies from another room of the house.

This is the same picture frame that was on the shelf before, just spray painted, embellished, and filled with a 50-cent piece of scrapbook paper. I also spray painted the candle holder.

Once again, framed scrapbook paper makes about the cheapest wall decor in the universe.

The candle sconce I already had in another room, I just painted it to match the plum-purple of all the other elements.

I painted the shelf and traded the white basket for a darker one I had laying around, adding the purple ribbon for extra color. The Taj I've had for ages, a gift from my BFF "because I read." ;) (Little inside joke there folks)

The lantern originally had plain glass panels, but I added some more of that fabulous scrapbook paper to make it more fun! The frame was $4 at Hobby Lobby.

Much less boring now, eh?

The back-splash needed some color, so I added, wait for it, more scrapbook paper! Love that stuff.

To add a really exotic feel, I added these lanterns from World Market on the curtain rod, for extra-relaxing tub soaks. They slide right over when the shower curtain needs to be closed.

Total items purchased:

-2 cans of purple spray paint
-4 sheets of scrapbook paper
-1 picture frame
-1 sheet of butterfly decals

Total cost: less than $20.

Total time spent: about 4 hours.

Not too shabby if I do say so myself!

What I really want to say is this...

2010-11-27T00:16:00.001-05:00

The plan was to write a sappy Thanksgiving post today, along with a syrupy birthday-recap and lots of pictures. In fact, it's already half written. And I'm sure I'll post it in the near future. But it's not really what I wanted to say tonight.

What I really want to say is...

Meet Jack.

Jack was a slave.

He lived right here, in Columbia, South Carolina.

He worked on the Hampton/Preston plantation.

He had a daughter.

And he was a registered member of the First Baptist Church.

This picture was taken in 1850. More than likely, these were the only photographs ever taken of Jack.

I wish I knew more about this man, but unfortunately, I don't. I don't know who he loved, or who he had to leave behind. I don't know what his thoughts and dreams were. I don't know how old he was, or when he died, or where he was buried. All I know is that we have walked on the very same streets, and that I have visited the plantation where he was forced into back-breaking labor for who knows how many years. We share the same city, Jack and I. We share the same faith in God. And we share the same humanity.

How at some point in the not-so-distant past human beings were treated and traded and worked like cattle is something I will never be able to comprehend. What dark years those were in the history of our nation. How one person could feel superior to another person strictly because of the color of their skin... I simply cannot wrap my mind around it.

So many African Americans today cannot trace their family histories back more than a few hundred years, as records for slaves were either loosely kept or not kept at all. Precious few pictures were taken. Even deaths were rarely recorded. And so countless family histories have been lost forever.

But they are not lost to God. Each of those precious people, who were stripped of their names, their dignity, and their humanity, were known intimately by their Heavenly Father - He who knew the very number of hairs on their heads. No, they were never forgotten by Him.

And so I will choose to remember Jack today. I will look at his kind, worn, and humble face and try to imagine the man he was when he walked the streets of Columbia in the 1800's. I will appreciate him for who he was - a child of God, created in His own image - and I will weep for him and the injustices that he endured.

Recipe time!

2010-11-14T23:11:00.000-05:00

(Photo courtesy of someone at the All Local Farmers Market, where I bought most of the fixin's for the soup)

So I invented a recipe this week, and not to toot my own horn, but it turned out delicious! I wanted to write it down so I don't forget it, and I figure, hey, why not share it with my friends in blog-world!

This soup is like spooning Autumn into your mouth; it's quick, easy, and loaded with nutrient-rich seasonal veggies.

Ingredients:

-3 cartons of organic, free-range chicken broth
-1 cooked rotisserie chicken
-1/2 an onion
-2 tablespoons minced garlic
-1 small butternut squash, peeled and diced
-1/2 of a large eggplant
-3 large carrots, peeled and chopped
-1 can great northern beans
-1 cup orzo
-Lotso' pepper and salt to taste
-A dash each of ginger and nutmeg
(I also threw in some finely chopped snow pea sprouts for color and yumminess, but those might be harder to find.)

Now I come from a family that makes chicken soup the old fashioned way; an entire chicken simmering in a pot allllllll day long to make the stock, noodles made from scratch, the works. And it's amazing. But sometimes I just don't have the time for all that mess yo!

Cheaters version? Buy chicken broth, bring to a boil, and throw a pre-cooked deli chicken, all your veggies, and some orzo in for about an hour. Done and done. And still delicious.

Into the wild...

2010-11-13T16:16:00.000-05:00

So I just finished reading this insanely amazing book by Aron Ralston. If the name doesn't ring a bell, he was that hiker who got trapped under a falling boulder in Utah in 2003, survived there for 6 days, and then eventually severed his own arm with a dull, off-brand multi tool to get free.

I just have two words for you: HARD CORE.

Here we have a ridiculously experienced outdoorsman (a mountain and river guide, member of an avalanche emergency rescue team, climbed almost every fourteener in Colorado. In the winter. Alone.) who managed to almost lose his life on what was supposed to be a relatively easy day trip in a canyon. Now I most definitely believe that everything happens for a reason, and so does Ralston, who now says that the incident was the turning point of his life, and that he wouldn't go back and change a thing because of the impact the experience had on his whole existence. However, I did learn alot from the book that I plan on putting into practice on all of my outdoor adventures.

1. When adventuring alone, tell someone where you're going. This was Ralston's almost-fatal mistake. The trip to Utah was a last-minute decision, he was traveling alone, and no one, not even his family or roommates, knew where he was going or when he'd be back. Because of this, no one even wondered where he was until he didn't show up to work several days into the ordeal. This is a mistake I've been guilty of many times myself, but no more! As a closet introvert, I love to go hiking and exploring by myself, and I frequently just don't think to mention to anyone where I'm headed or how long I plan to be gone. My husband hates it when I do this. But I am officially cured!

2. "Geologic Time Includes Now." Which is basically just an elegant way of saying, "Rocks still move. All the time." This is something I honestly have never given much thought to. They're rocks, right? Inherently stable. Immovable. Not always. Ironically, on my solo hiking trip today (yes, I told my husband where I was headed), I was just thinking about that quote when a very large rock I was using to transverse the river shifted under my feet and almost chucked me into the water. Recently, I was exploring a piece of forest that is famously full of ancient sandstone formations. There are warnings before you enter the hiking area not to get too close to the formations, as they are extremely unstable and may fall onto your head. At the time, I just laughed it off. Now, I'm taking it as gospel truth.

3. Be prepared. Luckily, I was a Girl Scout for 10 years, so this motto is basically tattooed onto my brain. But this incredible story reminded me to be even more diligent in packing enough gear for any eventuality when adventuring in remote territory. I'm lucky to have a good friend who is an avid survivalist who has gotten me to start carrying a pretty decent knife everywhere I go already. I also keep police-strength pepper spray on me even for everyday exploration (like say, going to work.) When hiking even on a quick day trip, I'm thinking a bare minimum of stuff to bring would be: more water than you think you'll need, high-energy, non-perishable food, a charged communication device (cell phone, satellite phone, walkie, etc.), a good knife, a flashlight, extra warm/water proof clothing, a hat, high-quality rope or paracord, and a first aid kit. It may seem like alot, but seriously, it's more than worth it if a real emergency presents itself.

4. Appreciate your loved ones, and let them know it often. One of the primary things Ralston did with his time during his entrapment was to record video messages of love for his family and friends to find after he was gone. Don't wait until the end to tell the people you love how you feel. Tell them right now. Today. Don't let another minute go by without verbally appreciating the people who mean everything to you. Go now, you can finish reading this entry when you're done :)

5. Never lose hope. One of the coolest moments of the book came toward the very end, when Ralston had finally resigned himself that his life was over. He was in the 5th night of his entrapment, severely dehydrated, starving, dangerously sleep deprived, and literally wasting away. It was at that moment that he knew the end was upon him. He even carved his name, birth date, and presumed death-date into the canyon wall.

