I Celebrate the Day!

I've been itching to write about Christmas all day! However, mom enacted a laptop moratorium in order to keep our holiday merry and bright and our family as tightly knit as ever! (And I mean that quite literally...as mom, sis and I spent our afternoon knitting, purling & cabling away!)

I love Christmas! I really, truly do! I love twinkling lights, and colorfully wrapped boxes. I love Christmas music and Christmas movies. I love traditions and I love Santa...but mostly, I love Jesus!

I love the Reason for Christmas. I love that we celebrate the birth of the One who came to save us all. It's easy to get lost in the glitter and sparkle of the holiday season. It's easy to get caught up in the shopping shopping shopping and the getting getting getting. Sometimes it's even easy to get caught up in the giving. With all the distractions, it's easy to forget that all the giving and getting and shopping and decorating doesn't matter. Not in the least. We have already been given the greatest gift there is to give. It doesn't come in a colorfully wrapped box, it doesn't sparkle or twinkle. This gift isn't an apron and pie cookbook. It isn't a framed diploma. The gift is life. Eternal life. Life that we get to live because Jesus was born. Jesus was born to die. For us. To give us life.

So Merry Christmas, and here's to many more!

Things that suck:

1. When the not-at-all-a-jerk, Linus-esque guy you like doesn't like you back
2. Because he likes someone else
3. Who is your friend
4. And likes him, too

I'm just starting to wonder why is it always me? Or I guess the question should be 'why is it never me?'

Sometimes I wear make-up, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I painstakingly choose an outfit, sometimes I wear jeans and a sweatshirt. Sometimes I blow dry my hair, sometimes I stick it up in a ponytail. It doesn't seem make any difference either way.

I give up! That's my New Years resolution...giving up!

Chick Flicks and Disney Heroes!

This weekend I had a good old fashioned slumber party with some friends! We ended up watching Love, Actually (which is one chick flick I actually love!) and I really do feel like I should share the following paraphrased conversation...

KM: Wow, I never noticed before, but that guy is like the real-life version of Aladdin, maybe that's why I've always thought he was cute...because I love Aladdin!!

H: Oh my gosh, you're right...he is totally Aladdin!!

L: Aladdin is really cute for a cartoon character...but is it weird that the cartoon I always had a crush on was Robin Hood?

K: Yeah...I can see that!

H: Wait...wasn't he a fox?

L: Yeah he was!

(Then K high-fives L for her awesome taste in cartoon crushes!)

Then after much giggling and talking about boys we went to sleep.

After we woke up, lounged in jammies and finally got ready for the day we ended up going to see New Years Eve (aka the movie that every actor EVER has a part in)

It was pretty cute...the only part I really didn't like was the part where the rude teenagers sitting next to us were talking and not even trying to whisper.

One of my favorite actors, Matthew Broderick, had a tiny little cameo...which was made even better by the fact that his character's name was 'Mr. Buellerton'!!! Lea Michele (Glee) sang her little tush off, Ashton Kutcher played a version of himself, and there was a plot twist that I almost didn't see coming...

And the best part: Zefron!! I don't care how old I get, Zac Efron will always be dreamy!!

For the next 2 weeks...

I won't have to:

• tie shoes that aren't mine
• wipe a nose that isn't mine
• tell anyone to "go potty", or remind them to wash their hands afterwords
• sit in a tiny little chair
• say "put on your listening ears" or "use your words"
• make up answers to the question "why?"
• sing the 'wake up song', the 'clean up song' or the 'line up song'
• empty sand from my shoes or my pockets
• prepare snack

Or

• lay out nap mats

Because I'm on vacation!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Stuff.

Most of us have too much of stuff. I have too much stuff. So much stuff that there is a storage unit full of my stuff.

Stuff from my apartment: Pots and pans, dishes, a microwave, a crockpot, furniture, lamps, silverware, shoes, pictures, blankets, odds and ends, gadgets and gizmos, whosits and whatsits...you name it!

I miss my stuff. I miss my knick-knacks, I miss my refrigerator magnets, I miss the chairs I fixed up, I miss my random assortment of framed pictures and allllllll the stuff from my Alice in Wonderland kitchen. And most of all I miss my mugs. Yes, I am quite attached to my mugs.

For some reason, it makes me a little sad when I open the cupboard to grab a coffee cup each morning and I only have 3 options. I've had the same 3 options for the last 7 months and I will continue to have the same 3 options until I can move out of my parents' house.

I am waiting very impatiently for the day I can unpack this box (and the two others just like it) and have multiple mug options. Until then I will have to settle for the 3 I have here.

"You're not a girl" and other preschool gems

Preschoolers have so much to teach us adults. Their unique methods have taught me so many new things: I learned that police ociffers wear unicorns. I learned that Jesus probably didn't have a TV when he was born because the barn would make it dirty and there was no 'tricity in the stable. I learned that you can only call 911 if there's a mergency. And I learned that glue is way more fun when you put it on both sides of the paper. I have been educated about army mans, princesses, transformers and where babies come from (the baby store, of course...you can even pick out whichever one you want).

Today I learned a very important lesson...I'm a teacher. Not a girl.

We were sitting down for circle, and because I have some very...um...energetic boys in my class, I usually have them sit boy, girl, boy, girl to break up the...enthusiasm. Well, one little boy didn't want to sit by a girl. He promised to make good choices if I let him sit by his friends. He said he would be a good listener. I told him he could sit by a girl or he could come sit by me. He chose to sit by me...which was a good choice. He listened to the story, and I let him help me turn the pages. Later, I said to him "You didn't want to sit by a girl, but you sat by me. I'm a girl." His response? "No. You're not a girl. You're a teacher."

Yeah...that seems about right.

Someday My Prince Will Come...right?

The way I see things, there are basically two kinds of guys: Davids and Linuses. As in David and Linus Larrabee. Let me break it down for those of you who are not familiar with the 1954 Audrey Hepburn classic Sabrina.

Linus Larrabee, Sabrina Fairchild & David Larrabee

(Humphrey Bogart, Audrey Hepburn & William Holden)

~*~

Sabrina Fairchild is the daughter of a chauffeur. The Larrabees' chauffeur, to be exact. The Larrabees have two sons. Linus (Humphrey Bogart) and David (William Holden). Sabrina has always had a crush on David, because he's handsome and charming, but he never really noticed her until she went to Paris, learned to cook and got a make-over...then he's all over her, even though he is engaged (as part of a business deal). But David, being the cad that he is, asks his brother Linus to "keep an eye on Sabrina" so he can keep up the charade of his engagement...I don't want to spoil the ending, but you get the gist.

Guys like David are quite a catch, at least on the surface. They are captivating, handsome, and just all around dreamy. It is really hard to see a David for what he really is unless you're on the outside looking in. You're just so entranced by this charming fellow you've set your sights on. But underneath that enchanting exterior is a heart-breaker. Confidence turns into cockiness...charm turns to smarm...and even if you once held his interest, his attentions are now elsewhere. Davids are NOT nice guys.

