Obviously, as I've gotten older, the things I'm asking Santa for are becoming less frivolous and more useful. Gone are the days of asking for Barbie's Dream House, games for my gameboy, and Garth Brooks cassette tapes. Grown-up Lauren asks for more grown-up things, like Beauty and the Beast on DVD, or fun kitchen stuff. One thing on my list that I'm really hoping for is what I used to refer to as 'a whir-er' but is actually called an electric hand mixer (which would make mixing electric hands so much easier)
Okay, as much I want it for Christmas, I kinda want it now. Do you know how hard mixing 4 3/4 cups of flour in 1/2 increments is when you do it by hand? The first few are no problem, but once you're three cups in, it takes some serious muscle to incorporate that junk! It wouldn't be such a big deal, except I'm afraid that by the end of this holiday baking season I'm going to have one arm bigger than the other from all the stirring I'm doing.
Tonight I made the dough for ginger bread cookies (it has to refrigerate overnight, so I'll roll out the cookies and bake them tomorrow). Also, tomorrow I'm making gingerbread cupcakes and frosting for both sets of baked goods. FROM. SCRATCH.
I love to bake. I'm not sure why, cause I hate to cook, but baking is so much fun for me. I can't wait until the smell of gingerbread is wafting through my apartment. It's such a more joyful scent then, say, soup.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
The prodigal blog
...so my original blahg that disappeared from the interwebz last week has decided it wants to be my blahg again.
I will continue to post here (andthetown.blogspot.com) because this one doesn't look like I posted 90-someodd entries in two days
I will continue to post here (andthetown.blogspot.com) because this one doesn't look like I posted 90-someodd entries in two days
Angels We Still Hear on High
So I'm sitting in my office...listening to Christmas music and trying to pretend it's not 79 degrees outside, and the Relient K version of Angels We Have Heard on High comes on...well done, Pandora.
I was immediately reminded me of one Christmas past when I was going somewhere with my dad and for some reason he let me drive. I had 'Deck the Halls; Bruise your Hand'-RK's first Christmas album-in my CD player and this song came on. My father (a man who deems any music released post 70's is garbage and not worth lining your pet's cage with) had a knee-jerk reaction to the kinda punked out version of this Christmas classic. His exact words were "I bet the guy who wrote this song is rolling over in his grave right now." I think then my response was "whatever Dad, you just don't get it"...but now that I'm thinking about it a bit more, I should have said something like "Why? Because the song he composed is still being played? Because it's been re-vamped to reach a different kind of audience?" But my dad probably wouldn't have appreciated the sassy manner with which the following comment would have likely been delievered.
But seriously, I think he (who I just found out is named Edward Shippen Barnes thanks to Google) would be glad that the song he wrote about Jesus' birthday found a way to stay relevant. You really don't see many musical groups trying to rock out 'Twas in the Moon of Wintertime' or 'O Savior, Rend the Heavens Wide' or some other Christmas song that I would have never heard of if I hadn't opened the LBW I keep in my office to the Christmas hymn section...
that's all I'm sayin',
I was immediately reminded me of one Christmas past when I was going somewhere with my dad and for some reason he let me drive. I had 'Deck the Halls; Bruise your Hand'-RK's first Christmas album-in my CD player and this song came on. My father (a man who deems any music released post 70's is garbage and not worth lining your pet's cage with) had a knee-jerk reaction to the kinda punked out version of this Christmas classic. His exact words were "I bet the guy who wrote this song is rolling over in his grave right now." I think then my response was "whatever Dad, you just don't get it"...but now that I'm thinking about it a bit more, I should have said something like "Why? Because the song he composed is still being played? Because it's been re-vamped to reach a different kind of audience?" But my dad probably wouldn't have appreciated the sassy manner with which the following comment would have likely been delievered.
But seriously, I think he (who I just found out is named Edward Shippen Barnes thanks to Google) would be glad that the song he wrote about Jesus' birthday found a way to stay relevant. You really don't see many musical groups trying to rock out 'Twas in the Moon of Wintertime' or 'O Savior, Rend the Heavens Wide' or some other Christmas song that I would have never heard of if I hadn't opened the LBW I keep in my office to the Christmas hymn section...
that's all I'm sayin',
On my own
Sometimes I wish I had someone to me take care of me. Some days I just don't want to come home to any empty apartment.