But then he had a vision, a literal vision, that changed everything. He saw himself with a little boy, a blond toddler who he instinctively knew was his future son. In that vision, they were laughing and playing, and he picked up that little boy with one intact arm and a stump. They were happy. And he was alive. After that vision, hope had returned! In an intense rage of hope and fury, he amputated the arm that very morning and found rescue just hours later. Now, 7 years after the ordeal, Aron is married, and, you guessed it, has a beautiful 6 month old son. Never lose hope. It could very well save your life.

I would highly recommend checking out this book ASAP; it's completely engaging and inspiring. Until then, happy adventuring friends!

"Mundance"

2010-11-09T23:42:00.000-05:00

It's easy to find beauty and awe in the extraordinary things: a majestic mountain view, a vivid sunset, an ancient canyon, the infinite sea, or the fresh vista of a new country seen for the first time.

But how about the extra-ordinary things? You know, the stuff we experience on a daily basis, the mundane*, the routine, and the common miracles.

*When I first typed that, I accidentally wrote "mundance." Huh. Cool turn of phrase. Perhaps I will use this word when finding the "dance" in the everyday "mundane."

When was the last time you sank into your bed at night with thankfulness and delight? Reveling in the softness of the sheets, the warmth, the coziness, and the impending refreshment?

When you awake, notice the way the morning sun shines through your windows. The shocking blue of the Autumn sky on your way to work. The heavenly aroma of brewing coffee. The vibrant colors of the turning leaves.

What an extraordinarily beautiful world we live in.

I got to feel a much-loved and greatly-anticipated baby kick my hand tonight. My future nephew. I waited and waited for the little guy to move, and then POW! What a miracle. A whole new human life about to enter the world.

Let the scales of the everyday fall off your eyes; after that happens, it will be all you can do not to gasp in amazement every moment of every day.

Be entranced, be enchanted, and be amazed.

Enjoy the mundance ;)

Get it together.

2010-11-07T18:42:00.000-05:00

I have a confession to make.

I want to seem like I have it all together. All the time.

A home gleaming with Martha Stewart-esque perfection and creativity. Delicious, gourmet, organic meals direct from my kitchen every day. A workout routine that never slips from my daily schedule. Hair, skin, and clothes that always look put-together, fun, and chic. Spectacular performance at my full-time job, reaching record-breaking numbers of students every week. Daily quiet times in the Word that would make Mother Theresa jealous. Insanely brilliant writing/painting/dancing projects just pouring from my mind like an open faucet. And of course, the perfect marriage: minimal conflict + maximum oneness, intimacy, and fun.

But seriously, who wants to hang out with that girl?

It's funny how we so treasure transparency in others, but we rarely like to be vulnerable enough to show it in ourselves.

So here's some transparency for ya: up until about an hour ago, there were at least 4 loads of clean laundry stacked like the leaning tower of Piza on top of our drier, completely ignored and untouched for a week. Some nights I'm so worn out after work that my husband and I both just root through the fridge scavenger-style and fend for ourselves for dinner. I've barely made any headway at all on the choreography project I've been "working on" for a month. And on at least 2 occasions last week, the emotionally exhausting nature of my job drove me to tears.

I've always thought I was a very transparent person, but I learned otherwise after my visit to the hospital last week. My best friend was on her way to visit me from Alabama. We hadn't seen each other face-to-face in a year and a half, and she hadn't ever seen our new home, so I really wanted everything to be perfect. As myself and my husband were at the hospital all day, some of the clean-up just didn't get done. I arrived home from the hospital just minutes before she was supposed to arrive. The husband was out picking up food and prescriptions for me, so I had the place to myself. The laundry we had planned to do was still on the kitchen floor, there were dishes in the sink, and of course, I looked a'mess.

So did I just let those trivial things go, realizing that this was my best friend coming to visit and that she didn't care about all of that stuff??

Nope! Still feeling wretched, I did the dishes, the laundry, lit candles, arranged throw pillows, and put on lipstick and perfume at lightning speed before she walked in the door.

Seriously? There is something so completely wrong with this picture.

I just need to RELAX.

Sometimes, a few of the dozen balls I'm juggling get dropped. And guess what? It's no big deal! The world will not stop spinning because I am not personally turning the handle to make it go 'round. God is oh-so-much bigger than I am, and He's already got that covered.

Psalm 46:10
He says, “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”

So no, I don't have it all together. And neither do you.

And that is A-OK with me.

Want to come over for a cup of coffee in my messy kitchen? I won't even do the dishes before you show up!

A great, weird, and intense weekend.

2010-10-31T23:27:00.000-04:00

Happy (belated) Halloween!

(Can anyone else believe that it's November?? Where has this year gone??)

So to say the least, I had an interesting weekend. Let's kick it off in reverse and start with:

INTENSE.

Friday morning, I woke up feeling fabulous. My best friend was coming into town that evening and a weekend of epic-fun was about to commence. I needed to get to work a little early, so I whipped up my customary morning smoothie and took it with me in the car. Around 10am, I started to feel some pain in my side. No big deal; unpleasant, but bearable.

But as time went on, it got worse.

And worse.

And worse.

By 12pm, I was pacing back and forth in my office, crying and gasping for air. Clearly, something was very, very wrong. I finally filled my co-workers in on what was going on, and we called our Nurse Manager to get her thoughts. Her advice: get to a hospital. NOW.

This is not what I wanted to hear. I hate hospitals, needles, and the bills they incur. The whole bit. I managed to drive home, sobbing the whole way, in part because of the horrible pain, and in part because of the horrible timing of all this craziness. My thoughts, silly as they were, went something like this, "Oh my gosh, my best friend is on her way here from Alabama right now. We have ballet tickets for tonight. We're throwing a costume party tomorrow. I just can't have emergency surgery today!" When I finally made it home, my husband and mother-in-law met me there. By the time I had changed out of my work clothes, I could barely move. Immediately and at everyone's insistence, to the ER we went. Praise the Lord, the wait was almost non-existent. I was quickly triage-d in, and 6 needle jabs (done by 3 different nurses, all equally astonished by my horribly difficult veins, the last of which stated "this is going to hurt like h-e-double hockey sticks" before draining me from my wrist), 1 ultrasound, 1 saline IV, 5 hours, and what seemed like a gallon of taken blood later, they figured there was something fishy going on with my gallbladder. No stones, (praise God), and no emergency surgery was needed, but there is definitely somethin' shady going on in there. Basically, they told me to keep a close eye on my symptoms, gave me pain meds , and eventually sent me on my way with the warning that I might be back. So no surgery this weekend, but we may need to get rid of the little sucker* sometime in the indeterminate future. I'm feeling much better now, but the pain is still floating around, and I look like a heroine addict after being attacked by all of those nurses.

(*I'm thinking I need to name the thing, (my gallbladder), any ideas?)

GREAT.

After a year and a half apart, me and my bestie were finally reunited! It was magic: endless cups of coffee, long strolls and longer chats in the crisp fall air, a trip to the ballet, costumed shenanigans, and late-night laughter that went on until tears rolled and abs ached. It wasBFF-BLISS. And it went by way too quickly.

WEIRD.

So it's an annual tradition for my hubby and I to throw a masquerade party around this time every Autumn; this year was no exception, and we had a fabulous time. It is also a local tradition for a friend of mine, (an exceedingly eccentric millionaire with a house that rivals any Ripley's Believe It Or Not. Really.) to throw his own epic Halloween bash. Of course, as neither Kristi nor Hannah had ever been to this fabled house before, we simply had to make an appearance. The boys, the preggers, and all those under 21 decided to skip out, so the mermaid, Tinkerbell, and the hippie sallied forth into the night.