Then there are the Linuses. In the movie, Linus was portrayed as a bit of a grump. Supposedly not as handsome as his brother (but let's face it...he was still Bogey!) Linus was more serious, and therefore, not as obvious of a choice. Linus is a nice, genuine guy. He doesn't use a phony facade. He doesn't really need to. His appeal is in his 'nice-guy-ness'. His real, not-for-show nice-guy-ness.

David might be charming, but Linus is the prince!

Almost every guy I have ever had a crush on has been a David. Davids are the reason I am bitter and cynical and sad. 'Evan' turned out to be a David (although, I kinda saw that one coming) 'Jon' was a David (The worst kind of David, too...the David that tries to make you think he's a Linus). The only Linuses that come to mind are my ex-boyfriend and the guy I think I might kind of like now.

But for reasons that I won't discuss over the internets, things obviously didn't work out with my ex...or he wouldn't be my ex

And things aren't really working out with this new guy...because I'm not a Sabrina. Or at least not a post-Paris/make-over Sabrina. I don't stand out as 'that girl'. In fact, I've actually been told that I'm 'just one of the guys' (after complaining that I wasn't being treated like a lady...but I'm gonna chalk that one up to the fact that my guy friends are mostly a bunch of Davids).

White Horse

I may be 25 years old...but I'm convinced that there is a teenager inside of me. And she listens to Taylor Swift!! My inner teenager relates to TSwizzle's music and feels as though these songs were written specifically for me. My outer adult realizes that this is ridiculous and is slightly ashamed to share an iTunes account with the younger version. I like her sassy 'I don't need you' songs, I like her fun, upbeat 'I have a crush on you' songs, and I like her 'I love you, but you love someone else' songs...like this one:

Are adults not allowed to have or express these feelings? Are teenage girls the only ones allowed to be sulky and moody (or sassy or upbeat or whatever) when it comes to boys? I guess by now, as an adult my life (which one would assume includes my 'love life') should be more together than this...

It's not

'Cause this ain't a fairytale

It's my life!

It's Time To Get Things Started!!

I just got back from seeing The Muppets...and hopefully the Muppets are back to stay for a while. It has been 12 years since the last Muppet movie hit theaters (and let's face it: Muppets from Space really wasn't that great). I guess since I'm so familiar with the Muppets, that I forget how much of a generational thing they really are. My 57 year old dad can't distinguish between the Muppet Show Muppets and the Sesame Street Muppets. My 9 year old goddaughter has marginal a knowledge of Kermit the Frog. Other than that their collective knowledge of Jim Henson's creations/characters is extremely limited.

But the new movie just made me so happy!! It had every thing you expect from a Muppet movie: random celebrity cameos...check! (Mickey Rooney, Whoopi, Neil Patrick Harris, Jim Parsons, John Krasinski, Selena Gomez & that kid from Modern Family...and so many more that I'm blanking on right now), the signature self-mocking script...check! The fact that the characters know and acknowledge the fact that they're in a movie...check! Every Muppet was in attendance and Kermy sang Rainbow Connection!!

Amy Adams and Jason Segel were great...adding just the right amount of cheesiness to the mix!!

I'll bet even Statler and Waldorf would have a hard time heckling this movie! It was pretty Muppet-tastic!

Turkey Lurkey time!

I am thankful for Thanksgiving, which is one of my favorite holidays. I love everything about it. I love watching the parade on TV (although, I'd love to see it in person someday). I love the smell of turkey roasting in the oven. I love setting the table all fancy. I love the food coma. I even love cylindrical cranberries!! In fact, the only thing I do not like about Thanksgiving is losing at Phase 10. I really do not like losing at Phase 10. Like...at all.

But, I am thankful for a house to lose at Phase 10 in, a family that loves me, a job I love, and a car I can drive to Target at midnight. Yes...I participated in the madness of Black Friday and I will never do it again! There were so many people, and they were all so rude! I accidentally bumped one woman, so I said I was sorry and she responded with the most sarcastic 'yeah' I have ever heard in my life. It was ridiculous, and gross and I will never wait in a line that long again unless Space Mountain is at the other end. Actually...I don't even like to wait that long for Space Mountain, I usually just get a FastPass! I did get some pretty sweet deals, though...but not worth the insanity!

I am also thankful for the day after Thanksgiving (and not because of the $40 Anne Taylor Loft cardigan I got for $15 at the outlets) but because I celebrated one of my favorite NEW holidays...which has been dubbed 'Friendsgiving'! A holiday for all the 'Relaters' to get together for turkey, fixings and good times...I do believe a new tradition was born last night!! I am so thankful for that group of people! That crazy, dysfunctional, inappropriate, lovely, wonderful group of people!!

So...if you have a roof over your head, food in your stomach, and/or a group of bizarre people you tend to hang out with....be thankful!

Going to the chapel!

Yesterday one of my oldest friends got married...she's not old as a person (she's only 25), just old as a friend. Emily and I met at church and have been friends since about first or second grade. We went all the way through Sunday school, confirmation, high school and youth group together. And I was honored to be invited to take part in this special day with her! The ceremony was beautiful, the bride was gorgeous, the groom was beaming from ear to ear and the reception was fantastic!

The reception was held at the Visalia Country Club, which I had never been to before. It's a pretty swanky establishment so it's a good thing I had my classy hair-do...or they probably wouldn't have let me in. It was great to see some friends from high school again, as well as some of their parents. It was kind of weird, though...trying to figure out how and when we all became grown-ups. I mean, ten years ago I never would have imagined sipping champagne with people whose fridges I'd raided at so many sleep-overs. I mean, sharing a dance floor with moms and dads that were like second parents through high school...weird, right?

But it was a really fun reception, the food was terrific and band was rockin'. I even got to dance with the cutest guy!! Granted, he was probably about 7, but he definitely had 'those moves like Jagger'! I love dancing at weddings! I didn't even take my shoes off...I lasted all night in my 3" heels...you should be impressed!!

Congrats to Emily and Drew...I know you two will live happily ever after!

G-L-A-M-O-R-OUS

I absolutely suck at doing hair...and my regular routine of blow-drying my hair and sticking it up in a pony tail or a clip just wasn't going to cut it for my friend's wedding (which will be blah-ged about tomorrow once I re-coup from a night of dancing in 3" stilettos!)

So I called a professional and got my hair did! I felt like a princess (or a movie star or something equally fabulous) getting a fancy-schmancy hair-do by this Australian guy that my usual stylist recommended (she was booked). I brought in a couple pictures, and he brought out an industrial strength curling iron and about five different products that made my hair not feel like hair anymore, but made it shiny and helped it to actually do something for a change.

It just felt good to be pampered, and get special treatment, and get out of doing chores because I would ruin my beautiful up-do!

I just love that it's all twirly and complicated looking!! I also like how, even though it's all up, it looks longer than it actually is. Auro (that was the guy's name) said it was a challenge working with so little hair, but I think he did a fantastic job! Then he gave me a hug, and sent me on my way to the ball! (I'm assuming all foreign-born hairdressers ask their clients for hugs...I watch What Not To Wear, so I know things!)