Tonight the adult fellowship committee was caroling, and I was asked to bring Spark (our elementary ministry) along. One of the moms suggested a Christmas craft, so I told her I'd pick up the beads and pipe cleaners and she'd bring her little darling (who, a couple weeks ago, decided that it would be a good idea to draw people drowning when we drew pictures of Noah's Ark). We started at 4, did our little ornament craft, sang to some shut-in members of our congregation and came back. The grown-ups enjoyed a baked potato bar and I decorated cookies with the kiddies. It wasn't until afterwords, the woman who helps me with the children's ministry told me that this woman had told her that she was upset that we did the craft she had suggested before caroling up in the youth room instead of after caroling down in the social hall.
I think what bothers me the most is that this woman didn't tell me how she felt, but rather sent a messenger in her stead. We're not in high school anymore...you can tell me yourself if you think pipe cleaner ornaments are cooler than decorating gingerbread cookies (or, in the case of this woman's son...gingerbread headless zombies with blood spurting out their necks).
I think what bothered her the most was that the craft she suggested was done as a 'Spark' activity and not part of the AFC thing. I'm sorry, I don't want to seem rude, but I am not a babysitter...if you want to do something as part of YOUR activity then YOU can plan it. I'm not there to keep the kids at your event occupied while the grown-ups do their thang! I am not part of AFC, I am in charge of youth and youth activities. If you want to have a child activity as a component of YOUR event, I will come, I will participate, but if you give it to me to plan and it doesn't happen where when and how you want it to, don't get offended. I am not the youth chair on YOUR committee...while I am open to suggestions, I am just doing my job as the youth director of our CHURCH. Not your personal children's activities co-ordinator.
Sorry about that rant, I just don't have anyone to come home to so, even though I'd like to, I can't unload this on an actual human being.
I'll probably delete this post tomorrow because I'm sure once I'm not so upset anymore I'll feel guilty about posting this (even though nobody really reads this and I didn't use names)
Tonight the adult fellowship committee was caroling, and I was asked to bring Spark (our elementary ministry) along. One of the moms suggested a Christmas craft, so I told her I'd pick up the beads and pipe cleaners and she'd bring her little darling (who, a couple weeks ago, decided that it would be a good idea to draw people drowning when we drew pictures of Noah's Ark). We started at 4, did our little ornament craft, sang to some shut-in members of our congregation and came back. The grown-ups enjoyed a baked potato bar and I decorated cookies with the kiddies. It wasn't until afterwords, the woman who helps me with the children's ministry told me that this woman had told her that she was upset that we did the craft she had suggested before caroling up in the youth room instead of after caroling down in the social hall.
I think what bothers me the most is that this woman didn't tell me how she felt, but rather sent a messenger in her stead. We're not in high school anymore...you can tell me yourself if you think pipe cleaner ornaments are cooler than decorating gingerbread cookies (or, in the case of this woman's son...gingerbread headless zombies with blood spurting out their necks).
I think what bothered her the most was that the craft she suggested was done as a 'Spark' activity and not part of the AFC thing. I'm sorry, I don't want to seem rude, but I am not a babysitter...if you want to do something as part of YOUR activity then YOU can plan it. I'm not there to keep the kids at your event occupied while the grown-ups do their thang! I am not part of AFC, I am in charge of youth and youth activities. If you want to have a child activity as a component of YOUR event, I will come, I will participate, but if you give it to me to plan and it doesn't happen where when and how you want it to, don't get offended. I am not the youth chair on YOUR committee...while I am open to suggestions, I am just doing my job as the youth director of our CHURCH. Not your personal children's activities co-ordinator.
Sorry about that rant, I just don't have anyone to come home to so, even though I'd like to, I can't unload this on an actual human being.
I'll probably delete this post tomorrow because I'm sure once I'm not so upset anymore I'll feel guilty about posting this (even though nobody really reads this and I didn't use names)
I need a hero
or maybe just a plumber.
I was taking a shower a few days ago (well I took one today too, but this thought struck me Wednesday) and my shower head was acting weird. I was going to blog about it that morning, but then I lost my blog...and then after rebuilding it, I lost my motivation. However, my shower this morning got me going again. When I moved in to my apartment I took baths for a few weeks because I didn't have a shower curtain, and then after limbo-ing through my first shower (and 5'8" is not that tall, mind you) I got one of those adjustable shower heads and I installed it myself (while this may sound impressive, putting in the tension rod was a lot more complicated and slapstick-ish.) Aaanyway...I was in the shower, and not only is there a delightful stream of hot water sprinkling out of shower head with the perfect level of water pressure, but there was also this waterfall-type dribble leaking out from the twisty thing where you pick what kind of stream you want from the shower head. The leak isn't coming from anywhere that the shower head connects to the water source, I righty tightied the heck out of that thing when I was putting it in. So I'm confused, and would really just like this problem to go away.