(BTW, driving with a tail, not so easy.)

The party did not disappoint; there were easily 200 people filling the mansion, with characters ranging from Frida Kahlo to Waldo to a guy wearing a garbage bag and "Summer's Eve" wrappers (you figure it out.) I took the girls on a tour of the wild and wonderful house, and after we'd made a circuit, said hello to some folks, and ran into world-famous performer Lady Chablis, we ended up out on the front lawn chatting in the fresh air.

Shortly thereafter, we heard some screaming coming from inside the house. We couldn't figure out what was going on, until the bouncer shoved (with some effort) a screaming woman out the front door and onto the sidewalk.

A screaming woman in a chicken suit.

A huge, fluffy, school-mascot style chicken suit.

Her exceptionally loud ranting went on for a good 10 minutes, and it went something like this:

"That effing guy effing sucker punched me in the effing face! He's dead! You're going to find his body tomorrow and have to effing scrape him off the street! Watch the news in the morning! He's effing DEAD! I'm in an effing chicken suit and he sucker punched me in the effing face!"

And so on and so forth. I think you get the gist. Clearly, this chicken was more than a few sheets to the wind. Moments after she stepped outside, a guy dressed as a Constable, (complete with giant handlebar mustache and night stick), came out to guard the front door. And when the chicken still hadn't calmed down after several minutes, The Lady Chablis even stepped in to try and get things under control with her charm and cat-o-nine-tails. Seriously. In the midst of the ranting, the chicken shouted the alleged offender's name more than once, and much to our amusement, a guy standing near us in a nascar uniform looked up with complete dead-pan shock and said, "oh man, that's the guy I came with."

We almost peed in our pants we were laughing so hard.

Seriously, you can't make stuff like this up.

So with that, I leave you with some highlights of our great, weird, and intense weekend. Happy November!

Adventure is out there!

2010-10-25T23:08:00.000-04:00

Right this second, I'm jammin' to "Dog Days Are Over" by Florence + The Machine, which basically makes me want to dance my way onto a bicycle in Bali, or to a wedding in India where flowers are raining down on my head.

(But maybe that's just because this song is in the trailer to "Eat, Pray, Love." Who knows.)

Regardless, travel is perhaps the single earthly thing that I assign the utmost value to. Travel and adventure. The only reason I would ever desire money would be so that I could wander freely and at will for the rest of my days all over this great blue ball of ours. Perhaps on a sailboat.

No, definitely on a sailboat. I am not a land creature; on or in the water is where I belong. I get the most incredible sleep if I'm on a boat. The smaller and wobblier, the better! It is one of my favorite bucket-list dreams to hop on a sailboat and sail "away from the things of man." (If you can name that movie quote, I will buy you a Starbucks. A drink, not a franchise.)

The things I will never get rid of are the things that have traveled with me and shared in my adventures. The capri pants I wore all around Ireland. The beach towel that came with me into the jungles of Belize. The yellow peasant top in which I explored Mayan ruins in Mexico. The suitcases that I got for my highschool graduation that have been on dozens of planes, visited at least 6 countries, gotten lost over the Atlantic, and still have my maiden name and parent's address scrawled on the back of them in black sharpie, lest they lose me mid-journey. They all carry the stamp of where they've been, like worn out old passports, giving them weight and history.

So the plan is to visit every continent, and innumerable destinations therein. To drink and taste and touch all of the vast riches that culture and history and people have to offer. To see it all with my own two eyes. To dance across the globe.

To swim in it.

To breathe it in.

To soak it up.

Life is too short to be ethnocentric. Life to too short to live small.

ADVENTURE IS OUT THERE!

GO.

Celebrations.

2010-10-13T21:42:00.000-04:00

Today was one of those days that was very fulfilling but extremely exhausting. I love the girls in my after-school clubs like crazy, but all of that middle and high school drama in large doses sometimes makes me feel like I've run a marathon by the end of the day.

Blessedly, I came home to a delightful gourmet meal whipped up by my priceless husband, (chicken piccata with angel hair pasta and steamed broccoli, in case you were wondering), a glass of cab-sav, and a steaming bath full of Mr. Bubble. (Why yes, I still buy Mr. Bubble.)

~Sigh~

Sometimes it's just the dailiness of life that gets ya, you know? Work, laundry, grocery shopping, toilet scrubbing, etc. etc. etc.

I'm not so good at the mundane things. When given the choice between, say, folding towels and doing something outdoors or creative, I will always choose the latter. I have this desperate need to live every last moment to the absolute max, to make the most of every second of my day, which often makes me feel like the mundane things are just not necessary.

But they are. Eventually, food needs to be purchased. Clean clothes run out. Toilets do need cleaning. But it's all about balance. I never want to be that mom who is so focused on a spotless house that I don't just chill out and have fun with my kids. I never want to have a living room so impeccable that little folks can't build a fort in it with cushions and sheets. I want my home to be welcoming and lived-in, not sterile and flawless.

Balance. That's the key. I'm workin' on it.

But there are those moments, those precious, luscious slices of life that are meant for absolutely nothing but pure, unhindered, free-flying, indulgent joy.

The celebrations.

This weekend is going to be chock-full of 'em. A wedding, a baby shower, and a birthday party. All overflowing with love. All celebrations of life. I'm pretty excited about it.

I could go to a wedding every single day of my life. I don't think I would ever get tired of them. It just never gets old for me. Something I'm really looking forward to? The glorious day in December when the bells will ring for these folks, two of my absolute favorite people in the whole wide world.

(No, they're not married yet. This was taken at the bridal shower. Yes, that is a mariachi band in the background.)

Think St. Augustine, The Pirate Haus hostel, my entire family, (all 80-or-so of them. Really.), and dancing til we drop in my blue-Cinderella-ball-gown bridesmaid dress. It will truly be a weekend to remember.

Celebrate everything. Even the littlest moments are worth some extra joy.

With that, I leave you with some pictures from our weekend at the ren-fast; good times.

Oh yes. That is indeed us riding a camel. What more could you ask for on a Saturday afternoon?

A Walk in the Woods

2010-10-03T20:09:00.000-04:00

When you feel relaxed, unwound, and rejuvenated on a Sunday night at 11:48pm, I would say that's a sign of a good weekend.

Some highlights, stream-of-consciousness style:

We kicked Friday night off with our first visit to Smoke, (home of the above colorful swine), a killer BBQ joint out in the country. We sat at an outside picnic table by the glow of Christmas lights, listening to great live folk music, rubbing our arms against the early October chill, and breathing deep the heavenly aroma of roasting BBQ. (Oh, and eating AMAZING food.)

After much heavenly shut-eye, Braden and I greeted the absolutely glorious weather by walking (European style) to Cafe' Strudel for brunch. We picked out a choice patio table and downed many cups of coffee as we attempted to refine my (very poor) skills at chess.

We also managed to squeeze in some pizza and QT with this fine-lookin' couple.

And today I took a solo-trip to My Favorite Spot.

Want to take a gander?

These beautiful ruins of a Revolutionary War era textile mill are found right off the trail.

My spot is located deep in the woods by the Saluda river. It takes a little bit of hiking off the beaten path to get to it, and not once have I seen another soul there.

When the river's low enough, (like today), it's easy to hop across these rocks to the little island.

Once across, I climb over a fallen tree and pick out a suitable rock from which to take in the splendor.

The best time to come is in the late afternoon, when the sunlight slants through the trees just right, dappling the water and the leaves with sparkling gold light. Enjoy!

Happy weekend!

2010-10-02T01:00:00.000-04:00

Lately, we've been making a sincere effort to be extra-frugal in our everyday lives, which means cutting down on more frivolous expenses. Such as $4 cups of coffee.

But I knew today was going to be an extremely nutty day at work, so, in that moment, an iced venti caramel macchiato seemed like more of a necessity than a luxury.