I think what impressed me the most was that this 'do was accomplished using only 7 bobby pins and two hair pins (yeah, probably a pint of hairspray, but still) It even managed to hold up for most of the evening as well!!

Do you even see how glamorous I am?

Today I Don't Feel Like Doing Anything

Sometimes I can be pretty lazy. I'm a procrastinator, and I hate chores. Far too often I have been known to spend a day in my jammies and watch TV and movies on the sofa all day long. Except for trips to the kitchen for food, and the occasional walk down the hall to the restroom, I rarely get up. I actually like lazy days...I catch up on 'my stories', spend quality time with my laptop and watch Penelope (or whatever, I just love that movie so much!). My tendency towards laziness drives my mother up the wall. She is one of those who is always moving and busy. Until Sunday. When she came down with a little cold. So she slept until nearly 10, stayed in her jammies and just rested on the couch all day long. Like, a good daughter I made her tea, brought her toast, and offered to sing 'Soft Kitty'. I didn't let her do any school work or house work. And you know what? At the end of the day she felt better. In fact, on Monday she told me that she felt better then she did before she got sick. She actually admitted that taking a lazy day helped her.

So...to that I say: Why do today what can so easily be done tomorrow?

Be lazy

Be refreshed!

Who's That Girl?

Five episodes in, and I am hooked on the new Fox series New Girl. At times, I think this show is partially based on my life. Essentially, it is about a girl who is quirky and weird, and likes being quirky and weird, and through her quirkiness and weirdness ends up being pretty adorable (or in the show's word: 'a-dork-able'). I can totally relate to the main character, Jess, because being adorable is my thing! People are always saying things to me like, "Oh, you're a preschool teacher, that's adorable." "You have a crush on a guy, you're too cute." And yeah, working with 3 and 4 year olds is super cute. Especially when instead of napping (like they're supposed to), they kick you, hit you, laugh at you and make you so frustrated that you cry*. And I'm not sure why but somehow my having a crush on a guy who probably will never feel the same way seems 'cute' to my married friends. Yes, sometimes I think my life is just too cute for me to handle. Doing all the quirky and weird and 'adorable' things I do every day is exhausting. It's actually pretty hard work being this adorable all the time....but I guess someone's gotta do it.

(What can I say?)

*To be fair, that was an isolated incident...I really do love my job

Oops...I Did It Again

Remember elementary school? When you had a crush on someone, you would show them how much to liked them by teasing them, calling them names and/or chasing them around the playground. I want to know at what age 'normal' people start owning up to their feelings...because I'm pretty sure I'm still a bit of a second grader when it comes to this kind of stuff. About a week ago I needed some advice about an issue I was having with my car. Cars are super confusing for one thing. Pounds of air? Inches of air? What is that about? Also, can my car just come right out and tell me what is wrong with it. Like, if I need air in my tires, can there be a light on my dash that actually says 'tires need air' instead of some crazy hieroglyphic? Anyway, this isn't about my car, or her tires...it's about the question I had about my car. Someone (male) gave me some actual information...and my reply was snarky and sarcastic. My MO is my cynical charm...and for some odd reason it's not working...

Why do I always do this? Whether I 'like like' a guy, or we're just friends....why am I mean?

A Place of One's Own

Once upon a time I had my own apartment. The rent was too high, the neighborhood wasn't great, and my air conditioner didn't work. On several occasions I had to re-light my heater pilot with a match when it went out, and once my toilet broke and it took two days before someone came to fix it. My kitchen had the ugliest brown lacquered cabinets, and I swear my upstairs neighbors had a pet elephant who enjoyed tap-dancing. The frat boy wannabes (who were in their mid-thirties) across the way played their awful music too loud, and if the kids weren't using my back-patio to play hide and seek on, they would always be screaming in the pool (which was right on the other side of my patio).

But, despite all of this...I had my own apartment. I had my own living room, and my own bedroom, and my own kitchen, and my own bathroom. I could decorate however I wanted, and watch whatever I wanted on TV.

I'm starting to really miss my old place...especially today when I'm being charged with the task of cleaning 'my' room.

A sampling of photos from my apartment in Simi

First off, it's really hard to keep your room clean when you have to figure out a way to keep all of your stuff in there...which is tough, since my room at my parents' house isn't that much bigger than my queen-sized bed that's in there. I have maybe a 12"-border around my bed, and mom won't let me hang anything on the walls (which are no longer the teal of my teen-hood, but a shade of gray that reminds me somewhat of a prison cell...apparently it's supposed to be 'classy' but it just feels depressing). How am I supposed to feel like this is my room if I'm not allowed to put any of myself into it? With none of my travel pictures, or even pictures of my friends the blank walls just make me sad. Plus, I am really starting to miss my stuff. Every time I visit the storage unit, I see all my chairs, and my lamps and my decor...and I just miss it.

Working less than 30 hours a week, along with the three semesters it will take (at least) to get all my ECE certification means it's going to be a long while before I'll be able to see the light at the end of the 'living with my parents' tunnel.

I feel like the only way I'm ever going to be able to move out is if I:

a) Inherit a house that is already paid off and has no property taxes attached to it

b) Win a bajillion dollars by playing the lottery, because a bajillion dollars should cover rent for a while

-or-

c) Get married

none of these are likely solutions...especially since I don't even play the lottery.

I guess I'm just destined to live the life of a twenty-five year old teenager...

Let the wine of friendship never run dry

...or in our case, the margaritas of friendship!!

Back during our sophomore year, we went to this comedy club. One of the comedians was this guy who was gay...when he saw the group of us sitting in the front row, he said "A group of women on a night out? In my neighborhood that's a lesbian bowling team." We've since embraced that moniker, and this weekend we got the 'team' back together.

When the four of us get together, we get transported back to old times. We cooked a 'family dinner', talked about our lives, our loves and the things we do to pursue happiness, and you can't forget the pitcher of pomegranate margaritas we shared! So many things have changed since we've graduated from CLU, we've been through weddings and engagements, an international move and a baby, loss of job, and loss of family. I can't imagine what life would be like without these fabulous women in my life. Well...I do imagine I might have a lower credit card payment, but it's so hard not to buy that dress when your friends are telling you how great you look in it. Increasing debt is a small price to pay for the best friends a girl could ask for (and a dress that fits like it was made just for me!!)

Then on my way back up on Sunday, I stopped to see Jennie again and to officially meet her baby (last time I saw him he was sleeping, and only a week old). Three amazing friends, and the cutest 'nephew' ever...I am so lucky!

The Peace Cookie (a.k.a. The Salty Cookie Test)

As I spend my Friday night alone, watching Bridget Jones and folding laundry...I'm starting to wonder how I got to be in this situation. The alone part, that is. The folding laundry and Bridget Jones parts are obviously my own doing. The alone part might be as well...due to my pickiness. Although, it's hard to be picky when there is nothing to pick from...which is totally beside the point.