In other news that is in every way, shape and form unrelated to that ^ ^
but one of my former bosses (ahem, a camp director) has taken it upon herself to find "someone" for me. When I told my mother about this diabolical plot her response was "I want to meet this woman, I think we'd get along!" Not only is it weird that some one who used to employ me is trying to set me up, but I also find it odd that my parents haven't met my 'camp parents'...
So much confusion in my life right now!! Geez!
I was taking a shower a few days ago (well I took one today too, but this thought struck me Wednesday) and my shower head was acting weird. I was going to blog about it that morning, but then I lost my blog...and then after rebuilding it, I lost my motivation. However, my shower this morning got me going again. When I moved in to my apartment I took baths for a few weeks because I didn't have a shower curtain, and then after limbo-ing through my first shower (and 5'8" is not that tall, mind you) I got one of those adjustable shower heads and I installed it myself (while this may sound impressive, putting in the tension rod was a lot more complicated and slapstick-ish.) Aaanyway...I was in the shower, and not only is there a delightful stream of hot water sprinkling out of shower head with the perfect level of water pressure, but there was also this waterfall-type dribble leaking out from the twisty thing where you pick what kind of stream you want from the shower head. The leak isn't coming from anywhere that the shower head connects to the water source, I righty tightied the heck out of that thing when I was putting it in. So I'm confused, and would really just like this problem to go away.
In other news that is in every way, shape and form unrelated to that ^ ^
but one of my former bosses (ahem, a camp director) has taken it upon herself to find "someone" for me. When I told my mother about this diabolical plot her response was "I want to meet this woman, I think we'd get along!" Not only is it weird that some one who used to employ me is trying to set me up, but I also find it odd that my parents haven't met my 'camp parents'...
So much confusion in my life right now!! Geez!
Saturday, December 04, 2010
Youth Workers Retreat
I had an amazing time this weekend at ECP. An entire weekend spent with friends, in worship, and learning to take care of my mind, body and soul. Unfortunately, it's been a long time since I've gotten to worship without having to be "on", and I was glad to have the opportunity this weekend to do so. It was very refreshing to get to take the time to go to one of the places I consider home and to be with some of the people I consider family.
"Self Care" was the theme of the retreat, and it's one of those things that I've never been good at. I know I've said I'm selfish, and I am. I get caught up in myself and my own thoughts, but that's not the same as taking care of myself. In fact, I spend a lot of time and effort taking care of other people. Not only because my job involves look after the well-being of others, but also because I don't have many people in my life and I feel that if I take care of them, I won't lose their friendship. I do have to admit that having the retreat at ECP was a blessing and a 'curse', especially given the theme of the retreat. I absolutely love it there...but for some reason, I can't not work at camp. I need to take care of things and I need to take care of people, and it's very hard for me to be a 'guest' at El Camino Pines. Still, the retreat was just what I needed.
The weekend was full of good company, prayers, friends, beer, worship, wine, games, dance parties and the rare chance to be around peers.
Then there was this morning's worship service. Which was great. But difficult.
The sermon had to have been especially for me. Pastor Catie said everything I needed, but nothing I actually wanted to hear. Sometimes it's hard to listen to exactly what you need to hear.
It's even harder when you're hearing the words out of your own mouth. I was asked to read the 'prayers of intercession' and every single prayer I read could have been written by my own heart. Offering God our imperfections, giving God our worries and the real clincher: asking God to save us from our cynicism. Crap.
Cynicism is what I do to avoid uncomfortable situations. It's my shield. My way of coping with things I don't want to face. Which is most of my life right now.
There is a certain 'situation' that I am particularly unwilling to face, and unfortunately it's becoming more and more inevitable. I have been praying for clarity, and of course there have been so many indications, especially this past weekend, that I need to face this situation head on with maturity instead of avoiding it and being sarcastic. Even driving home from the retreat I was slapped not only with the RK song "I'm still waiting for you to be the one I'm waiting for" but also by the lyrics of Matthew Thiessen and the Earthquakes song 'Poison Ivy'..."it's all a big 'what if', what if I'd spoken up for what I wanted". Things don't happen if you don't act to make them happen. (But I'm still asking myself what I want to happen).
Then there was this picture that greeted me after I checked my 'google reader' to catch up after the weekend:
OK, OK, OK...I know that getting this off my chest is probably the healthy thing to do, but no matter the result (and I'm unclear what kind of result I'm looking for), things would change, a change I'm not sure I'm ready for. For lack of a stronger word. Crap. Crap. Crap.