Not to be irresponsible, I scoured the house for quarters and dimes and gathered exactly enough change for my caffeinated beverage of choice. In an effort to avoid scattering said change about my purse, I inexplicably wrapped the bundle in Press-&-Seal.

Fast-forward to me waiting in line at Starbucks with a wad of bundled up plastic wrap in my hands. Struggling to find an edge, some measure of give, anything to free my precious change, I darted my eyes around to see who was staring at this clearly cheap, possibly homeless, definitely insane customer. Eventually, I just gave in and tore the plastic open, unsticking coins from the Press-&-Seal's ferocious grip one-by-one, even as I placed my order. Luckily, the barrista was cheerful and not at all offended by my apologetic use of spare change. And the coffee was delightful.

Oh the things we do in the name of frugality!

On that note, I leave you with this to usher in your weekend. You have my express permission to laugh at me. I will not be offended.

Cloud chaser.

2010-09-30T21:46:00.001-04:00

Aren't you just loving this perfect Fall weather??

Tonight, I needed some broccoli, so I decided to breathe deep the air and stroll over to Bi-Lo instead of driving. Ipod-in-ears, I set off, jammin', and trying to walk and dance at the same time.

Mid head-bob, I saw the most absolutely breathtaking sky, so I bypassed Bi-Lo and kept walking, trying to get the best view I could of the clouds. I soon found myself on the stone steps of a church a few block from my house, leaning back on my elbows and trying to drink it all in.

The clouds were the warmest, most perfect shade of gold I've ever seen, set strikingly against a Santorini-blue backdrop of sky. Birds swooped and fluttered, perfect black silhouettes in the fading light, and the clouds moved so fast that it felt like the earth was spinning out of control. It was completely magical - what I would imagine to be a little glimpse of heaven.

And there were all of these people driving by in their cars. Talking on their cell phones. And they never even looked up. Here there was this completely, completely glorious sky to behold, free for the taking, a gift.

And they didn't even notice.

If I could sum up my multi-page bucket list, my values, my goals, and my dreams into just one simple task, it would be to always, constantly, purposefully, and passionately be AWAKE.

I don't want to sleep through one priceless second of this precious gift of life. I don't want to spend my days on auto-pilot. Going through the motions. Getting by. Getting through.

NO.

That's a fate worse than death. And just think: countless people choose that fate for themselves every. single. day.

Our days are to be savored, like a luscious and complex glass of wine. Pick out the individual flavors and fragrances. Get in there and seek out the beautiful details. Let it saturate your tongue and slide down your throat. Feel its lasting warmth. Drink it up.

Don't sleepwalk through your life. Open your eyes. There is indescribable beauty everywhere. SEE like you'll be blind tomorrow. Smell the sweetness in the air, the apples in the grocery store, and yes, the roses. There is magic everywhere you look, if you look for it.

So does all of that mean that I'm happy as a clam every minute? That I grit my teeth and plaster on a smile no matter what's going on in my life? No way Jose'. I'm pretty much one big walking emotion. I cry at hallmark commercials. Fake is not awake. So far, I've learned that being truly awake means being truly real.

Yeah, sometimes things totally suck. Sometimes I have no idea what God is doing. Sometimes I just want to curl up in bed and cry and never come out again.

But none of that ever changes the fact that life is beautiful. A gift. And that we, you and I, are here, right where we are this very second, for a reason, (even when it sucks.)

So no matter where you are right now, don't waste another second. Consider this your alarm clock.

WAKE UP.

Dance dance.

2010-09-29T23:31:00.001-04:00

So dancing is just about my favorite thing to do in the whole wide world.

I am one of those folks with an exceptionally over-active imagination, so sometimes being stuck in my own head can be an exhausting experience; so far, dance is the only activity I've ever found that can shut my mind up and allow me to just "be."

In case you were wondering, I'm no ballerina. Hip-hop is the only language I speak. I started taking classes when I was about 15, and fell madly, completely, head-over-heels in love. I was on a dance team shortly thereafter, and eventually became a company member at a hip-hop studio, performing competitively and dancing every day of the week. I even got to perform in the Orange Bowl halftime show. I loved every second of it. And I miss the formal training like crazy.

I still dance constantly on my own, but I really wish I had great classes to go to. My biggest weakness in dance is choreography - I can learn anything you throw at me, and fast, but trying to come up with my own moves for an entire song?

Yikes. I totally stink.

So in a challenge to myself, I've started (today) seriously choreographing for the first time in my life. I mentioned in a previous post that I'll be modeling for Dr. Sketchy's, an alternative art school, in November. Basically, I get to sit around wearing amazing costumes and people draw me for a few hours. I'm pretty excited about it. Traditionally, part of the evening includes some kind of entertainment from the night's model, so I am dusting off my performing shoes and getting ready to dance like no one's watching.

True confession: in all my years of dance, I have never performed solo in front of a crowd. In groups, absolutely. Solo, not even once. So I'm really nervous, especially since it will be with my own choreography (which I'm deeply suspicious might totally suck.) But today, I found a song that stirs me up so much that I've been poppin' and lockin' in my car (while driving) all day long. It makes me want to move so badly that it gives me chills - which I think is a sign that it's the perfect performance song. Where will it take me? No one can tell... ;)

A day of rest.

2010-09-26T23:13:00.000-04:00

Today was a good day.

First off, the weather has been rainy and breezy and FABULOUS all day long.

It's 70 degrees outside and I am currently basking in the cool Autumn wind from my cozy sleigh bed. Bliss.

We tried a new church this morning with a gaggle of friends and really, really liked it. We felt super welcome, and the worship was smokin'.

We then proceeded to kidnap two more friends from their home (one of whom was still in her pajamas - not naming any names of course...) and dragged them off to brunch, which was a heavenly affair. I wish I'd had the camera with me. We filled up a long outdoor cafe table like a giant, jolly Italian family and drank great coffee and ate french toast and talked about the places we wanted to visit and the adventures we've had and yet to have. All while enjoying the overcast skies and fresh breezes. Together. My family-of-friends.

A quick power-nap with the husband later, and me and the girls were walking the Lake Murray dam in the pouring rain, chatting about life and love and babies, not minding one bit that we were sopping wet.

So many beautiful, exciting things are coming up soon for so many of the people I love. It makes me just want to skip!

For example, this beautiful momma-to-be and her munchkin (he's in the belly):

I can't wait to meet this little fella and be his Auntie come January!

I'm also pretty excited about modeling for this:

...as a mermaid. Oh yes, you heard me right. November 3rd ladies and gents - don't miss out!

And on a completely different note, don't you just think that the world would be a better place if boys dressed like this all the time?

Yeah, I thought you'd agree.

Enjoying the lazy-Sunday-things :)

Happy Fall!

2010-09-26T00:04:00.000-04:00

Happy first-day-of-fall! (Two days late, I know, but who can come to a party on a Thursday?)

There were pumpkins. And caramel apples.

And beautiful pregnant ladies.

And heated debates.

And laughter.

And girlfriends packed into the bathroom for a mini-photo shoot.

And twirling.

And cheesy self-portraits.

It was Autumn, and incessant piped the quails from shocks and sheaves, And, like living coals, the apples burned among the withering leaves. ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Enjoying the glories of the season... :)

What I really want to say is this...

2010-09-23T22:45:00.000-04:00

So first of all, I had big plans last night.

I was going to bake all the pies for today's party. (Pumpkin and apple, if you were wondering.) I was going to make the caramel apples. I was going to hand address all of the invitations to my friend's baby shower. I was going to watch a movie with my husband. I was even going to go check out the new Alternacirque show.

Instead, I fell dead asleep, in my clothes, at 9:45.

And proceeded to sleep for almost 13 hours.

I guess I needed that. Badly.

