#thestruggleisreal

It has been over two years since my last post, and I wish I could say that so much has changed...but not really.

I have a new job...but I still feel 'stuck'
I have a new address...but I still don't have a 'home'

I still whine about the same things, I still run away to Disneyland, and I still live too far away from Broadway shows.

So why am I writing now? Well, if my life were a sitcom, today's episode would be called 'A Hardware's Night' or 'Hardware Times Come Again No More' or some other cutesy play on words that would accompany the events that led to the minor freak out I had at the hardware store today.

I am a girl. I am single girl. I am a single girl that sheds like a golden retriever. My hair gets everywhere, and all of the sudden my shedding has caused my bathroom sink to drain v e r y  s l o w l y...

There was a product that my dad used to use in my bathroom sink when I lived at home, since this product unclogged the sink I shared with my equally shedding sister, I figured it was strong enough to fix my clog as well! But this industrial strength hair-dissolver, sink-unclogger stuff isn't something a person can just buy at Target, I had to go to a hardware store.

I feel I'm decently equipped when it comes to minor household fixes. Just yesterday, I helped my dad with a light fixture at my parents' house, but walking into that hardware store made me feel like a stupid little girl.

I didn't know where to look, what to look for, who to ask or what to ask for. I just felt so helpless and idiotic. Part of me was angry because I'm a feminist and I should know these things just as well as any man, but part of me was upset because I'm single and I don't have a husband to take care of this stuff for me.

This has been the identity crisis I've been struggling with for years...I need to know this stuff, but I don't want to need to know this stuff. Any of it. Unclogging sinks, fixing lights, getting my oil changed or my tires rotated...I don't want to be helpless, I just want to be helped out!

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...

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Okay, in my last post I was all "going to Thailand...brb". And I've been back for four months. I fail at being interesting enough for a blog.
Every time I start to talk about my trip, I get very overwhelmed. I experienced so many different, life-changing things while in Thailand...some good, some notsomuch good.
I rode an elephant
I released floating lanterns (very Tangled)
I hugged orphans
I prayed for tribespeople with various ailments (such as polio)
I painted a bathroom
I danced a traditional Thai dance on stage with my fellow travelers
I stuck my feet in an aquarium and had little fishies nibble my dead skin off
I snorkeled
I took a prayer walk through a street lined with brothels
I hiked in the Himalayas
I ate A LOT of rice (SO. MUCH. RICE.)
I went to Burma
I laughed
I cried
I bled
I worshiped God in a new language
I experienced rain in a way I never had before
I showered in the dark with a gecko
I conquered the language barrier by just smiling at people and pointing a lot (I can also count to 10, and say "hello" and "thank you")
I taught English at a Thai school
...and I did it all without getting Malaria, Encephalitis, or Typhoid!

Now that I'm back, I wish I could say that my life is 100% different than it was before I left, but I've slipped back into old routines. Yes, the experience changed my life, but as I am currently working two jobs, serving as a worship leader and pursuing my teaching credential, I hardly have time to do laundry and take care of myself...I feel guilty that I'm not leading a whole new life, and I hate that 'busy' is my excuse...I hope that once I've got my credential, a stable teaching job (with benefits and an actual living wage) and the time and resources to do so, I'll be able to go back. I want my life to reflect the opportunities I've been given, instead of complaining about the amount of work I have to do.

I'm Leaving On A Jet Plane

Going to Thailand

Be back in three weeks

Peace out, America...adventure calls!

Picture Day

So I started this little project as a way to document adventure...but it really has turned into a sounding board for all the embarrassing, awkward, and slightly pathetic things that happen to me. These are my stories (dundun). Here is a pathetic little gem to make you chuckle, I have to laugh at it too...
Every few years our church puts out a new photo directory, pictures of the families, contact information, etc. As I was signing up to have my picture taken for our directory I had the following conversation with one of the older women who were manning the sign up table
Woman: "Are you going to be taking your photo all by yourself?"
Me: "Yes"
Woman: "Do you have a pet, like a dog or a kitty or something you want to have in the photo with you?"
Me: "Nope, it's just me"
Woman: "Well, it won't always be, dear."