"Self Care" was the theme of the retreat, and it's one of those things that I've never been good at. I know I've said I'm selfish, and I am. I get caught up in myself and my own thoughts, but that's not the same as taking care of myself. In fact, I spend a lot of time and effort taking care of other people. Not only because my job involves look after the well-being of others, but also because I don't have many people in my life and I feel that if I take care of them, I won't lose their friendship. I do have to admit that having the retreat at ECP was a blessing and a 'curse', especially given the theme of the retreat. I absolutely love it there...but for some reason, I can't not work at camp. I need to take care of things and I need to take care of people, and it's very hard for me to be a 'guest' at El Camino Pines. Still, the retreat was just what I needed.
The weekend was full of good company, prayers, friends, beer, worship, wine, games, dance parties and the rare chance to be around peers.
Then there was this morning's worship service. Which was great. But difficult.
The sermon had to have been especially for me. Pastor Catie said everything I needed, but nothing I actually wanted to hear. Sometimes it's hard to listen to exactly what you need to hear.
It's even harder when you're hearing the words out of your own mouth. I was asked to read the 'prayers of intercession' and every single prayer I read could have been written by my own heart. Offering God our imperfections, giving God our worries and the real clincher: asking God to save us from our cynicism. Crap.
Cynicism is what I do to avoid uncomfortable situations. It's my shield. My way of coping with things I don't want to face. Which is most of my life right now.
There is a certain 'situation' that I am particularly unwilling to face, and unfortunately it's becoming more and more inevitable. I have been praying for clarity, and of course there have been so many indications, especially this past weekend, that I need to face this situation head on with maturity instead of avoiding it and being sarcastic. Even driving home from the retreat I was slapped not only with the RK song "I'm still waiting for you to be the one I'm waiting for" but also by the lyrics of Matthew Thiessen and the Earthquakes song 'Poison Ivy'..."it's all a big 'what if', what if I'd spoken up for what I wanted". Things don't happen if you don't act to make them happen. (But I'm still asking myself what I want to happen).
Then there was this picture that greeted me after I checked my 'google reader' to catch up after the weekend:
OK, OK, OK...I know that getting this off my chest is probably the healthy thing to do, but no matter the result (and I'm unclear what kind of result I'm looking for), things would change, a change I'm not sure I'm ready for. For lack of a stronger word. Crap. Crap. Crap.
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
Perspective
Along with foresight, perspective is one of my biggest 'growing spots'. This leads to poor decision making and selfishness.
Much like a friend of mine who melodramatically exclaims that his "life is over!!" every time something doesn't go his way, I tend to get worked up over the little things that don't really matter in the grand scheme. For instance, I get pretty upset when ever I lose my chapstick (which happens approximately 52 times a day). A few days ago, my blow drier stopped working. I tried it in several different outlets and pushed the reset button over and over. I figured going to work with wet hair was the 'worst thing ever'. But it's not. Going to work with wet hair is far from the 'worst thing ever'. First of all I have a job to go to. I have an apartment with running water (hot water no-less). I am so lucky...beyond that, I am incredibly blessed. I take so much for granted, hot water, electricity, a job (that I actually like), a roof over my head, parents who love the bejeesus out of me.
It's unfortunate that it takes tragedy to strike for me to find some perspective in my life. About a week ago one of my best friends lost her mother. Perspective.
Here I was whining about a broken blow dryer, when this girl is mourning her mother. I can't even fathom what that would be like to lose my mother. A tube of chapstick, a blow dryer, that's nothing. They're nothing, they're plastic...but family is irreplaceable.
I wish I could be one of those mature people who doesn't need tragedy to slap me into focus. I'm sorry that I'm so selfish I don't even realize I'm being selfish.
Much like a friend of mine who melodramatically exclaims that his "life is over!!" every time something doesn't go his way, I tend to get worked up over the little things that don't really matter in the grand scheme. For instance, I get pretty upset when ever I lose my chapstick (which happens approximately 52 times a day). A few days ago, my blow drier stopped working. I tried it in several different outlets and pushed the reset button over and over. I figured going to work with wet hair was the 'worst thing ever'. But it's not. Going to work with wet hair is far from the 'worst thing ever'. First of all I have a job to go to. I have an apartment with running water (hot water no-less). I am so lucky...beyond that, I am incredibly blessed. I take so much for granted, hot water, electricity, a job (that I actually like), a roof over my head, parents who love the bejeesus out of me.
It's unfortunate that it takes tragedy to strike for me to find some perspective in my life. About a week ago one of my best friends lost her mother. Perspective.
Here I was whining about a broken blow dryer, when this girl is mourning her mother. I can't even fathom what that would be like to lose my mother. A tube of chapstick, a blow dryer, that's nothing. They're nothing, they're plastic...but family is irreplaceable.
I wish I could be one of those mature people who doesn't need tragedy to slap me into focus. I'm sorry that I'm so selfish I don't even realize I'm being selfish.
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