Can obsessions be a good thing?

I've found a new obsession.  Mumford & Sons.  I'm trying not to let it become a full-blown obsession, but I've listened to them every day for the past two weeks.  I am however refusing to Google them (except to get this picture for my blog, I promise), so I think that's a step in the right direction.  

I first heard about this band (and then unfortunately forgot all about them) in October when I visited my friend Anna in Philly.  She mentioned this band she liked that had thoughtful lyrics and hailed from England.  I was informed the lead singer was the son of the pastor of the church I visited when I was in London (did you get all that?) And once she mentioned London, all thoughts of a band from there evaporated like vapor as I regaled her with all the reasons I loved London and the SW London Vineyard.  


Then, I started hearing this amazing song on CD 101 called the Cave, listened to more of their songs on YouTube, added them as a station on Pandora and finally discovered my sister had the album.  I love home share!


I think everyone needs to discover this wonderful band.  Here's a link to their website where you can check out a few of their videos. 

mumfordandsons.com

 The Cave is a great one to start with!  Just a warning, one of their songs has the f-word, if it bothers you just skip over the song Little Lion Man (but it's really good so if it helps you can remind yourself that the f-word is not as bad in the UK as it is here, I don't really know if that's true but 2 people have told me it is true).  

Christmas Dilemma

With my parents and brother in St. Louis visiting our cute little nephew its just me and my sister Beka this year on Christmas Day.

And the big decision to make after we've opened our presents to each other is...

what should we watch!

There are of course the old standby's:

A Christmas Story

Christmas Vacation

or my personal favorite, anything on the Hallmark Channel.

Or, perhaps we could go to the theater and see one of the new releases.

But none of these seemed to be the perfect choice on Christmas Day.

Our choice needed to have a little more action and adventure.  So when my sister suggested it I knew it was the perfect choice.  What was our perfect viewing choice you ask?

Star Wars!

That's right, we chose to spend our white Christmas with Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, and Darth Vader.

The perfect Christmas movie.  And we didn't stop with just one, no we watched the entire trilogy (the original three, not the recent imposter's).

So, from me and my sister-

a merry Christmas to all, and to all...may the force be with you.

Teachable Moment

I learned something today--do not complain about the temperature being 30 degrees in December.  Be thankful and satisfied, content even. Why? Because it can get soooo muuuuuch COLDER!

I think I speak for all of Ohio, much of New England and perhaps most of the mid-west when I say...I didn't know it could get this cold.  When I went to the grocery on my lunch break to pick up a few things the blustery wind took my breath away.

I have to laugh that I actually thought I could learn to run this winter.

My friend, Laura, suggested I start in the spring.  She said it was the perfect time to begin since the weather might be cold, but not too cold.  But I like being outside.  And spring is a long ways away.  And I'm not getting any thinner with it being the holidays and sugary treats being as copious as sand at the beach.  So, I started wogging (a combination of walking and jogging) on my lunch break during the last Indian Summer in November. It lasted two days. And then the temperature dropped to the thirties and I decided I needed something to cover my ears and a more substantial jacket if I was going to continue.  And then, before I had time to even pretend I was going to get those things, the temperature dropped to 12.  That's right. 12 degrees. And I'm not talking Celsius. The wind chill made it 0. Can I reiterate that? 0!!!!

Well, suffice it to say, I will not be learning how to run this winter.  But I am excited about Yoga on Tuesdays. Also, I am looking forward to my January Winter Cabin getaway (roaring fire included), and attending a seminar this February in warm and sunny Phoenix--even though I will be inside the entire time, it's the idea that counts.  Now, I just need to go somewhere nice and warm in March and I'll be set.  Any suggestions?

There is one great thing about winter, which is that it gives me a perfect excuse to stay inside.  I can stay inside and write.  If only I could turn off Battlestar Galactica...

God goes before us...

