Just Take It!!

I am not a fashionista, but I consider myself a person with general good-taste and style.

I assembled myself an outfit yesterday that I was actually very proud of and felt very confident in. It was a very 'Lauren' outfit. If I were a selfie person, I may have even posted a hashtag OOTD. It was  just a multi-colored striped shift-dress, a denim jacket, some cognac-brown riding boots and flesh-toned fishnet tights. It doesn't sound spectacular, and I didn't exactly spend hours coming up with this ensemble. I try to dress a little nicer (okay, a lot nicer) for church because a) I actually have a job there (that I really like and enjoy, I might add) and b) I don't get to wear nice clothes working in a preschool.

After church, I went to lunch with a friend, and the waitress complimented my outfit, and my first impulse was to tell her that the dress only cost $15 and that the jacket was 10 years old. Of course, I just said "thank you!" But I realized I always do that. When someone pays me a compliment, I usually find some way to down play whatever it is they're complimenting, as if my things are not worth their nice comments "I like your top" "Oh, it's from Target". "Cute shoes" "Thanks, I've had these forever". I'm not the only one who does this, though. I've noticed that many of my other female friends do this as well. It goes beyond just being humble, it is like a weird, learned behavior that we have all picked up from each other where we can't just take a compliment and run with it. We either have to down play whatever is being complimented, tell the complimenter where said item was purchased or give a compliment in return. 

I was so eager to de-value my outfit that I had felt so good in because...why? I'm not supposed to take compliments? I don't deserve them? Because that's a load of crap! So what if that dress was only $15, it was cute AND a bargain! So what if I've had that jacket since college, a good denim jacket never goes out of style! And no one needs to know those details, and since no one really reads my blog...no one is going to!

When Will I Be Loved?

The other day I made one of my frequent, off-hand comments about being single. There was probably an eHarmony commercial on or something. I hate those commercials, mostly because I seriously doubt that guys my age are signing up for internet dating...and even if they were, I'm fairly plain looking, and I can hardly justify paying monthly dues for what I can experience for free in real life. I don't need to spend money to be looked over, even if I had the money to spend. Anyway, my mother chided me about being so cynical. She mentioned that I may meet "someone" at my friend's wedding in March, a comment which caused me to scoff. Psh, as if anyone would want to "meet" me. It's been the same thing at every friend's wedding I've been to for the last 5 years. Each one is becoming exceedingly more and more like Noah's Ark...everyone is already two by two, and I'm like the last lone unicorn. 

And why wouldn't I scoff? Why should I be anything but cynical regarding the topic of dating? I don't have any positive experiences to link to the idea of romantic love. As Linda Ronstadt sings "I've been made blue, I've been lied to, when will I be loved?" For the most part, my 'relationships' have been more about rejection and loneliness. My last actual relationship was eight years ago. EIGHT. And I'm expected to remain optimistic about this matter? How can I? 

Generally speaking, I am a fairly positive and optimistic person; but generally speaking, I have had positive experiences in most areas of my life: school, work, friends, etc. This is one area of my life where the bad experiences are far more vast than the one positive experience.

Maybe I sound like I've given up, and maybe I have given up. It's just too exhausting to remain idealistic about it...

Life is what happens.

Whether you're busy making other plans or not...life just keeps happening.

Sometimes life happens when you get to go wedding dress shopping with your sister. I was so glad to get to be a part of that! It was an experience that included waking up at 5am, trying to get a peek at the Starbucks drive-through guy from the passenger seat of my mom's car (all I could tell was that he had a cute chin), and sitting in a chair (& occasionally on the floor) as my sister tried on well over a dozen dresses at two different bridal shops. But all of it was more than worth it to get to see the look on my sister's face when she walked out of the dressing room in 'the dress'. I can't describe it, there was just this glow on her face!! The dress is beautiful...and just so 'her'! Life happened.

Sometimes life happens when your pants rip. Right up the seam of your back pocket. While you're at work...that's when this happens:

Yeah, I patched them...and my co-workers agree with my decision to do so. Why get rid of a pair of jeans because there is a rip in them? Especially when I can make them somewhat perfectly decent-ish again. There is no point in buying a brand-new pair of pants so I can sit in a sand box. It is a total waste of money. If I am going to buy new pants, I am not going to sacrifice them by exposing them to glitter, glue, paint, snot, peanut butter and bleach water! Life happened.

Sometimes life happens when you're cruising down the road going 38 mph on your way home from work:

If this little pink slip of paper doesn't look at all familiar to you, consider yourself lucky! This is what a speeding ticket looks like. I thought I was driving at a perfectly respectable speed...I didn't realize I was going through a school zone. Suddenly, my 'perfectly respectable speed' is 13mph over the speed limit. Now I have to go through traffic school and all the blah blah blah that comes from not paying close enough attention.