Back in college, I lived with a group of amazing girls! I still call these girls my roommates, although we haven't shared living quarters for nearly 3 and a half years (has it really been that long?). We have shared so many things: clothes, memories, inside jokes and food. Jennie was notorious for having us try her food if she thought it tasted weird. She would often say things like 'This milk tastes bad...try it' or 'does this cookie taste salty to you?' Once during our Junior year, we were having dinner in the caf, and joining us was this guy 'Tom' that one of the girls was kinda, sorta seeing. As we passed the cookie around, tasting it for saltiness, the cookie (or peace cookie) got to 'Tom'. He refused to take a bite. There was a place on the edge that hadn't been bitten yet, but he wouldn't taste the cookie. I think this was the beginning of the end of 'Tom'. For some reason on that night, eating that cookie was a big deal to us.

This all seems so silly, but whenever I start to kind of like a guy...there is a little voice in the back of my head asking 'Would he eat the cookie?'

If that makes me too picky...so be it!

You can't have your pie and eat it too...

I like to bake. Baking relieves my stress, and stimulates my creativity. Mostly just cookies, because they're fairly easy and the ingredients are usually just around. But lately, I really like to bake pies. I also like to eat pies...and homemade pies are the best to eat (so I've been told). However, my father has a ridiculous sweet-tooth, and now that I'm back living with my dearest, darlingest Mumsy and Popsicle it has become increasingly more difficult to keep baked goods around. About a month ago, I made a peach and blackberry pie. Y'know...just 'cause

It was not only the best and most prettiest pie I'd ever made, but it was probably one of the tastiest pies I'd ever eaten. But I only got to eat about two slices. I made this pie on a Monday afternoon; it was gone by Tuesday evening.

Last Saturday, my parents had a friend over for a BBQ...so my mom 'commissioned' a pie. I decided to make an apple pie with a layer of pecans and brown sugar under the crust.

I won't lie...it was a really yummy pie. According to dad, it was the best pie he'd ever had. Which apparently was cause for him to eat the half that was left over the next day. Just for once I want to make a delicious pie and have it last longer than a couple of days. I would like to bake a pie and get to eat a slice for dessert every night for a week without my dad devouring the pie I'd worked so hard to make.

Something to add to the list of things to do if I ever move out of my parents' house

Adventures in Babysitting

There are a lot of things I'm not good at. I'm a terrible singer, I'm not a very good driver, and I suck at spelling. However...despite all of that, I am a darn good babysitter. This is one area where I am more than willing to toot my own horn (toot toot) I am AWESOME at babysitting. I mean, I've had close to 11 years of experience. I love kids, kids love me. But it takes more than that to rock as well as I do at babysitting.

Tonight a co-worker asked me, last minute, if I could watch her two kids (ages 8 and 6) tonight. I thought, 'why not? I'm not doing anything, and it's easy money.' So when I got there, the kids were finishing their dinners, and I allowed them to finish the episode of Wizards of Waverly Place, and watch an episode of Good Luck, Charlie. Then...we turned off the TV. We played Freeze Dance for, like, 45 minutes. They kept bringing props and costumes out into the living room, so towards the end, my rule was every time I froze the music, they would have to put something away. Then they put on a show for me (I could tell they did this quite often, as they had as choreographed a routine as an 8 year old and 6 year old could come up with). Then the little girl asked if she could paint my nails (she was not at all satisfied or impressed with my clear nail polish) but decided after painting one thumbnail a kind of orange-y coral-y color that she would rather have me paint her nails. So I did. She wanted to be surprised, so I did each one a different color...she loved it!! Then we played hide-and-seek, Mickey Mouse Yahtzee, Crazy Eights and more freeze dance. We were having a crazy dance party when their parents got home. It was my first time sitting for these kids, actually, my first time meeting them...and they wanted me to stay longer. Why?

BECAUSE I ROCK AT BABYSITTING, THAT'S WHY!!

(Although, it helps when you have great kids, like I did tonight)

Relay for Life (or the long version of why I now have bangs)

Last weekend I participated in the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life. I was on my church team...and I remember now why I only participated in three out of six Relays during my youth group days. It is not fun to not sleep for nearly 24 hours. It is not fun to walk in circles for an hour by yourself. I came home grumpy, tired, and my already scratchy throat was killing me. We did decide to cancel our young adult group for Sunday night. Mostly because we were very very tired, but also because we were very very sick of each other.

We played some games, we ate some pizza, and we listened to not one, not two but FIVE terrible karaoke renditions of Justin Bieber's 'Baby'. Some of the people in our group left after their shifts, and around 12 or 1am, there were only about four of us left to spend the whole night and cover middle of the night shifts.

This year's Relay was held at my Alma Mater; good old Mt Whitney High School. MWHS doesn't have a football field, just a track. Since football games are held elsewhere, there was no need for them to put in real bathrooms near the track, and since I have an extreme aversion to porta-potties, and the Jack-in-the-Box around the corner was closed...I decided to go home so I could use a nice, clean, non-portable toilet.

Having been outside for about 10 straight hours, walking on the track and sweating like crazy, I had no idea that I looked like a hot mess...minus the hot part. My hair was frizzing all over the place, it was not a pretty sight. Something HAD to be done. I was entering into a 'If You Give A Mouse A Cookie Situation'...'If You Give a Lauren the Opportunity to Go Home she will use the restroom. When she uses the restroom, she will see her reflection in the mirror. When she sees how frazzled she looks, she will want to fix it. She will re-blow dry and straighten her hair. When she is not satisfied, she will try to put her hair in a ponytail. Once her hair is in a ponytail, she will notice something is missing. That something is bangs.'

...so far I like the bangs. But I have a love-hate relationship with them. I grow them out, I cut them. Then I grow them out, then I cut them...we'll see

The Good, The Bad, and The Confusing

The Good:

I got a job!! A part-time job, but my subbing gig at the preschool has blossomed into a permanent position. I work with the 3 year-olds from 1:30-6:00! I've got quite a few stinkers in my class (out of 11 students, 6 are only children, with whining, grabbing, and pushing tendencies.) These little ones definitely keep me on my toes, but I've got some sweet-peas as well. I am absolutely loving it so far. I come home absolutely exhausted at the end of the day, but it's a good tired. A fulfilled tired.

The Bad:

"They" say Autumn is here, but I have yet to believe "them". There has maybe been one nice day (under 90) so far this month. Add shaking walnut trees and harvesting cotton to this extreme heat, and we have had 4 'bad air days' in a row. Which means we have to call the kids in early from outside, but it also makes being outside with them absolute HELL. It is also reeking havoc on my allergies. I'm starting to think this weather might actually kill me.

The Confusing:

Last May I met this guy...we'll call him 'Evan'. I do believe I have a crush on him, and he has nearly pushed 'Jon' out of my head. It's just...this whole 'boy thing' is so hard for me. From what I know of Evan so far, I feel like we'd be a pretty good fit, I guess. He called me about a week ago (he must have gotten my number from someone, 'cause I never gave it to him) to ask what I was doing that night...but don't get too excited. He just needed me to fill in for him for something he wasn't even going to be there for. Then he texted to say that he didn't need me after all...