I hate confrontation...avoid it at all cost.  But sometimes it's necessary and those close to me encourage me to step up and do it more often.  Well, it seemed inevitable when my cars SRS light blared red over a month ago.  It meant that I would need to take it to the dealership to have the safety light read by their diagnostic computer, a service that would cost me $94 if the problem wasn't covered under warranty. 

Sounds pretty straightforward, right?  Except that I had just had the airbag replaced the month before because of a recall.  Alan, a friend and engineer at Honda (which is the type of car I have), told me that since the light hadn't been on before they had worked on my car that something had probably come loose.  And to make sure I didn't pay a dime.  My sister also told me that  I better stand up for myself (although she used more colorful language). 

Instead of facing the problem, I put it off...for weeks.  And then my vacation loomed before me, a vacation in which I was going to drive my car to Pennsylvania and Massachusetts.  I couldn't put it off anymore.  I made the call. 

To add more drama and stress to the situation they couldn't schedule me until the day I was leaving for vacation.  This meant I would have to wait around for who knows how long until the car was done, then argue with them about how I shouldn't have to pay anything, before driving seven and a half hours to Philadelphia.  Awesome!

Well, I turned to God, praying that he would go before me.  That he would make all the details work out and that I would be able to follow along, trusting him.  I worried, and would have to pray that he take that worry and help me trust him.  For two weeks this was my prayer.  That and safety while I drove to Grand Rapids, Michigan and back without knowing what was wrong with the safety devices in my car. 

And then Wednesday morning I drove my car to the dealership, at 7 in the morning, explained the problem, and was handed a beeper and asked to wait while they ran the diagnostics.  I prayed...sat in the waiting area, thankful that I would know early what the problem was so I would have time to prepare myself for battle.  And then, at 7:25, the beeper went off and I prayed for the words so that I would not be taken advantage of. 

Well, the words were unnecessary.  It was a problem with the seat belt buckle (that had been having problems for the past year and I ignored) and it was covered under warranty.  No arguing, no money.  I was home by 7:35, watching Wallender before it was erased from my TIVO and drinking a Starbucks latte.  By 10:45 I was on my way to PA and at 6:00 I arrived. 

I know that not every situation will be as simple as this, and at some point I will have to use my voice.  But I pray that at all times I will ask God to go before me and if I do I know he will give me the words.

My Current Gripe

I would like to take just a few minutes to complain about driver's in Columbus, Ohio.

Before today I was under the impression that most people who have an Ohio driver's license know how to handle a dead street light, aka when there is no power to a street light at an intersection and you are not given a red, green or yellow light and therefore no direction. 

Well, today I was proven wrong. 

I went through not one, but three dead street lights (with great fear of being hit by crazy driver's who apparently never read their driving manual) and I was less than compassionate for the selfish driver's of our roadway.

Now, I took a poll (of one person at work) who was able to give me the proper procedure.  And so I feel quite confidant that my knowledge of working traffic laws is completely accurate.

In this instance we must treat these intersections (even the intersections on Schrock road, which last time I checked was neither in Italy nor Chechnya) as four-way stops.

Now, help me out if I'm wrong here, but I'm pretty sure four-way stop does not mean traffic on the main road keeps going without stopping never allowing the side streets a right of way.  Also, I am quite certain it does not mean that when the main traffic stops it is time for every single car from Kroger to turn left onto the main road (that's right red minivan with an American flag on the back that gave me a dirty look when you pulled out in front of me when it was clearly my turn to go, I'm talking to you). 

I believe that the travesty of this situation is...

• no one knows the rules of a four-way stop (I once read that because of this you should just go if the other cars aren't, great advice.  Note the sarcasm!)
• and most people haven't taken a driver's test since they were seventeen and even then didn't REALLY read the manual

So, to all of you who have experienced a similar situation on America's roadways I say, I understand!  And if you are the chick who pulled out in front of me in the red minivan, I forgive you because God says I have to, but to be safe let's brush up on our traffic etiquette before we encounter any more hazardous driving situations, like say, winter in Ohio.