For those of you who don't know, I work in the non-profit sector in a deeply fulfilling, but also frequently stressful and emotionally draining job. This week has been a doozy. Plus, our huge annual fundraising event is just over a week away, making these the official "most crazy days of the year."

So am I currently running around the house like a mad woman, baking and cleaning and just throwing up an overall fuss getting ready for the party? Well clearly not, as I am obviously sitting around writing. I'm actually at my favorite table at Cafe Strudel, (the one that's made out of an antique sewing table and overlooks the city skyline just right), nursing a bowl of fruit and a steaming mug of sticky bun coffee. (Today's mug: "Top Ten Reasons Why You're The Boss.")

Eh, it'll get done.

So on a completely different note, the reason I'm writing three (yes, three) completely different books right now is that I easily become stagnant.

I get hit with bushels full of literary inspiration one day, only to run dry the next. This is why I decided to divide my time between different projects, to give the brain something fresh to muddle about in.

I recently came upon this in an entry of my favorite blog in the world (www.kellehampton.com) and it really struck a cord with me. It's from Natalie Goldberg's Old Friends From Far Away: the Practice of Writing a Memoir:

"often in the middle of a timed writing practice, you feel muddled. you're not really saying anything. so try this: don't ever wait to finish your sentence. right in the middle, put a dash...then write 'what i really want to say is this'...drop to a deeper level and keep going..."

So what I really want to say is this -

-My grandmother is a total rockstar. I want to write a whole big entry all about her very soon.

-I have a really, really good husband. He puts up with all manner of crazy shenanigans from me with a level of grace I just can't believe.

-It's 90 degrees out for our First Day of Fall party, and I am so completely cool with that. Hopefully it means a nice, toasty winter is on its way.

-There's a girl standing by the coffee pot with a riot if curly red hair and a ton of wild flowers sticking out of her canvas tote bag. I feel like we should be friends.

-This morning I literally rolled out of bed, threw on clothes, grabbed my laptop, and headed to Cafe Strudel. No hair brush. No toothbrush. No makeup. Hopefully I'm not scaring the villagers.

-There are the most beautiful little bits of dandelion fluff floating all around in the air today. It's making the world look really magical.

Ok, well the party officially starts in five and a half hours, so I best actually good get some stuff done. Happy Saturday and happy Autumn!

A bit macabre.

2010-09-22T21:17:00.000-04:00

So I kinda have this thing for old cemeteries.

I've loved to visit them since I was a kid, which is a bit surprising even to myself, first-rate fraidy-cat that I am. I love the history. I love the peaceful quiet. But most of all, I love the stories.

To get to read someone's name, age, and epitaph feels like such an privilege.

I, I, get to stop and consider the life and story of another human being. Perhaps even one who lived 200 years before me. Someone who laughed and cried and loved and worried. Someone who's family laid them to rest at the very same spot I now stand. I ache to know who they really were, what their legacy was, and so I try to do them the honor of at least attempting to figure them out. I study the words, who wrote them, the relationships, and the level of elaborate decoration (or lack thereof), and try to piece together a picture in my mind: How did they live their lives? With passion, or with regret? What were their dreams? Who did they love? And who loved them in return?

I guess I love it because that's exactly what I want people to do for me someday. I want people to visit my grave long after I'm gone, perhaps centuries later, and I want them to wonder about me - to remember me.

Strangely, one of my worst fears is to be forgotten - to pass out of this life and into the arms of God without having made a lasting mark on the world. And so that is my goal: to leave a mark. To leave a legacy. To love passionately. To live fiercely. To seize every opportunity. To live and love with no regrets.

As a writer, I feel like my final epitaph is really one of the most important things I'll ever write, so I'm trying very hard (even now) to come up with the absolute perfect thing. But how do you conjure up a handful of words that completely defines you as a person and the nature and meaning of your life in its entirety?

Yeah. Exactly.

So I'm still working on it. I only know that I want the words I leave behind to live on, to bring hope, and to inspire. And maybe even to make people laugh...

Because life is just too much of a riot to take too seriously all the time - even after death ;)

Enchanting adventures.

2010-09-19T13:29:00.000-04:00

(This blog post brought to you from one of my favorite spots in Cafe' Strudel - sticky bun coffee in-hand, in a souvenir mug that says "Larry")

Because I have the coolest friends in the world, we often make extremely spontaneous plans to hit the road and find somewhere new and exciting to explore. So about 3:00pm Friday, after much deliberation from multiple parties via text-message, (Charleston? No, been there, done that. Hilton Head? Eh, too many tourists. How 'bout Savannah? Ah, now there's an idea!), the next day's adventure started to take shape. The boys took their motorcycles while the ladies cruised South in air conditioned comfort - Savannah or bust.

And I was completely, completely enchanted.

I've always had a soft spot for rambling historical towns, (St. Augustine, for example, is my favorite city in the US), so I expected to like the place, but this was different.

Savannah was magical.

Slow. Easy. Kissed with river breezes. Covered in ancient oak trees dripping with Spanish moss. Filled to the brim with arresting architecture and shady squares that just beg for lingering. And not completely mobbed with tourists!

We didn't rush, (rising early on Saturday mornings is rarely how I roll), so we didn't even hit the road till 11am, leaving us with a golden, sun-drenched afternoon to savor in one of the South's most haunting cities.

We started the day with a picnic in Reynold's Square - my husband put together the most fabulous spread of gourmet picnic fare - and we just melted into the day. There's nothing like good friends on a picnic blanket in a beautiful park. Plus, they were setting up for a wedding right beside our spot, which is always exciting to me. (We saw at least four different weddings over the course of the afternoon alone.)

We didn't take any pricey tours, ride any trolleys, or really do much of anything the average tourist does in Savannah.

We did, however, wander the moss-hung streets and parks for hours and hours, basking in patches of golden sunshine, taking in the history and magic of the city, exploring old cemeteries, taking pictures, talking and laughing.

We watched the sun go down on a swaying dock in the shadow of enormous shipping vessels and a real riverboat (my first sighting outside Disney World), to the sound of a lone trombone player.

We ended the night with spectacular Thai and Vietnamese food at Saigon, and then put the icing on the cake with utterly heavenly lavender ice cream from Leopold's.

If you haven't ever been to Savannah, you should definitely make the trip. I know we'll be back!

An unexpected sniff.

2010-09-15T22:56:00.000-04:00

Do you ever catch a whiff of something and find yourself instantly transported to a different place and time?

I love that feeling.

The sense of smell is one of my absolute favorite senses - mostly for this very reason. I love how the scent of cedar wood brings me right back to beach house vacations in the Outer Banks.

And how barbecue smoke reminds me of singing songs by "The Monkeys" at the top of my lungs in my backyard on balmy Sunday evenings.

The scent of lilacs always gives me fluttery feelings in the bottom of my stomach, as it was the fragrance I wore on mine and Braden's trip to St. Augustine when we first were dating, and again on our wedding day.

But one of my absolute favorites is the rare whiff of a fresh peony, which transports me directly back to my wedding day and honeymoon; I carried peonies in my bouquet, and then Braden bought me a glorious bunch at a flower market in Ireland. Any time I encounter a peony, I sniff it for all it's worth! (Almost to the point of getting petals up my nose.)

Anyway, all of that to say, I had one of those fabulous, unexpected, transporting experiences tonight. I was out on my run/walk, chasing the last luscious beams of golden sunlight, when I came upon a gardenia bush. Oh gardenias! Instantly, I was in my parents' Florida backyard again, plucking armful after armful of blossoms to stuff into vases, string into chains, and grind into potpourri. I would float the perfect, milky blooms in my kiddie pool, tuck them behind my ear, and eventually, pin them into my hair for my senior prom. Oh gardenias - what a treat! It was like being home again.

So, continuing from yesterday, on to incredible blessing #2...