Really?

Seriously?

"You're no grander than the rest of us"

Yes I have been ignoring this little blog of mine, I have been very neglectful these past few months, and I tell you why: I have been miserable. No, not quite...but I have been busy, happy, crazed, tired and caught an illness which has been dubbed the 'theatre bug'. I have spent the last four months of my life steeped in a community production of Les Miserables. I have been living, breathing, and sleeping the music and the story; I put blood, sweat and tears into this show, and last night we took our final bows as a cast. Theatre can be so bittersweet. Throughout the course of the show, I play a factory worker, a serving wench in a seedy tavern, a beggar, and a revolutionary student's wife/girlfriend/whatever...but the part that I will be most remembered for is my portrayal of a 'Lovely Lady'. 

When Fantine is fired from her position at the factory, she no longer has a way of supporting herself, or her daughter. So she sells her necklace, her hair, (in the book she goes so far as to sell her teeth), until finally she has nothing else to sell but herself. That's where I come in. We, as lovely ladies, try to convince Fantine to become as base as we are. Perhaps we'll feel better about ourselves if we can convince this beautiful woman to join us, after all, we used to be beautiful too. My advice to Fantine: "Make money in your sleep, that's right dearie, show 'em what you've got" (By the way, by first time singing into a microphone on stage...yikes!)

As fun as it was to be back on a stage, in a show I absolutely love, I have gotten a lot of flack for this role. People from my church telling me I was enjoying myself "a bit too much up there", people teasing "now we see the real you". A co-worker telling me flat-out that she wasn't going to support the show because of that scene. My sister saying that it is inappropriate for us to be up there like that. 

I went from being excited about this opportunity to be a part of such an incredible cast, to being ashamed and not wanting to perform. 

The story of Les Mis is a story of sacrifice, grace, and redemption, and I believe that our show delivered the message of the Gospel. I feel that Fantine's sacrifice to sell herself for her own daughter's sake, for the chance that Cosette might lead a better life, is parallel to Christ making the sacrifice on the Cross. He took our sin upon himself, so that we might be free from sin, he essentially sold himself so we could have eternal life. I think that as gritty and uncomfortable as our "lovely" little scene was, it was crucial in telling this story. I also stretched my acting (ACTING!!) abilities much further than I ever thought I could, and I feel honored and blessed to have gotten to share the stage (and that scene) with some of the most Godly, faithful women I have had the pleasure to meet. 

Our poor little show received many attacks from a strong enemy, but our story was stronger, and people who may not have heard this message any other way, heard it from a SOLD-OUT theatre. 

Aren't we just the loveliest?

Dream on

I had a dream last night that I think would make a really cute Lifetime Original Movie (at least I would watch it). I dreamt that I was visiting my sister, but she lived in, like, Manhattan or something. Anyway, her apartment had a living room with a huge bay window and a window seat, and I would sit and read, or watch a movie, or sing and dance around and just generally be myself. My sister wasn't home, she was probably at work. (Who invites someone to visit if they're just going to be at work the whole time? Rude. But not the point). In her neighborhood there was this guy, who would walk past her apartment every day on his way to work, and on his way home. After a few days, he started leaving little messages (like...'hey', 'how are you?', 'I saw you singing and dancing like a crazy person the other day and it made me laugh', etc.), and we would communicate through these little notes. My sister didn't approve of me talking to a stranger, but then again, she was never home. On the day I was supposed to leave, he left a note actually asking me out for coffee, but I couldn't go because I had to get to the airport. And that's the end...

What does it mean?

This is actually one of my more normal dreams. I would love to go to a dream analyst sometime and find out what my dreams mean. They are usually pretty complex and bizarre...