At Long Last...

I have returned to post a new blog!  Yes, I have a new computer.  Yes, it is up and running.  And yes, I did figure out how to transfer all of my itunes to it.  It was a little dicey for awhile, and I almost had to call Apple for help, but thanks to perseverance or stubborness I avoided that call.

This weekend I have also been battling an upper respiratory infection and pumping myself full of antibiotics and albuterol.  Apparently, now when your lungs are affected by sickness they also automatically give you an inhaler.  Oh well, it's working, I feel better and pray against relapse. 

Today I got to meet my mom's cousins, John and Gwen, who are missionaries in Ethiopia.  They are wonderful people, whom I have heard stories about my entire life.  So it was wonderful to meet them and hear their stories.  As they talked I imagined myself going to visit, camera in hand, to see the people they reach out to every day.  Even the 24 hour plane ride and 18 hour car ride out to the village where they live did not dampen my spirits. 

And then John began telling us about the encounters he's had with SNAKES.  Um, I hate snakes.  Even little, less than a foot long, garter snakes make me scream in fear.  I know this because one got caught  in the sliding door of the house I was dog sitting at.  There was plenty of screaming and praying as I tried to slam the door closed and finally had to use a yard stick to fling the thing outside.  I laugh as I remember how my friend Karen suggested I simply pick it up with my BARE HAND, and fling it outside.

I don't know how I would react if I ran into a thirty foot black cobra in the outhouse.  (That's right, outhouse.) I would probably forget how to scream and die from fear.  I don't know if I could make it back to the house to grab the machete, that is apparently lying around for such a time as this, in order to kill the thing. But I wish I had had a machete with the garter snake, maybe I would have screamed less.

The Menche's Experience

Sorry for the long delay in posts, my computer is broken.  The monitor is beyond repair and I have to look for a new laptop.  Nightmare!!  So, in the mean time I have to find alternative ways to use the computer, which is annoying seeing as how I'm used to having the Internet one click away at all times.  Now all of the questions that pop into my mind, such as where Sri Lanka is located, the current exchange rate for the British pound, and that recipe for watermelon margaritas, will have to remain unanswered.  I just hope that watermelon stays fresh until I choose my new computer.

Anyway, back to the post I was originally going to write last Friday when my computer went haywire.  My friend Kim told me all about this great yogurt place.  A magical place where you help yourself to delicious frozen yogurt flavors such as Mango and Angel food Cake, top it with just about anything you can think of and then pay just 44 cents an ounce.  It's in Dublin.  Ohio, not Ireland.  And it's called Menche's.

Last Friday, we finally found the perfect opportunity to check it out when our friend Brittany came into town.  It also was the perfect opportunity to pull out my brand new camera, and by the end of the night I came to realize that this new camera was destined by God to be a part of my life.

 Stephanie and Brittany show us just how good the yogurt is!

Here all us girls are in front of Menche's in frozen yogurt bliss.  The two husbands that came with us are safely hidden behind the camera, but you can make them out in the window if you look close.  And you guys thought you avoided detection.  Hah!

 

Then the real excitement started when someone accidentally hit the fire alarm inside the store.  A few minutes later, as Menche employees stood helplessly by, the fire department showed up, axes in hand, to put out the fire (but in reality just stood around waiting for the manager to show up with keys to turn off the alarm).

And let me just say, if you are in your twenties and still single, you need to go to Dublin and start a fire.  Cause they've got some cute firemen out their.  And the best part is that they know how to wield an ax, which is one of my top five most important requirements for my future husband.  All things considered I give my Menche's experience a 9!  Good food and full of drama, just the way things should be.

Nikon

I was going to write about my neurotic animals.  Then I washed my camera, which was still in my jeans pocket after the Irish Festival.  No worries, it was cheap, albeit relatively new.  C'est la vie, or that's life (to you non-French speakers).