Daughter. Sister. Friend. Teacher.

I had another sub job today, and I filled out a W-4 form, which means I am technically not unemployed anymore!! Underemployed, yes, but unemployed? Uh-uh!

Can I just say that I absolutely love preschoolers?! I love how uncomplicated they are. I love how inquisitive they are. I love how their little minds work. The way they see things is just so precious. Everything in their world fits a certain category. Everything they know is limited to the little world that they're used to. In a preschooler's mind every classmate is a friend, every adult is called 'teacher' and apparently, every woman is a mother.

Today I got to have a conversation with a preschooler that went like this:

Her: How many babies do you have?

Me: I don't have any babies

Her: how come?

Me: Because I'm not a mommy

Her: Then what are you?

I was an adult woman who was not a mom...I think that caused her little world to expand ever so slightly. I explained to her that I am a daughter. I am a sister. I am a friend. And I am a teacher. I am a lot of things.

Working Girl

Four months have gone by and I still haven't found a job, which is really a bummer. However, a couple years ago when I was in a similar situation, I was able to pick up a few subbing jobs at a preschool. I got to play with cute little kids for a few hours and get a nice little check at the end of the month. Well...a call from the preschool director and a re-instating of my fingerprints and I've got my 'gig' back as an on-call preschool aide.

I get to work about 30 or so hours this month. Yeah, not a TON, but way better than nothing at all! I get opportunities to leave the house. I get a few dollars for my bank account. And possibly the best part, is the preschoolers themselves. I love how these little three and four year olds can tell that you're there to care for them and care about them. If you love them, they will love you back. They will crawl into your lap and then ask your name. These little sweethearts feel so comfortable with you that they will even use your arm to wipe their nose. Yes...that happened to me today.

And the crazy thing is...I still want to be a preschool teacher. I have decided that that's what I want to be when I 'grow-up'. Starting this spring I'm going to be taking Early Childhood Education classes. I just wish I'd realized this before. Like when I was still in college. So I wouldn't have to spend more money on my education...especially since I haven't finished paying for my first diploma yet.

Oh well...

Just One of the Guys...

Last night I was in charge of opening up at Relate, the young adult group at my church, our regular leader wasn't there so it was a really small group. Me and three guys. With 75% of the population being male, the conversation turned to boy-type things; cars, scary movies, beer...at one point they were actually talking about farts. FARTS! I decided this was a good time to remind the group that I am, indeed, a lady...and one of the boys pipped up that I was 'just like one of the guys!'

Not only is that the last thing a girl EVER wants to hear, but it really got me thinking...is that how I come off?

Because I don't want to be perceived as 'one of the guys', I want to be perceived as a girl. I know I'm not the 'girliest' of girls. I don't wear a ton of pink (mostly because it clashes with my red hair), I usually don't wear colored polish on my fingernails, and I don't spend HOURS in front of the mirror. But I wear make-up, and I like ruffles. I want to be the 'easy going, cute girl' not that 'person who happens to be female.'

I don't want to change my personality, and become, like giggly all the time; I would feel ridiculous. But I don't want to be the girl that guys talk about farts in front of either.

I'm Melting...

I haven't been out of the house since Tuesday...which sounds really lame. And it is really lame, so today I went to the farmer's market for some peaches so I could make a pie. Given the current weather conditions, I'm good with staying inside until October. I don't WANT to go outside when the weather is this gross. I was outside for 20 minutes at around 11am and it was so gross I just wanted to get my peaches and get back to my air-conditioned car. I didn't even want to stop and look at the puppies.

Days like this make me wonder why anyone would ever want to live in the central valley.

101 degrees is a disgustingly large number and 28% humidity is just plain gross!

Can I rearrange the calendar so that there is no more summer?? Spring, Autumn, Winter, repeat!

In Everything You Do Always Be Yourself

There are two things I believe...well, actually there are a lot of things I believe...but here are two of them:

1. Everyone should have a really fun Aunt (RFA)

2. There is no such thing as 'normal'

I am very lucky that my Aunt Jenny is the coolest RFA ever! She's is one of the kindest people I know (as well as one of the smartest and strongest). She's definitely one of my most relatable relatives, and one of my favorites to visit. I had the chance to visit my aunt (as well as my cousins) this past weekend. I took the train up and stayed a couple nights. It was a great opportunity to have some time away from my parents, take a break from triple digit weather and enjoy a change in scenery. Plus, Aunt Jenny offered to take us to see the Billy Elliot National Tour while it was in San Francisco. I don't need incentive to visit my aunt, but I was going to turn down this opportunity, either.

Billy Elliot was a musical I wasn't overly familiar with. I knew the basics: a boy who wants to be a ballerina (ballerino?) set against the backdrop of a miners' strike in a working class English town. I knew a couple of the songs. I knew it won the 'Best Musical' Tony in 2009.

But...as it turns out, there is WAY more to the story than just ballet and coal. This is a musical about being yourself. A musical about over coming challenges. Maybe even a musical that proves that 'normal is as normal does'.

Contrasting something as seemingly frivolous as ballet dancing with a serious situation like the coal miners' strike of 1984 is just the skeleton of this show. Billy Elliot is not just about a boy who wants to dance ballet, but rather, about a boy who is daring to be different.

I had never seen a professional show that had kids as main characters before, and I have to say that JP Viernes (who played Billy at this performance) gave the adult cast a run for their money.

He is a true triple threat...not only was he an incredible dancer and actor with a great voice, but he was also able to make me laugh and cry.

I walked out of the theatre truly inspired by Billy's story. And after all the dancing in the show...I also felt inspired to run home and lace up my pointe shoes. After all, in the words of Michael (Billy's cross-dressing best friend) "If you want to be a dancer...DANCE!")

And, true to form, I also walked out of the theatre with yet another mug for my ever-growing collection!

"Everyone is different it's the natural state. It's a fact it's plain to see!

The world's grey enough with out making it worse...

What we need is individuality!" -Expressing Yourself (Lyrics: Lee Hall; Music: Sir Elton John)

After all this time...

I just sat (and sniffled a little) through 118 minutes of loud noises, battles, unnecessary blood-shed, the most awkward hug you've ever seen and a long overdue kiss. For the second time. And it was wonderful.

I took my goddaughter to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows pt 2. This movie has everything a Harry Potter movie should have: Harry being a hero, whether he needs to be or not. Hermione being kind of bossy, whether she needs to be or not. Ron being...well, Ron (and awesome!). Seamus Finnigan blowing crap up (although, this time, he is instructed to do so...BOOM!) and Professor McGonagall being her bad-ass self.

I loved Helena Bonham-Carter acting like Emma Watson playing Hermione while acting like Bellatrix Lestrange. Cause...she looked like HBC, but acted and sounded exactly like Emma...it was like real polyjuice potion.