2. Friends who are family, and family who are friends.

Honestly, in this life, can you really ask for anything more? What an astonishingly rare thing to count every member of my precious family as one of my dearest, most treasured friends.

My dad is one of the smartest, funniest, most loving guys on the planet. He adores his family with every fiber of his being, and prioritizes them above all else. Since the day I was born, he has never made me feel anything but beautiful, smart, and completely loved. He was that dad who would put on a three piece suit and have a tea party with my four-year-old self on Little Tykes chairs in the kitchen. And he's still completely, totally, head-over-heels in love with my mom.

My mom is one of those truly indescribable women. If you looked in the dictionary under "Super Mom," you would find her smiling face staring right back at ya. She's the kind of woman who in an afternoon can chainsaw down a tree, mow the lawn, bake six dozen cookies, cook a fabulous dinner, catch up with friends, help with homework, and look hot doing it! She's that mom who celebrates every occasion with pomp and flair, who wakes you up on your birthday with candle-festooned muffins and song, and who would stay up all night patiently listening to her whiny teenage daughter prattle on and on and on about boys and friends and other silly high school drama. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Second only to my husband, she's my best friend in the world.

And my brothers! Oh what delightful gems of brothers I have!

Chris is, without question, the funniest person I know. He is fiercely loyal, an incredible friend, and a complete sugar-muffin under his 6'4 "tough guy" facade. He was taking apart motorized vehicles and welding them back together into something new and incredible in elementary school. And this guy is one day going to be the world's greatest husband to an insanely lucky woman. Oh how I miss our late-night drives down the island with the windows down and music blaring! (Oh wait, we just got to do that last week!)

Ian is, for lack of a better descriptor, my mini-me in almost every imaginable way. Since we're 15 years apart in age, I got to play the delicious role of "second mommy" when he was born, forever cementing our very special bond. He, like me, has red hair, green eyes, and a massive affinity for all things creative. He is already such a talented artist and writer, even at 9 years old. He's also scary-smart, never ceasing to blow me away with the things he says and comes up with. He's amazing.

This is a little slice of my life, and it tastes sweeter than homemade pumpkin pie :) I am a very blessed girl, I am indeed.

"I think it was a combination of kiwis and stress."

2010-09-14T21:24:00.000-04:00

Today was a weird day. Kicked off by a very surprising intolerance to something I've always loved: kiwis.

After years of eating these delicious green gems almost daily, my body has decided to completely rebel against them. Now, within minutes of ingestion, I am crippled with unbearable stomach pain unlike anything I've ever experienced.

Which is exactly what happened this morning. Which is why I didn't make it in to work until 1:00pm.

Combined with the hefty (understatement) dose of personal stress that was also ladled upon us this morning, let's just say that the day got off to a rough start.

But now, the day is drawing to a close. I'm sitting on my back porch surrounded by candles, incense, and moonlight. Crickets are serenading me with an exceptionally enthusiastic chorus, and the air is the absolute perfect temperature for lingering. Even though today had its share of uncertainty and tears, all I can see now are the incredible blessings that God has absolutely lavished onto my life.

1. The man of my dreams.

Not to delve too deep into "sap" territory, but I have, unequivocally, the most incredible husband in the world. I managed to land a man who is strong, tender, loving, and hilarious. He is kind. He is creative. He is romantic. And he is brilliant. This is the guy who reads Dostoevsky, Rand, and ancient philosophy on the beach. This is the guy who can seek out the one person in the crowd who feels out of place, the one who no one else wants to talk to, and make them feel like a million dollars. This is the guy who turns into a little kid around animals (who also happen to love him relentlessly in return.) This is the guy who will cuddle for hours, talking and laughing and just being together. He loves to cook. He loves to organize. And he tells me how beautiful he thinks I am every single day.

Basically, he's a complete rockstar.

Yesterday marked six years since the day we met. The moment I laid eyes on him, the words "The One" flashed through my mind. (True story.) Since then, my life has never been the same.

...More blessings to come tomorrow, as I am sleepy and could be at this for hours :)

Autumn is in the air...

2010-09-13T11:09:00.000-04:00

It's almost here, just around the corner. I can feel the change in the evening air, smell it in the morning sunshine. It makes me want to give someone a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils. Fall will be here in a matter of days!

Yesterday was the first of the season that we left the windows open all day. It's still a little warm, but the air is just delightful. We lit candles and grilled piles of fresh seafood and peeled hot shrimp out of their shells with sticky fingers in the evening breeze. Blissful.

Fall used to be, hands down, my absolute favorite season. As a Florida girl to-the-bone, growing up I got a real kick out of celebrating the slight change in temperature Autumn would eventually bring. It was (is) a Sandel family tradition to host a swingin' First Day of Fall party every year, complete with cinnamon delights, caramel apples, a roaring fire, fake leaves, and pumpkin everything. (My uber-party-tolerant husband has been kind enough to adopt all of my crazy family traditions himself. Be on the lookout for this year's invitation.) Don't get me wrong, I still ADORE Fall - I can't get enough of the sunset leaves, the crisp breezes, the smells of cinnamon and apples, piles of pumpkins...I could go on and on!

But I hate,

HATE I SAY

Winter.

I hate being cold. I hate having to put on a bazillion layers before going outside (and then taking them off again the instant I reach my destination.) I hate having to trap my Floridian feet in socks and boots for months at a time. I hate that I can't just wear shorts and a tank top to go get the mail. I hate ice. I hate that if I leave a bottle of water in my car overnight it will be FROZEN in the morning. And I HATE that I can't go swimming outside for at least 3 months!

Now before you make fun of me because I live in South Carolina and not, say, Ontario, cut me some slack. The me of two years ago moved to SC without having ever owned a coat, boots, or even a real pair of closed-toe shoes. I was accustomed to going to the beach on Christmas day. I had never even seen snow, and I had most certainly never scraped ice off a car windshield. My blood is as thin as it comes people. Anyway, just knowing that Fall is a predecessor to Winter makes me sad. So let's spend some time focusing on everything I'm super excited about this season!

1. "Thrill the World 2010"

Can we say, thousands of people all over the world dancing Thriller at the exact same moment? Oh yeah. Be there or be square kids.

2. The Carolina Renaissance Festival

Costumes, fairies, jousting, wandering minstrels, and elephant rides? Sign me up for that!

3. PUMPKINS!

4. Dracula: The Ballet

Best. Ballet. Ever.
Think Twilight meets Swan Lake meets Micheal Jackson.
Fabulous.

5. "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" on the Congaree river

Nothing can top sitting outside in the crisp Autumn air with a thermos of Mexican hot chocolate, a cozy blanket, and the sound of galloping hoof-beats bearing a real headless horseman charging down the Gervais Street Riverwalk!

And last but most certainly not least,

6. Some much needed quality time with this hottie!

How is it possible that the last time I saw my bestie face-to-face was the day this picture was taken? Over a year ago! After growing up 5 minutes apart in our South Florida town, we now have husbands and jobs and live in different states - we still talk every single day, which helps, but nothing beats a Halloween weekend with my best girl! Can we say, costume coordination? Oh yes. Yes we can.

Bring it on Fall ;)

Highlight Reel

2010-09-12T23:25:00.000-04:00

Summer, you have been amazing. Growing up in Florida, I had little appreciation for the glory that is you: the warmest, sunniest, outdoorsiest season of the year. Now, I think i've learned to fully savor all of your seasonal specialness.

Some of the highlights:

1. Beach days.

The gals and I, (and baby Bonam, a bun in the oven on the far right), took a spontaneous day trip to Charleston and had an absolute ball. We swam in the bath-warm water, stretched out in the sand, read great books, and topped it all off with a spectacular roof-top dinner and hours of moon-lit girl talk on the Battery (and plenty of junk food and great music for the very, very late drive home.)

2. Mountains.

Braden planned a surprise trip for us for our 4th wedding anniversary and took me here:

Glorious.