I ordered a new camera that should arrive today.  It does not fit in my pocket, so being destroyed by washing machine has now, fingers-crossed, been eliminated from the various ways I can harm it.  But as I wait for its arrival my previous camera mishaps keep playing a permanent rerun loop in my mind.  I've spent a little more money on this one (so that it can't fit in my pocket), and I fret that I will not be able to keep it safe. 

How hard is it to keep an inanimate object safe?  Well let's recall my history with cameras.  I will skip all the times I dropped my camera before I owned a digital.  There are too many incidents to keep them straight. 

When I was in college, my parents bought me my first digital camera.  It was wonderful, took great pictures, and needed little to no skill to use it.  I had this camera approximately two months before an unfortunate mishap forever took it from my novice hands.  My school took a trip to Cedar Point, a local amusement park, and I took my new camera.  We posed for a few pictures in line as we waited for the Racers, one of the most tame roller coasters there.  And then it was my turn to ride.  I was careful as I put the camera in my jacket pocket and lowered the bar, making sure to wedge the camera so there was no way it could fall out.  Except that it did fall out.  One camera gone forever (especially since I forgot to check the lost and found before we left). 

I don't think I ever told my parents about the fate of that camera.  Well mom and dad if you're reading this now you finally know why you never saw that camera again, I'm sorry.

Over the next few years, I think I stuck to film cameras, afraid of what might befall an expensive camera.  Then about five years ago I finally got a new digital one.  Radio Shack was having a sale and I had a coupon.  The camera went with me everywhere, out of the country to France, England and Canada.  To amusement parks where it stayed in the safety of a zipped pocket.  And even to my classroom.  Until sometime last year, when I put it in a bag I was bringing home from school, and I have never seen the bag or the camera since.  I know it was in my room at one point.  Now I think it is residing in the local dump. 

Well, now that my first "grown-up" camera is on its way I'm filled with excitement about all the macro, landscape and portrait shots I will take, but at the same time feel great trepidation at what may happen to this poor camera that is in my care.  Let's all send up a prayer that my camera will be with me for a long time to come.

Less than two weeks away from the release of one of the most anticipated books in my lifetime!  I'm talking, of course, about the third installment of The Hunger Games, aka Mockingjay, by Suzanne Collins.  If you have no idea what The Hunger Games is, you need to find out.  SOON. 

These books are fast pace, thrilling adventures that are easy to read since they are young adult fiction (which in my opinion is often better than adult fiction) and are outstanding.  Even Stephen King and Stephanie Meyer agree with me.  Now, if you don't know who either of these writer's are you probably won't like these books.  Not that you have to like Stephen King and Stephanie Meyer's books in order to like The Hunger Games, you just have to be aware of who they are.

Honestly, if you haven't read these books you need to go now and beg, borrow, or steal them and devour them ASAP.  Well, maybe you shouldn't steal, although if you're thrown in jail it would give you the time to read the books.  But it is undoubtedly not as comfy as your couch.  However, you would have an intersting perspective on the content if you were in jail. 

Just to be clear, stealing is bad.  Don't do it.

But do read these books. 

Time Flies When You're Having Fun

It's Sunday night already!  How did this happen?

Oh that's right, the Dublin Irish Festival was this weekend.  And I had a blast and a beer.  That's right, only one.  Actually, I even shared that one. 

The Festival completely snuck up on me.  I knew it was coming, but it still took me by surprise.  Summer is going way too fast.  How can it already be August?

Normally I only go Sunday morning to the festival because when you donate a can of food you get in free.  This year I went Friday and Saturday night.  And it was amazing.

This is Gaelic Storm, who played Friday night.  A ton of my friends rave about their music, and now I know why.  Even though I was crammed in the midst of four thousand strangers, with no room to move, I had so much fun! Their music is Irish with some rock thrown in and so much energy.  Loved it.  Want the music.  Kind of want to be a serious groopie and follow them around on their tour.