I cried. Lily, Remus, Tonks, Fred, Sirius and James...all made me cry in turn. Even Snape made me cry (though I'm pretty sure there is no such thing as the Hogwarts boat house.)

Draco and Voldemort hugged. And it was painful and awkward to watch, but also awesome.

Neville decapitated a freaking snake. Because he's a true Gryffindor.

Ron and Hermione kissed. It only took 7 books and 8 movies, but it happened!

...and the wizard mother of year award goes to Molly Weasley!

It was nearly perfect, I even liked the epilogue!

I just can't believe it's over. No more books. No more movies. It has literally taken me half my life to read these books and watch these movies. I mean, my children will probably read and watch, but they will never know the feeling of waiting by the mailbox and attacking the postman the day the newest book is released. Or what it's like to go to a midnight premiere, and spot your geology professor and his wife in line between the guy dressed up as Hagrid and the rowdy group of Slytherins.

This series/franchise may be a fad, or it may continue in its popularity. But, no matter what I will always re-read these books and re-watch these movies.

ALWAYS!

Accio Butterbeer (cupcakes)

With the final film coming out tonight at midnight (eek!), Harry Potter-mania has taken over yet again. I picked up the first book about 12 years ago in middle school and I was immediately sucked in to the magical universe J.K. Rowling geniusly created. My sister and I are re-reading our way through the books, and in an attempt to bring this whimsical world to life, I decided to whip up a batch of Butterbeer cupcakes from a recipe I found online (and modified slightly).

First I laid out all my ingredients:

Flour

Baking Powder

Baking Soda

Salt

Butter

White Sugar

Brown Sugar

Eggs

Vanilla

Buttermilk

Cream Soda

Then I mixed together all my dry ingredients (2 C flour; 1 1/2tsp baking powder; 1/2 tsp baking soda; 1/4 tsp salt)

Then, I creamed 1 stick butter; 1/2 cup white sugar & 1/2 cup dark brown sugar

Mixed in 3 eggs; 1/2 cup buttermilk; 1/2 cup cream soda; 1/2 tsp vanilla & all the dry ingredients

I filled my cupcake cups about 3/4 the way full, baked them for 15 minutes at 350 degrees...

...and let them cool over night before frosting

So...I forgot to take pictures of the frosting-making process, but I melted a bag of butterscotch chips with 1 tsp of butter and about half a cup of pre-made frosting (it is VERY sweet) and used that to top the cupcakes. I also added a shake or two of sprinkles for some extra sparkle!

(I used green, because that's what we had; not because I'm a Slytherin, 'cause I'm not. If anything, I'd probably be in Hufflepuff, but I digress...)

The finished product:

They are delicious, 'Honeydukes quality', if I do say so myself...

Now I'm going to take my nerd self, curl up in a chair with one of my confections, and finish reading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Oh! What a (not so) Beautiful Morning...

I've been house-sitting for the past few days, and it's been really nice to have a place to myself, about an hour away from my folks' house. Well...that is until this morning. When I locked myself out of the house. In my nightgown.

I went out to give the doggies their breakfast, and apparently, the back door automatically locked behind me. Beautiful. Now I'm in my nightie, my phone is inside, and I don't know ANYONE in Fresno. So I did the only logical thing I could think of. I hopped the gate so I could be in the front yard. I waited until someone came jogging by, flagged him down, and asked if I could use his cell phone (now, if my life were a TV show, he would have been cute and in his mid-to-late twenties; but because this is my life and not Rachel Green's, he was in his 40s and kinda gross). Then I did what I always do in a crisis. I called my mommy since her's is one of the few numbers I actually have memorized...and she used to work with the mother/mother-in-law of the people whose dogs I'm watching. I asked her to call her friend to come rescue me somehow...

Then, I hopped the gate again and waited. And waited. And threw the ball around for the dogs. And waited. And then my beautiful sister (whom I love dearly) begrudgingly came by with the key so I could finally (after two and a half hours) get back in the house.

Does this stuff actually happen to other people? Or is it just me? Cause if it's just me, then other people are totally missing out on feeling like constant screw-ups!

lately...

So I've discovered that the unemployed lifestyle provides absolutely nothing to blog about. I thought trying to keep life exciting was hard before, but when you have to actually force yourself to leave the house because you've realized its 3pm and you've been inside all day, you really know something is wrong.

Last week, however, I did have a nice Disney-day with a friend. That was exciting. I'm always up for a trip to Disneyland and a catch-up with Tabby!! (More the Tabby part, though, since D-land is a crowded mess during the summer...and I'm not just saying that because she's one of the five people who reads this).

Um...I saw a community production of Fiddler on the Roof last night, that was good!! My goddaughter was in it, just as an extra, but I still love seeing her on stage!

Just trying to figure out how this 'being an unemployed adult living at home' thing works. I'm trying to be very careful with phrasing things. Like saying 'my parents house' instead of 'my house' so I don't get too comfy here and decide to never leave. I'm also trying to cut out some time for myself each day. I take my self on coffee dates, just so I can be sure to leave the house everyday.

Hedgehogs and flamingos

A friend of mine is 'all about lawn games this summer', so she invited me over for iced tea and croquet. I had never played croquet before, and I thoroughly enjoyed it! The weather is definitely heating up, but today wasn't too warm for a couple rounds and some long overdue catching up.

The thing about croquet is that it seems so quaint and civilized that it made me feel much more cultured and polished than I actually am. When you play croquet you find yourself using words like 'quite' and 'perhaps' in normal conversation.

I had so much fun, I think someday I might even purchase my own mallets, wickets and croquet balls!

Matchmaker, matchmaker...

I can no longer be trusted to pick out my own guys. I keep choosing the wrong ones. I have had a crush on different versions of the same guy since I was probably in 8th grade. I definitely have a 'type'; both in physical appearance and personality. Tall, athletically-built, fairly good-looking, charming but snarky, teasing, and ultimately kind of a jerk. They are all exactly the same, as is the pattern of stages I go through with each one. There's the 'butterflies in my stomach stage'; the 'he's not that far out of my league' stage; the 'I'm pretty sure he could like me back' stage; the 'now he's just leading me on' stage; the 'I need to just get over him' stage; and it always ends with the 'how could I let him break my heart?' stage...and this is why I refuse to go on picking my own guys. I will no longer acknowledge that fluttery feeling I get in my tummy because I know exactly where it will lead. So I either need someone to choose crushes for me, or I need to teach whatever part of me that controls the butterflies to find a new 'type' and train myself to set my sights on a higher caliber of guy...

Moving out and moving on...

I have neglected this blog as of late because something slightly devastating has happened and I needed to talk about with with family and friends before slapping it up on the internet.

It goes like this: I lost my job. This isn't the appropriate setting to give details, but I can say that it sucks.

A lot.

Loss of job (and the loss of income that comes with it) has forced me to move out of my apartment in the SoCal suburbs and back in with my parents in the Central Valley. As grueling as packing and unpacking was and is, the mental preparation for this move took more out of me than the physical. At 25, the idea of living with my parents (even though I've already been here for two weeks) still makes me mad and sad. I feel like I've lost my freedom (cue over-dramtic music).