Life happened!

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.

"what do you want to be when you grow up?"

Well first of all...I don't want to grow up. So that's simple. I specifically chose a career which would be severely hindered by my 'growing up'. In order to work with youth, I need to remain young...
When I was in college and I finally declared a major (religious studies) I spent a great deal of time thinking about what I could do with that major. Spending summers helping out at my home church, and later, working at camps...I really found a passion for working with kids and teenagers. I enjoy spending time with them and teaching them about the Bible and 'that Jesus guy'. I really like my job.
Except...
There is one question that every youth director in the history of youth directors gets asked, and last night it was my turn. In fact, when rating yourself on the Jon Acuff scale of youth-tastic-ness* being asked this question is worth 10 points of youth-tastic-isity. The question is:
"Are you ever going to become a real pastor?"
Because I work in the fantasy world of Never-neverland...well, I guess I kind of do since I refuse to grow up anyway. But my job is very real, and very important.
About a year ago I was at a youth worker's extravaganza and I sat down and had a beer with one of my former youth directors who is currently a "real pastor" in Wisconsin, or Minnesota or one of those Lutheran-y states in the middle of the country. He told me that he used to get asked this question alot. His response was "I'm already a real pastor". He hadn't yet been through seminary. He wasn't allowed to consecrate the elements, and with his blue goatee, I doubt our pastor ever let him actually get up in front of the congregation and preach...but doing ministry, even if it is with youth, is a real job. Providing pastoral care for teenagers is a real thing. No, I haven't been through seminary, and right now I am not feeling any call towards ordination...but my job is very real, and really important.
Right now I am very happy in youth ministry, and while I have thought about getting my masters in Youth and Family Ministry...I have no future plans to become a "real pastor"...it's not my choice anyway

*oh...and beeteedubs-I got a 78!

I'm tired

...but not sleepy.
This has been a re-occuring problem for some time now. Part of it is work stress, I'm sure. I can't seem to stop thinking at night. I lie in my bed, listen to my fan and think. I think about things that I can't control, especially not at 1 o'clock in the morning. If I could take my brain out at night, that might help. Other than that, I don't know how to fix this problem. Two nights ago, I was in this same position. In my comfortable bed in my comfortable pajamas with my white noise at a very comfortable level and my comfortably dark, cool room. The conditions couldn't have been more conducive to a good night's sleep. But I couldn't get sleepy. So I decided to get up (at 2 am) make myself a cup of chamomile tea and watch Glee on DVD...I fell asleep on the couch. Maybe I should try sleeping on the couch every night, I mean, any sleep is better than none at all, even if couch sleep is pretty poor quality.
It's almost as if I'm becoming nocturnal, I get so sleepy during the days that I am tempted to take a nap on the sofa in my office, and some days I take a nap when I get home from work. Which just makes sleeping at night just that much harder. Which, in turn, makes getting up in the morning that much harder, which makes me so sleepy during the day that I need to take a nap when I get home...and the vicious cycle continues. I don't know what to do. I can't even talk to my mom about it, because she worries enough about me as it is. I don't need her to lose sleep over my loss of sleep. Her not sleeping isn't going to make it any easier for me, and I don't want to give her any more reasons to stress out about me, since I'm the more gray-hair inducing of my parents' children, they don't need to add my insomnia to the long list of reasons why I can't take care of myself.

I'm just so tired of being tired. I just want to sleep.
I've tried tea and tylenol PMs and if Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep and doesn't know where to find them, it's because I've counted them all, and Mary's Little Lamb, and every other sheep for that matter. So much fleece...

Forget and Not Slow Down

...is the album I've been listening to pretty much non-stop lately. It was written as a 'break-up album', and although you can't break up with someone you were never dating...the lyrics still fit pretty well--lyrics like 'if you close your eyes and listen close/ you can hear the chapter close' and 'when the nightmare finally does unfold/ perspective is a lovely hand to hold' among others. It has been really helpful to put things into perspective after last week's happenings with Jon. It hasn't been a good week...and I wish I could 'forget and not slow down' like the title track suggests, but it's not that easy. I really am trying.
Next week I should be able to get my mind off of things for a little bit, since I get to go to camp...not just any camp, but El Camino Pines, which is the best camp ever. Mostly because that's where my friends all are, but it's also a beautiful site (and a beautiful sight).
Spending time at a place I love with people I think is going to be just what the doctor ordered! And the best part is, it's my JOB to be there.
For some reason the office manager/secretary at my church is baffled by this. She thinks I'm crazy...but part of my heart will ALWAYS belong to ECP