Also, Irish Dancing is fun to watch.  I'm too afraid to try it.  Maybe I will some day when I decide I'm okay with breaking my ankle.  FYI, I was informed one of these dresses can cost a few thousand dollars, the wig is another four hundred.  So that's why my parents put me in ballet!

Finally, having friends in high places is awesome.  I got to hang out backstage at one of the stages and just chill and listen to the wonderful music.  It was great!  And I'm really tired. 

Penelope is one of my all time favorite movies. Those of you who have heard of this movie starring Christina Ricci, James McAvoy and Reese Witherspoon may be asking, “Isn’t that a children’s movie?” And you would be correct, it is—a fairy tale to be exact about a girl born under a curse with the nose of a pig. To break the curse she must find “one of her own kind” to love her despite her appearance, and since she is an heiress she must find a rich blue-blood to marry.

Sound silly? Perhaps, but there is something about this movie that I absolutely adore; I find myself tempted to watch it over and over again. I could probably watch it every week (sometimes I have), but I try to steer myself away from such obsessive behavior.

So, what is it about this movie that keeps me coming back? It’s more than the beautiful imagery, amusing actors and deep blue eyes of James McAvoy that warm my heart and leave me wanting more. Being a typical girly-girl I love fairy tales, but it’s more than a good heart-warming story.

There are certain truths contained in the dialogue and images that speak to my youthful, single heart. So, just like my friend from Bible study, Mike, who always must share three answers for every question—I feel compelled to do the same as I answer why I love this movie.



#1. Penelope refuses to blame others or become a victim. From the time she was a child her mother taught Penelope the mantra that the nose was not her nose but her great-great-great grandfather’s. She has every right to blame her great-great-great grandfather who caused the curse to fall on their family. Her father blames himself since it was his family through which the curse ran. But Penelope chooses not to blame them, nor does she give in to being the victim. What? Don’t blame your parents or your genes for your short-comings? How very counter-cultural!



#2. Instead of allowing rejection to keep her prisoner she escapes and really lives. Since she was a child, Penelope has been hidden in her home. She always imagined that her parents were protecting her from the horrors of the outside world. In order to break the curse and give her the freedom she has always wanted Penelope must get married. Her mother hires a matchmaker who introduces her to gentleman after gentleman in hopes of finding the right match, but every time they reject Penelope. Now, I’m not suggesting that most of us encounter people who crash through second story windows just to get away from us, but I know it sure feels like that sometimes. When all hope seems lost, Max arrives on the scene and they connect in a way that gives hope to the idea that she can be set free. After revealing her hideous appearance, Max does not run as others have before him, but for reasons of his own he still rejects her—refusing to marry her. It is then that Penelope sees her home as the prison it has always been where she has merely been waiting for life to start. Instead of staying in the safety of the familiar and fantasizing about another life she breaks free. She tries things she had only dreamed of before.



#3. When given the chance for freedom with strings attached, Penelope refuses. She is finally given the chance to be free of her nose when a blue-blood, forced by his father, asks for her hand in marriage. On the day of her wedding, as she stands there wondering if she should say yes and end her years of “suffering”, she realizes that this path is false. It does not lead to true freedom, but only more slavery. If she said yes she might be free from the nose that everyone is so offended by, but she would be miserable in a loveless marriage. And so she rejects the prince who offers her only the illusion of freedom and chooses to love herself despite her shortcomings. What she discovers is that loving herself as she is was the way to freedom all along.

Have you ever been offered freedom only to discover there were strings?

All this talk of the movie has made me remember how wonderful it is and how mesmerizing James McAvoy’s eyes are - deep blue like the Carribean Ocean.  I might have to go watch this movie now - can you blame me?