While being back in my hometown hasn't been all bad (I enjoyed an impromptu picnic with a couple of old friends last weekend and a 'murder mystery dinner party' with some new friends this past weekend) it's just still very hard to wrap my mind around the fact that I don't have a job or money...and very little dignity. I just updated my resume, and I'm looking into taking some classes to increase my array of 'marketable skillz'. I've filled out half a dozen online job-applications (as well as the Myers-Briggs-esque questionnaires that accompany each one)...

I'm still not 100% what I want to 'be'. I can't see myself in a career that doesn't involve working with kids, as taxing as they are...I just love 'em

Half full, half empty or too big

I have this giant mug I got at Disneyland, commemorating the 55th anniversary of the theme park. And by giant...I mean giant!!!

So, naturally...I can't fill it all the way to the top. Whichever hot liquid I chose to put in this cup (coffee or tea) would surly be cold by the time I was half way through. So I don't fill the mug to the top, I fill it to the middle.

Some would say the cup is half full. Some would say it's half empty. Some would say it's too big. Okay, that was literal.

I try so hard to view the proverbial 'mug of life' as half full, and lately it's been taking a lot of effort to see things that way. I'm not flipping over to the 'half empty' side of things, but maybe just the 'too big'. I feel like I have a lot on my plate right now. Work is crazy, my parents are on my case for not 'getting out enough', and I am finally facing the facts that I am too poor to care about any of that. Being optimistic just takes too much work, and I quit. And I'm over it. And I'm tired.

I like to pronounce it 'thee-ay-tor'

...theatre, that is.

I went up to visit my parents this weekend, and Friday evening, my mom and I went to the William Saroyan Theatre where the national touring company of Wicked (a New? Musical) is making a brief stop. This was my second time seeing Wicked, but before I talk too much about the show I'm going to be a snob and do a little rant on theatre etiquette. My first complaint is how people were dressed...yes, it is just Fresno, but I have always upheld that, whether it is community theatre or a professional show, people should dress for theatre. I'm not expecting ball gowns and tuxedos...but please no Uggs, flip-flops, t-shirts, sweat-shirts, shorts or ripped jeans. And when they say 'turn your cell phones off' turn them OFF, not just to silent. (I can't even count how many people I saw on their phones at intermission, because your email and Facebook are too important not to be checked for the duration of a three hour show). And for goodness sake, arrive on time. The people sitting to my left didn't come until 'The Wizard and I' was almost over, and of course they caused a disruption because their seats were in the middle of the row! If I ran a theatre, any guests that aren't in their seats by curtain would have to wait in the lobby until intermission.

Okay I'm done.

Wicked was INCREDIBLE!! Anne Brummel's Elphaba was perfect! And although I wasn't sold on Natalie Daradich's G(a)linda right away, she grew on me and ended up nailing it! The thing that I think surprised me the most was how small the cast was at the curtain call. The monkeys, students, Emerald Citizens and 'Ozians'are all portrayed by the same 15 people (who must undergo some serisouly complicated costume/make-up/wig changes several times throughout the show) but you don't really realize that until they take their bows.

The cast was so talented and the sets were just incredible. I truly think I could sit through this show every night of my life and get something different out of it!

Plus, I got another mug to add to my collection!!

Where East meets West

I can't believe it's been almost four years since I went to Turkey. It was such an incredible experience. The 'following in St. Paul's footsteps' of it, and the 'ancient meets modern of it'. Being somewhere with such a rich history, and such friendly people. I was there for two weeks, and it wasn't enough. Just 17 students, a college professor, Turkish guide fluent in English and our bus driver Mustafa (I'm not even kidding, that was his name.) I ate real Turkish delight, and delicious baklava with apple tea. I saw gorgeous mosaics with so much detail they looked like paintings, beautiful mosques, bazaars that were like a scene right out of Aladdin, and ancient temples in various states of ruin. I absolutely LOVED the experiences I had in Turkey.

And now my TV is taunting me. Showing Turkey tourism commercials when there is no way I could afford to go or even have the time off from work to do so is just plain mean. I am itching to go somewhere. Anywhere. I vowed when I got my passport that I was going to get as much use out of it as possible before it expired and it has been collecting dust for the past 4 years. While part of me would be perfectly okay never leaving my apartment except to visit my parents every once in a while, another part of me just wants to be a nomad and go EVERYWHERE...

But I have no money and too many responsibilities so I'm here.

Me (with long hair) in front of the Hagia Sofia in Istanbul

I've got a story I'd like to tell...

...so I never win things. Drawings, contests, raffles, etc

...but Aaron Tveit was just so convincing, I decided to give it a shot. After all...you're never going to win the lottery if you don't buy a ticket. So...this video is my lottery ticket!!

So I am going to be shamelessly self-promoting for a moment and ask all 5 of my readers to 'like' this video!!

And you never really realize how much of a tongue-twister the phrase 'blue carpet excitement' is until you have to say it over and over and over again!

$47.14

...that's how much I just spent putting gas in my car.

The fact that this is not that much less than one of my student loan payments makes me slightly ill.

I can think of so many things I'd rather spend $47.14 on. Shoes come to mind. Or practical things, like groceries. But mostly all I can think of is the fact that I'm trying to save to go to New York, and I could almost buy a ticket to see Catch Me If You Can with that money.

I absolutely hate putting gas in my car, it's expensive and I know I'm just going to have to do it again. I realize I get to drive my car for a few weeks, and that's what I'm paying for...but I don't feel any gratification or reward for spending that money like I would if I spent it on shoes, groceries, theatre tickets or anything else that is more worthy of my money than gasoline.

My green dress...

I think everyone has an article of clothing that makes them feel really special.

Maybe you have a pair of pants that make your butt look really good; or a jacket that fits you so well it's like the designer had you in mind. I have my green dress!

I bought it last year around Easter-time because, well...I needed an Easter dress.

I don't wear dresses often. Skirts to church on Sundays, perhaps, but I've never been big dress-wearer.

But this dress was MADE for me. It fits me perfectly, and I feel so pretty when I wear it. I wish I had more opportunities to wear it. I did get some use out of it, as it accompanied me to two weddings over the summer.

The dress at wedding #1; waiting to catch the bouquet

The dress in action (getting my groove on with the bride) at wedding #2

I'm in the market...

There are precious few non-towny, twentysomething, attractive, single guys in the town where I currently live. But I saw this guy at the grocery store today who seemed to be all of the above...he wasn't dressed like a towny, he actually looked like he could be in my age bracket and he wasn't wearing a ring (yeah, I snuck a peek at his left hand.)

This is one of those instances where I wish my life were a scripted TV show, we would both be reaching for the same apple and our eyes would meet and I'd say something witty and...Bam! He becomes a story arc in the sitcom of of my life. That is so much better than what really happened: I saw him getting milk out of the dairy case and then walk up to the 15 items or less lane...