During our mountain exploration, I decided to brave the icy mountain waters and fulfill a childhood dream by sliding down Sliding Rock. Braden voted for taking pictures from the overlook, rather than taking the plunge. Can you tell it's chilly?

We had a lovely anniversary dinner at Twigs in Blowing Rock. The waitress was kind enough to take a picture to prove we were actually on the trip together.

Just a run-of-the-mill view from the Blueridge Parkway. You know, no biggie.

A not-so-windy Blowing Rock. (Which is probably a good thing, considering my treacherous perch.)

Oh I love that man.

3. Waterfalls and family.

My precious fam came to visit for the 4th of July. Since my mom has been tragically mountain-starved since moving to South Florida 28 years ago, we just had to make a day trip. This is Looking Glass Falls, (before Ian and I jumped in for a swim.)

Gotta love my trusty Five Fingers.

Ian's first time seeing mountains in all his 9 years!

4. I got to be a mermaid.

'Nough said.

5. THE GOO GOO DOLLS!

Fabulous weather, fabulous music, fabulous ladies. Me and my girl Jubilee made the drive to Charlotte on a weeknight for all of this fabulousness. Was I tired the next day at work? Absolutely. Was it totally worth it? You know it!

6. Going home.

Braden and I made the 8 hour drive back home to So-Flo for Labor Day weekend. It was magic. We went to the beach every day. And of course, my gorgeous mom and I got in some serious gab-time over Dunkin Donuts coffee.

On our last morning there, we made one last stop at the beach. It was impromptu, so I didn't have my swimsuit with me. This is me taking a dip in my clothes.

7. Sunrises over the Atlantic.

Morning starlight. Dolphins. Pink clouds. Dancing sandpipers. 10,000 no-see-um bites.

Priceless.

A fresh start.

2010-09-11T22:44:00.000-04:00

I started this blog about a year ago with the very best intentions.

Clearly, I've fallen off the wagon.

But now it's time for a fresh start.

I really want to get back in the habit of regularly posting my random scribblings regarding the world at large on the interwebs - especially since I narrate every moment of my life in my head as if I were living in a novel anyway. Sign of insanity? Possibly. But I'm hoping it's a common trait of those of us with a creative bent.

A few things:

1. I've decided that I get to live on the coolest street in Columbia. (State Street that is, in case you were wondering.) We're a moment's drive away from downtown, but surrounded by woods so it always feels so quiet and peaceful. Walking distance from the river, a grocery store, Cafe' Strudel (more on that gloriousness in a moment), and now a brand-new, super funky tea bar. Plus the whole property we live on is just swimming in cool history, gorgeous old buildings, and even some ghost stories. If there's a more awesome place to live in Cola, I have not yet seen it.

2. Cafe' Studel. ~Groan of delight~ Those of you who know me and my hubs know it's our very favorite weekend ritual to eat a spectacular, lazy, lingering brunch at Cafe' Strudel while sipping bottomless cups of the best coffee I've ever tasted. (Preferably out of the most amusing mug presently available.) It's like eating at home. You seat yourself, and the coffee bar is self-serve, so you can just stroll in like you own the place, pour yourself a steaming cup, (try the "sticky bun"), and then find your favorite table to linger at for as long as you please. I dig the upstairs window table with the perfect view of the city skyline. Today, the husband was out working on a motorcycle, so I did brunch solo. Cinnamon pancakes, fresh-roasted coffee, and an issue of Conde Nast Traveler. Bliss.

P.S. I'll be needing to go here as soon as possible:

Have you heard of the Andaman Islands off the coast of India? Neither had I. Apparently, this fine, friendly elephant lives on the beach of one of these gloriously exotic dots on the map, and spends his days eating bananas and swimming in the crystal-clear water. If you visit, you can go for a swim with him! (Adding that to my bucket list right now.)

3. This summer has been amazing. And way too short. Is it seriously September? Details to come in my next entry.

I leave you with this: some of my goals for the rest of 2010! I'm hoping that by making them known to you all, my friends in the blogosphere, I will be forced to complete them for fear of public shame.

-Blog weekly, at least.

-Finish at least one of my writing projects and start submitting them to publishers.

-Learn how to use my husband's awesome camera and start doing some photojournalism.

-Finish that painting that's been sitting on the easel in my living room for weeks.

-Go kayaking a few times while the weather's still warm.

-Take one last beach trip with the girls before fall sets in.

-Get some more hours in learning to drive the motorcycle.

-Organize the top of my dresser.

...More to come ;)

(Update as of 9/12/10: Dresser is organized! Those of you who know me know how absolutely stunning it is that I managed to tackle that first. Be proud.)

24

2009-11-22T23:40:00.000-05:00

On the eve of my 24th birthday, I found myself listening to Switchfoot's "twenty-four" in the car on my way home. It's 37 degrees outside and raining; the kind of day that makes you want to just curl up in bed. Against all sanity, I decided to go hiking in it. I bundled up as best I could (which ended up being rather poorly) and set out for one of my favorite trails. On the steep descent down the first hill, I noticed the dead and brittle blossoms of queen anne's lace lining the trail as the cold wind blew a torrent of fiery-colored leaves around my feet. Just a few short months ago, I climbed this very same hill after a swim in the river surrounded by an abundance of freshly-blossomed queen anne's lace, hummingbirds, and the oppressive heat of the burning summer sun. The newly-bare forest offered little protection against the rain and the fallen leaves paved a thick carpet before me. Seasons are a new experience for me. Upon reaching my favorite place near the water, I found the river higher than I'd ever seen it before. A good four feet above average. The rocks I usually hopped across to reach my little island were completely submerged, and the ravages of a recent flood showed in the downed branches, trees, and ruined grass. I felt a stab of sadness at the change of my favorite place. Usually it is a place of constancy for me, where I can sit on a rock in the middle of the raging waters and feel completely at peace. This summer I came here often to swim, wade, and lounge on the rocks like a mermaid in the sun. I love to talk to God here. And now it has changed. Temporarily, perhaps, but still so different. I'm bad with change. In fact, I think that I was unintentionally raised to repel it. For the first 23 years of my life, I lived in south Florida. A place completely without seasons. Without any notable natural change. Green and warm, all year long. The ocean moves in its completely predictable tides and patterns, and there's never a time when everything is dead and gray. For the first 20 years of my life, I lived in the same house. In the same bedroom. With the same decals on the windows and glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling that had been there since I was 6. I never moved in my life until I got married, and even then, I was only 15 minutes away. The tolerance for change was literally bred out of me.

And now here I am, coming to the end of the biggest year of change in my life so far. And I am okay. So much more than okay.

I now live in South Carolina, over 500 miles away from my precious family. I came from the land of palm trees, beach bums, and endless summers to a world full of cold weather, football, and thick southern accents. I have an amazing husband, a college degree, and a fantastic job. I'm a grown-up now. When did that happen? It's something we dreamed about as kids; Karis and I would sit on my window seat in elementary school and pretend we were college roommates dealing with some drama or another.

And here we are now. 24. It sounds so much older, so much more mature. 23 year olds can still be foolish college kids, but 24, 24 is the the time to settle down, to grow up. In 9 minutes, that's where I'll be.