The Process

I don't recall ever hearing the phrase "enjoy the process" until five years ago.  It could be that every single one of my teachers used this expression and I just didn't hear it as I stared out the window daydreaming about boys.  Perhaps it is a relatively new idiom that has caught like wildfire.  Or maybe I had heard it, but had no clue what it meant until I began to work in the real world. 

Whatever the reason for my ignorance, this idea was spoken to me by my boss five years ago.  "Enjoy the process" is her mantra, she could have made it up for all I know.  Five years ago, I began the job I currently have as a teacher in an early childhood center.  I signed on before the center was even up and running.  There were no classroom shelves, no toys and no children.  No problem.  My job was something of a dream.  I helped order classroom supplies, began planning lessons and dreamed about the day children would be hard at work in complete harmony on the lessons I had created. 

Then the day came for children to arrive and I realized starting something from scratch was almost as difficult as speaking into the darkness and creating the sun.  And by difficult, I mean impossible.  There were days I would go home and cry because my class was so out of my control.  Life had not prepared me for managing a classroom and the behaviors the children brought to school with them. At the end of every day I felt like a failure.  And  I was sure the parents of my students, as well as my co-workers, felt the same way about me. 

When I mentioned my sentiments to my boss she smiled, with a calm that still kind of irks me, and said those three little words, "enjoy the process."  What?  My mind was screaming "what in the world is there to enjoy?"  I quickly decided I hated the process.  The process was stupid.  I wanted the process to endure a slow and painful death and see how much it liked the process.

Over the next few years I would cringe, internally roll my eyes, and sometimes openly roll my eyes (when I couldn't help but be sassy) whenever this idea was uttered.  And then, as if to heap salt on my wounds, I started hearing this phrase in other places, like church, books I would read, or the dentist.  Well, maybe not the dentist, no one will ever enjoy that process.

Here we are, five years later and I am finally beginning to see the truth in these words.  You don't come out of college prepared for the world as I, in my naivete, had thought.  No, you have to make mistakes to learn and experience failure before you enjoy success.  Most important, you have to go through these difficult times to realize you need Jesus.  There's a reason its impossible to speak light into existence from darkness, we're not God. And we can't navigate this strange sphere without him.

So, the process is important, but can we ever enjoy this time of failure and feeling stupid? Where is the fun in asking for help and relying on God instead of ourselves? I didn't think it was possible.  Failing is too humiliating.  What could there possibly be to enjoy? 

Well Virginia, there may not be a Santa Claus, but there can be some good times in the process.  Believe me, no one is as shocked as I! Don't get me wrong, it's not that I have grown to love failure, I still abhor it.  On the other hand, when I do have a set back I can see it as an opportunity.  Now I can stay alert and see what God is going to do with this impossible situation.  How will he use me, what will he teach me? 

In truth, perhaps I have not learned to "enjoy the process" as much as I have learned to "enjoy what God will do as he guides me through the process".  Somehow I don't think this phrase will catch on, it's a little wordy, but whenever I hear the short and sweet version, the long, wordy version is what will go through my mind.

Top Ten Reasons I'm Glad Tomorrow's Friday

Tomorrow is Friday and I couldn't be happier.  But why is Friday so special?  I know it's the end of the week, but we still have to go to work.  However, this detail seems insignificant when just the mention of Friday sends spirals of pleasure down my spine and I feel myself relax just a little bit.  So, in honor of the beloved beginning of our weekend here are my top 10 reasons I love Friday so much.

1. I've accomplished four hard days of work

2.  I get to stay up a little later on Thursday night because I can roll out of bed one more day and survive on less sleep

3.  Fun Friday! At my work people bring in yummy food to make Friday more fun - and it works

4.  Everyone, including the kids, is more laid back

5.  It's water day-and who doesn't like splashing around in water on a hot summer day while listening to good music curtesy of my flawless taste

6.  There's something magical about driving away from your place of employment at 5:01 p.m.

7.  I have two netflix movies waiting for me when I get home from work

8.  I can drink as much caffiene during the day as I want and won't be worried about staying up since I can sleep in the next morning.