Red Velvet Cake and Harry freakin' Potter

Last night I went on a 'roomie date'...yes, I currently live alone, but the girls I lived with in college (though most are now married) will always be my 'roommates'.

Last night Kathy was in town, so we decided to take in a movie at the cheap theater...and I can say that Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 has actually gotten better with multiple viewings!

Looking at this movie, compared with the book, I think that the movie is paced better (even with all the depressing camping scenes.) I feel like in the book -and I could be remembering it wrong- that interspersed with all the camping and apperating and such that there were moments of 'Meanwhile, back at Hogwarts...things still suck royal hippogryff' and it's possible that, even with all it's flaws and inaccuracies, I might (gasp) like the movie better...that never happens to me.

Last night, my focus seemed to have shifted to wardrobe...how much fun would it be to design the costumes for the HP movies? Like who decided that Elphias Doge should look like he's wearing five coats at once? And who picked out Luna's sweet romper? And Hermione's wardrobe? Seriously, she gets the best clothes!! I also love that the Snatchers kinda look like they could be extras from a cross between Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson (minus the SexyPants) and American Idiot...

Anyway...it was a great excuse to see the movie again and a fantastic chance to catch up with a great friend. We ended the evening with some red velvet cake at TGIFridays and ended up staying out until, like 11...whoa!

I'm Coming Out...

...as a democrat.
This may not seem like a big deal, but I come from a pretty conservative family ranging from the fairly extreme (my grandma) to the moderate (my parents). Except when my grandma brings it up (using the conversational segue 'I don't want to talk about politics but...'), we don't talk about politics often as a family.
But I was up visiting my parents over the weekend and my dad asked me 'are you a republican or a democrat?' I'm not sure how this fit in to the conversation we were having, and this doesn't seem like a question you would generally ask someone, but if you knew my dad...you'd understand that none of that matters.
My parents always brought us up to think for ourselves, and instead of treating me like I was some crazy liberal commie, my mom actually said she was proud of me for developing my own opinions instead of just going along with what they've always said.
...she also said that we're not going to tell my grandma...

If my life was a sitcom

There are so many situations where I wish my life were a sitcom.

I want a soundtrack.

I want a laugh track.

And when the cute Jamba Juice guy says "Can I get your name?" I want to be able to respond "yes, would you like my number too?"

I want someone to write my life...it seems so much easier that way

cable-town

I've been getting back into knitting lately.

I learned in high school...and for the past 6 years I've been cranking out scarves using nothing but a basic knit stitch. No purling, nothing fancy, just knitknitknitknitknit, turn, repeat.

But I decided I was going to learn to do cables, which required me to learn a purl stitch.

Thanks to the wonders of modern technology and the miracle that is YouTube:

Voila!

I think it's going well, if I do say so myself

How much is that doggy in the window?

I want a dog. I can't have pets in my apartment, and I can't barely take care of myself, let alone another living thing...but I really want a dog.

Just for kicks, I decided to go on the Ventura County animal rescue site...I'm not sure why I did this, but I found a new way of torturing my self. Looking at adoptable animals that need homes when I can't be the one to give them that. Luckily, VCAR is a no-kill shelter, so none of these puppies are in danger, but shelter life can't be fun, and my heart is breaking that I can't give loving homes to all these adorable mutts.I mean who can say 'no' to this little lady?

Don't you just want to take her home and love her? I want to cuddle this puppy and give her a name (she doesn't have one, yet) and a bath and a place to call home.

I'm not sure when it happened, but I am such a softie when it comes to dogs.

I heard that you were feeling ill...

I am sick. I have a 100 degree fever, chills, aches, headache, congestion, and it hurts to move. It's possible this is the result of the camp, extravaganza, camp nonsense that's been going on in my life lately, but it's really cramping my style. Also, I'm a baby when I'm sick. I am whiny, I don't like to do anything for myself, and I try not to get up from the couch if I don't have to. The hard this about this is that I am single. I live alone. And none of my friends live close enough to bring me mashed potatoes. I am really not enjoying this.

I've been eating bananas and applesauce all day and I just want some stinking mashed potatoes. And someone to take care of me.

Put it into practice...

I 'follow' the ELCA on twitter...well, I follow a lot of people/organizations on twitter, but who ever is in charge of tweeting on behalf of the ELCA will once in a while ask a really awesome 'think about it' question. This past Saturday the question was 'Do you remember your confirmation verse?' And I actually have a really interesting 'relationship' with my confirmation verse.

When it was given to 15 year-old me at my confirmation, I was like 'sure, this verse is, like, cool and stuff'. Then I tucked it away in my Bible and didn't really give it much thought. I'd revisit it from time to time, but it didn't really click what my verse was about. The meaning of the verse was fairly clear, but I didn't understand why my pastor had picked this verse for me. I didn't get it.

In fact, I didn't 'get' why my pastor chose this verse for me until about 2 years ago.

The verse is Philippians 4:9 "Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me--put it into practice and the God of Peace will be with you". The entire book of Philippians is a letter from the Apostle Paul to the church in Philippi, and in the fourth chapter (the last chapter) Paul is leaving the Philippians with some final instructions and encouragement. With this particular verse, Paul is encouraging the recipients of the letter to follow in his example of ministry and spread the word of Christ to the community.

Now there's some back ground on the verse, here is some background on 15-year-old me and why she didn't think this verse particularly applied to her:

When I was 15 I was toying with the idea of being an interior designer when I grew up. And while I knew I was still going to go to church and 'all that stuff' I didn't really see myself going out into the community to talk to people about Jesus...well, not intentionally, anyway.

Then about four years later, I decided to declare as a religion major in college. I came home from college for the summer and was asked to help with the 7-12th grade class for vacation Bible school at my home church. The next winter, I was asked to come along as a chaperone for the winter retreat. I talked to my youth director. I talked to the current youth director. I talked to my pastor. I talked to my parents. I talked to them about the possibility of going into youth ministry. These two small fortes into being a youth leader sparked a fire. Working as a camp counselor fanned the flame, and all this time, my confirmation verse stayed tucked away in my Bible and tucked way away in the back of my head.

After graduating and devoting one last summer to ECP, I made several attempts to be a youth director in the 'real world'. I got a bunch of 'no's which was incredibly discouraging. Maybe I wasn't supposed to be in youth ministry after all. Then my mom told me the story about how I used to teach Sunday school to my stuffed animals. After nearly a year of 'we're looking for someone with more experience', I approached my pastor and the current youth director at the church and asked if I could do some sort of 'internship' at the church in order to gain the 'experience' that I lacked. I got the 'job'. And my own office!! As I was getting my new office all set up, I decided the bevy of Bibles I have would look good on the shelves, and as I was placing my 'Teen Study Bible' up on the shelf, I decided to thumb through it. I found the slip of paper with Philippians 4:9 typed on it that I had received at my confirmation.

I was taking the things that I had learned and I was putting them into practice. This verse that was 'cool and stuff' may not have applied to 15-year-old me, but youth director me has discovered a whole new side to this verse that makes me wonder if my pastor knew something back then that I didn't...