Praise God! It's been a wild ride so far, and I can't wait to see what comes next... ;)

My phone booth

2009-10-25T01:14:00.000-04:00

To say that I'm not a morning person would be like saying the cast of Mad Men is a hair overindulgent. I see the sunrise maybe once a year. Usually on Easter. I function at my peak with 9-10 hours of sleep, (not that that ever actually happens), and I am a textbook night owl. Though I am blessed enough to have a job that doesn't start until 10am, (and is only a 10 minute drive away at that), I still have to force myself out of bed when the alarm starts singing at 8:45. (Yeah yeah, I know. Pathetic. I know. Save your comments.) So very often, I'll set my alarm for the last possible second and proceed to primarily get ready for my day in my car. I'm kinda like Superman and my '96 Toyota Camry is my phone booth. Many weekdays, I enter my car as a mousy "Clark Kent:" with hair in a terribly unflattering bun, not a stitch of makeup, and often not even wearing shoes. Really. It's that bad. But you must understand, this is were the magic begins. During my 10-12 minute commute, (depending on - A. Traffic B. "Millers"* and C. Unnecessary Construction), makeup is artfully applied at red lights, a strategic shoe selection might be made (there is often more than one pair of shoes in my car at any given moment), and finally, as the piece de resistance, my incredibly long hair is shaken out of it's school-marm bun cheesy-teen-makeover-movie style, leaving me with a lusciously wavy mane. By the time I step into the parking lot in front of my office, the transformation is complete. Lowly Clark is now an unthinkably glamorous and put-together Superman, and I am ready for my day. (With as much sleep under my belt as possible.)

*Millers: the slang term I've coined to define the absolutely inordinate amount of jaywalking pedestrians that constantly crowd the streets of Columbia like post-apocolyptic cockroaches.

River Caste

2009-09-16T23:53:00.000-04:00

Since moving to South Carolina, I've spent a great deal of time on and in our many lovely rivers. Because there are no beaches in the immediate vicinity, the rivers are generally the refreshing venue of choice for Columbians of all shapes and sizes during the toastier months, and I have come up with my own little (somewhat less than scientific) "class system" for river folk based on the nature of their watery activities. And so I give you, in decending order of awesome-ness, Kimberly's River Caste System:

1. At the top of the food chain are the most hard-core river goers of all: the white-water kayakers. Sun-worn, well muscled, and donning very intimidating helmetry, you know these guys mean business. Once, I even saw one guy with paddles for hands doing underwater flips and barrel rolls near the rapids. These are the ones all true river folk aspire to be.

2. Just slightly below the white-water guys (but still hard-core) are your river kayakers. Though they may not have $1000's of dollars worth of shiny equipment or flipper-like hand prosthetics, they still navigate the rushing waters by their own power and brave uber-intense rapids with the added challenge of a less-manuverable ride. Kayakers are active, athletic, and thoroughly engaged with the elements of nature, making them an admirable class in the River Caste System.

3. Moving into slightly cheesier territory, we find the canoers. Now don't get me wrong, canoers still get mad props for actually paddling themselves down-river in a locamotive fashion, but canoes just don't have the cool-factor or sleek capabilities of a kayak. Canoers are families with small children wearing huge hats, people with dogs, and large volumes of youth-group kids wacking each other with wooden paddles. Still respectable, but not a boat I want to be in on a Saturday afternoon.

4. Generally scraping the bottom of my list are the tubers; often large groups of drunken college kids tied together like masses of shrieking flotsam with a well-stocked beer cooler floating somewhere in the mix. You can hear their approach from half a mile up-river, as apparently the mix of barley, hops, sunlight, and a flotation device from Wal-Mart can cause one to loose their ascertainable sense of volume. They generally shout at you when drifting by for a cigarette, another beer, or just to exclaim a general "WOOOOT." Braden and I consider these floating river-rats the lowest common demoninator of river-enthusiasts and avoid them as if, like their ship-bound brethren, they were carrying the black plague.

There's my short list, any other suggestions?

Shattered Illusions

2009-09-15T23:21:00.000-04:00

So the other day, I decided to go for an invigorating jog by the river. (One of my favorite things about our new place is its proximity to water - an absolute necessity for a displaced beach bum like myself.) A little ways down the path, I discovered a lovely little pebbled beach surrounded by willow trees that descended gently into a very shallow part of the Congaree. Since I was thoroughly toasty from my run and conveniently happened to be wearing my amphibious feet shoes*, the desire to wade through the refreshing water and find myself a comfortable rock to recline upon was simply irresistible. A suitable rock was found (complete with hardy shade trees) and while I was scaling its face, I felt a very sharp stinging sensation on my knee. Startled, I looked down at once expecting to find the offending bee, wasp, or horsefly to swat away. To my great surprise, I found no such thing. To my even greater surprise, the offending creature that was currently knawing upon my leg was, in fact, a lady bug.

Yes. A lady bug.

A dainty, innocent, polka-dotted lady bug. Was anyone else aware that lady bugs could bite?? If so, why has this information not been made known to the general public? This is a great new danger of our time my friends. Charming and beloved woodland creatures have begun to strike back. What's next? Maulings by fawns? Death by dolphins? Bunny rabbits attacking small children in their sleep? Beware fellow nature lovers. Apparently, danger is cuter than you think...

*Vibram Five Fingers, http://www.vibramfivefingers.com/

Home alone

2009-09-13T02:11:00.000-04:00

So for the first time in many (many) months, I have an entire house to myself. My darling blue-eyed husband is off making hair-pin turns over mountain passes with a similarly testosterone-riddled crowd for the weekend, leaving me with days of empty time for some serious decompression. We just moved into a new place, so decorating and general unpacking has been high on the agenda, though I quickly shirked box-duty and spent most of last night learning the entire 6-minute dance to "Thriller" with some girlfriends. (In case you were wondering, yes, I am in fact an adult.) I love people, but I also relish my solitude. Taking a day completely at your own speed (as today was for me), driven by your every (somewhat reasonable) whim, no one to consult with, can be incredibly liberating. I even take special joy in occasionally going to movies or out to eat by myself. Some find this strange, but I encourage you to try it sometime - you might surprise yourself. One thing I absolutely detest about having the house to myself, however, is trying to fall asleep. It is currently 2:24am and I am writing at this moment in avoidance of turning out the lights and trying not to listen to the bumps and creaks of our new abode as I try desperately to slip into unconsciousness. I swear to you, it's like I'm 5 years old. My solution? Leave all the lights on in the house and sleep with an eye-mask - that way, if I hear a sudden noise, I can simply whip the mask off and immediately ascertain my surroundings. Not sure exactly what kind of action I could take in my pj's and without a weapon, but hey, I do have a year's worth of kung-fu under my belt...

Wild and Precious Life

Jesus would have hung out at gay bars.

Dear Single People...

Dear Married People...

Counting the gifts

Fear not.

Deuteronomy 31:6

Recommended Reading

Intentions.

Happy New Year!

Tis' the season to think before you drink.

Whoa - so is this some kind of seasonal thing??

November? Seriously??

A Wrecky Homage.

Sucking the marrow.

It's the most wonderful time of the year.

Favorite Fall Flicks

October Sky

"Writer's Trepidation"

True Wuv - Part Duex

I feel the Earth move under my feet.

Psalm 46:1-3, 10-11

I'm spittin' mad.

Wuv, true wuv...

Shackles

Loves like a hurricane.

Why the Twilight franchise is teaching young girls horrible lessons.

Good news and bad news.

Colorful inspiration

Erin go bragh!

Spring Fever

I feel it in my fingers...

Oops, this was supposed to go up on Valentine's Day...

Rock-star woman.

Thank you Punxsutawney Phil.

It's manufactured, materialistic holiday time!

1 Corinthians 13

Snow Days

Bucket List - Part 2

Bucket List

Afternoon transformation!

What I really want to say is this...

Recipe time!

Into the wild...

"Mundance"

Get it together.

A great, weird, and intense weekend.

Adventure is out there!

Celebrations.

A Walk in the Woods

Happy weekend!

Cloud chaser.

Dance dance.

A day of rest.

Happy Fall!

What I really want to say is this...

A bit macabre.

Enchanting adventures.

An unexpected sniff.

"I think it was a combination of kiwis and stress."

Autumn is in the air...

Highlight Reel

A fresh start.

24

My phone booth

River Caste

Shattered Illusions

Home alone