9.  The freedom of having an entire weekend before me, completely unblemished, oh the possibilites

10. Seeing my good friends Friday night, nothing can beat that!

And with that I say to all of you Happy Friday!

I Got a Haircut!

After years, and I mean years, of long hair I took the plunge and cut it short.  I was nervous.  The last time I had a cut which was more substantial than a trim I ended up spending a large portion of high school looking like a mushroom and not a cute one.  But on Sunday I saw a picture of a haircut I liked on Oprah.com (it was my first time on that sight - I promise).  My last trim was in October, so it really was  time - yes that's nine months and no that's not the longest I've gone between clips. 

So, Monday morning I barged into work, looked up the picure on the computer and showed it to my co-worker Erica, who cuts the hair of all who know her.  "What do you think?  Will it look good?"  I asked.  I was skeptical and have no talent for imagining what a haircut will look like on a person.  She promised me it would and agreed to cut it. 

One day and a lunch hour later and here I am with short hair.  When she asked me what I thought all I could say was "it's really short."  A few hours later, hours in which I've caught quick glimpses of myself, stared at my reflection for long minutes, showered and added gel to my hair to see what it would look like without a bunch of tousling (obssess much?) I've decided I like it. 

It may be shorter than I was going for, but the shape is great.  It's going to be super easy to do, and it's super cute!  I'm also going to grab some pomade, putty whatever it's called and see how sassy I can get it.  Thanks Erica for a great cut and taking a chance on a girl with curls.

Time To Say Goodbye

Friday night I went to a going away party for my friend and work colleague, Ana.  She is going to grad school in Philly before moving to some TBD third world country where she will no doubt save the world.  I'm still slightly in denial, she doesn't leave until sometime in August allowing us at least three more "hang out" days.

Tonight, I have yet another send off party for my friend's Kathy and Jon.  They are also moving in August, to the unfortunate state of Michigan (sorry if I've offended but there's a rivalry that no one can deny).  In both circumstances I have channeled my sadness the only way I can, by planning a trip to visit. 

This is a wonderful form of therapy.  I love road trips, new places, small towns, big cities and adventure (as long as there is indoor plumbing and plenty of central air), so planning a trip seems like a no brainer.  And since graduating from college I have gone to Seattle, Denver, Nashville, State College, PA, Boston, Marysville and Reynoldsburg, and possibly some other places I'm forgetting, all to visit friends.

I realize that I live in Columbus and that I listed Marysville and Reynoldsburg, but I feel it's only right.  They are twenty-five minutes away and with today's gas prices I count them as road trips. 

So, on the bright side, I will get to visit Grand Rapids, Michigan (just named by Money magazine as one of the best small towns in the US!) and Philadelphia in the coming year. 

But the bright side is a little to rosy for me, I have to give these glasses a rest.  In reality it really sucks to say goodbye to friends.  People who support you and make you laugh and laugh at you, I mean with you.  And staying in touch is hard.  There's a reason why I've only listed places I've visited friends since college, because I didn't stay in touch with people before that.  I always have great intentions, but it's kind of tricky to stay in touch without addresses and phone numbers.  It's always slipped my mind on graduation day to go up to the people I've seen every day for four years and get their contact information.  Pictures, yes.  Data, no. 

And I also have an aversion to talking on the phone for long periods of time (this began when I missed a trip to go sledding during a snow day in fifth grade because I was talking on the phone for hours about boys).  Not to mention who sends real mail anymore and people really don't communicate well by e-mail. 

Now, I know what you're thinking...Facebook.  Well, frankly it annoys me.  I don't feel closer to people when I get on Facebook, although I could write a bloody good report about them for school and make sure they have not been kidnapped or hospitalized if they haven't returned my phone calls.  I can hear your gasp as you read this and I know I am ridiculous, but maybe God will change me. 

All kidding aside, I know that when God moves people he also grows people.  My friends who have moved away have found a new reliance on Jesus that they never would have had if they had stayed.  And I have learned to rely on him through the loneliness that fills the time we used to spend together and as I battle my fears as I  meet new people and develop new friendships.

So, it's "go" time again, time to be stretched, time to step outside of my comfort zone.

Liscensed to Teach

It was a normal, humdrum day.  The kids in my class were their normal, hyper selves and true delights (especially when they yelled loudly at one another inside).  We went outside on time, to the chagrin of the children who wanted to play inside, and the teachers waited for breakfast while the kids played and reminded us they were starving to death every five minutes.  Just another typical day.

One moment everything was calm (as calm as things can be with five-year-olds) and predictable.  The next moment everything changed.  The assistant director came to the playground and announced that licensing had arrived for a surprise visit.  We have two licensing visits a year, one is supposedly announced and the other is a surprise.  At my job they all seem to be surprises. 

The teachers held their breath for a moment, allowing the significance of what we had just been told sink in.  And then we were in high gear, double checking everything:  our attendance, the outlet covers in the wall which are inevitably misplaced most weekends, and securing all dangerous objects (such as that machete you thought the children would really like to see). 

My peaceful day was suddenly full of stress.  The novice teachers and assistants were quivering with nerves and the rest of us were yelling at every child leaving the bathroom to flush the toilet and then double checking to make sure they actually did.  After teaching for eight years and going through many licensing visits such as this I was no longer shaking in my boots.  But I was still flustered.  It's amazing how much power a nice, pregnant, licensing lady can wield.  Suddenly all thoughts of schedule and routine vanished from my brain and the simple act of serving breakfast became as complicated as brain surgery.

When someone analyzes everything you do and expects perfection it really affects a person.  I'm glad God knows not to expect perfection from me.  Yes, he analyzes me for all my flaws, but with his perfect judgement he only shows me what I can handle and graciously accepts me just as I am.  And despite all of us imperfect teachers we did a great job under the scrutiny of licensing.

Just a Little White Lie

I lie all the time.  It's a problem, I admit it. But while we're admitting things can you fess up to telling some fibs too?  It would at least make me feel better--even if you're lying. 

Now there are the lies that are so white they are practically invisible and then there are the big blaring red ones that you can't keep covered up no matter how hard you try.  Those are the life changers.  There have only been two life changing lies in my life, and after the lie slipped from my lips I couldn't believe I had done it.  The lie just shot through my mind like a pinball as I tried to figure out how to keep such a lie hidden in my life.  In the end, I couldn't.  I came clean and was amazingly forgiven each time. 

We know that these lies are wrong.  But what about those little white lies, the ones we've been trained to tell since we were children.  Let's face it, if a girl asks her boyfriend if she looks fat in her jeans he basically has to lie, or suffer her wrath.  Is it wrong to lie about that?  It's not like she doesn't already know the answer to her own question. 

The lies that I am most concerned with right now however are the lies I tell myself.  I have started to feel the pull of these "harmless" lies as I strive to be the woman God created me to be.  By nature I am somewhat layed-back, but also shy.  Because of this shy streak and my easy going nature it's easy for me to just go with the flow instead of speaking up.

I was recently visiting some friends in Boston and each night we planned the next day, which was a bit of a fiasco. Toward the end of the week my friend asked if I realized that instead of saying what I wanted to do I would just list ideas.  At the time I brushed it off and told her that I wanted to do all of those things.  However, since my trip I have been shown just how many times I hold back from saying what I want to do.  I want to be the easy going friend, not the demanding shrew. Harmless?  Maybe.  Probably not.  These little lies begin to permeate into everything. God's showing me new places they are hidden every day.

Some of you are probably thinking, "I never lie, I always say exactly what I am thinking with no filter." To you I say, with all love and affection, maybe you should lie a little.  We don't always need to know that we're having a bad hair day or that orange is a terrible color on us.