I grew up in Midwest town called Kenosha, Wisconsin. My dad was a pastor at a Pentecostal church, and that church was the background of my childhood. So many memories and main events of my childhood took place there. All my best friends grew up there with me. Friends from school would tease me about being religious, but they just didn't know how great it was on the inside. To grow up a part of such a tight knit community and positive atmosphere was great. I felt as if I was on the very pulse of life.
Big Sunday dinners of roast, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn, homemade biscuits with butter and honey, honey glazed carrots and so on and so forth. Every Sunday and every Wednesday, Robert, the church organist and perpetual bachelor, would come over to eat with us. Without fail he would show up every time with pie from Baker's Square. Key Lime, Lemon Meringue, Boston Crème, French Silk, you name it we had it multiple times. Life was chock full of church choir rehearsals, Christmas & Easter Cantata's, Christmas & Easter Children's Productions, church picnics, Heaven's Gates & Hell's Flames Drama's, Sunday School, Cell Groups, sleepovers, day trips, Summer Camp, Winter Camp and so much more.
The home I grew up in was full of laughter, life, singing, music, family meals and had a rotating door. We had people living with us all the time. Very few others did this in our church, but we took in those who needed help. Our house was the neighborhood hang out for all the neighborhood kids. Sunday nights after the evening service we would invite people back to our house for ice cream and nachos. While the adults would chat, us kids would sit with our bowls of ice cream and nachos and watch The Three Stooges or The Discovery Channel. During the week my two younger brothers and I would wake up and get ready for the day, eat breakfast and then we'd have our Family Devotions. Dad got us all One Year Bible's for Christmas one year and we would read from it every morning together. Then we'd be off to school only to come home to mom's warm chocolate chip cookies, then we'd do our homework, watch a little TV, come in for a big family dinner and then play outside til bedtime where mom and dad would pray over us and tuck us in every night.
Thinking back on all this seems like such a fairytale, but growing up in it made it normal. I thought everyone had wonderful lives like mine. Obviously as I grew older I began to realize this wasn't true. But it was still so far from me that it didn't seem like it could really be that bad for people. Surely life couldn't be so hard as friends at school said their home lives were. I went to public schools. I was the only one of my friends who did. My parents didn't want us growing up in such a Christian bubble and wanted us to learn how to relate to the “real world”.
Yet still it took me a long time to understand that not every little girl had wonderful memories of her braids flicking in the wind as she rode on the back of her dad's bicycle or of her mom taking her out on Mother/Daughter days of shopping. Not every family went on walks together through the neighborhood after dinner or looked forward to the family vacation every year or did Family Devotions.
And even though my safe little world popped like the big bubble it was when I was fourteen, I wouldn't trade it for anything. For a short time in my life, everything was perfect. And even though my memories of that time are rosier than they maybe really were, it seems impossible for me to stop thinking of them in that way. I am so thankful for the family and home I was born into.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
Something Hungry This Way Comes
I wasn't going to tell anyone about this, but just let them notice. However, I feel too excited not to talk about it! (Shocking, I know)
I am dieting. I am not a very good dieter. I don't even like to say I'm dieting, I like to say lofty things like, I'm making a lifestyle change. Which is ultimately true, but just sounds so hokey to me. Especially in the begining.
But I am committed.
Plus, it's only for 80 days. So that doesn't seem unbearable in the grand scheme of life.
Today is Day 4. I've already lost 4lbs. This is maybe the last time I'll write about this sort of thing on my blog, so don't worry I'm not returning to my blogging roots. (What do you mean? You didn't know this blog started out as a weight loss blog?!? Well it did. You simply have to look at my first posts to figure that one out.)
If you want more details of what I'm doing, you won't find them here, you'll just have to ask me.
I thought that if I told all of you, I would become more committed because suddenly you all know.
I don't necessarily want to talk about it either. It's just easier for me if I sort of ignore it, don't think about it. Cause once you start thinking about what you're doing...well, let's just say it's easy to freak out and stop doing it. :)
I am dieting. I am not a very good dieter. I don't even like to say I'm dieting, I like to say lofty things like, I'm making a lifestyle change. Which is ultimately true, but just sounds so hokey to me. Especially in the begining.
But I am committed.
Plus, it's only for 80 days. So that doesn't seem unbearable in the grand scheme of life.
Today is Day 4. I've already lost 4lbs. This is maybe the last time I'll write about this sort of thing on my blog, so don't worry I'm not returning to my blogging roots. (What do you mean? You didn't know this blog started out as a weight loss blog?!? Well it did. You simply have to look at my first posts to figure that one out.)
If you want more details of what I'm doing, you won't find them here, you'll just have to ask me.
I thought that if I told all of you, I would become more committed because suddenly you all know.
I don't necessarily want to talk about it either. It's just easier for me if I sort of ignore it, don't think about it. Cause once you start thinking about what you're doing...well, let's just say it's easy to freak out and stop doing it. :)
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
My Tempestuous Affair With Writing
I am on vacation this week. I strategically planned it so that I am only taking 5 days vacation, but have 10 days off! Even though it's August 30th, it sounds so far away to say I don't go back to work until September 7th. September! Oh how I love that month! And October!
But I am getting off course...
I attended a writer's workshop this past Saturday. It was hosted by Sarah Cunningham. She is a published Christian author, currently has 2 books in print, and countless articles, blog posts, ect. I have never attended an actual writer's workshop before, and I must admit that I loved it! I feel so motivated and refreshed!
I've always considered myself a writer. I started journaling at age 7 (well, it was like 3 weeks before my 8th birthday, so I usually say when I was 8) and haven't stopped since. Poetry, short stories, I've always been writing something. But then, at the tail end of what you might call the most tumultuous years of my life came the absolutely hardest event of my entire life. And with it came some of the best writing I've every done. But that only lasted for 10 days. From October 29th-November 9th 2000, I wrote my best as I was at my worst.
And then came the wall.
I couldn't see over it, I couldn't see around it, I couldn't see under it. It was massive. It just came down from the sky one day and made it impossible for me to write. Oh I kept right on journaling, but that was it. Nothing else would come.
After about a year of bottled up creative frustration, I started watercoloring. Once that passed, I took up knitting. Then photography. Then card making. Then baking. Then jewelry making. I am a creative. I need to create.
And all throughout the past ten years, I've felt such a longing to write. The creative juices flowing, dammed behind that wall. How high would the waters rise before it was breeched and it would all flow from me again? How long would it take? Nothing offers the satisfaction of writing. Even though I did and still do enjoy many of my other creative outlets, none can touch writing.
There's a movie called Mixed Nuts. It's a dark comedy about suicide hotline workers. In this movie, there is a character named Felix. Felix is an artist, specifically a wall artist, a muralist. All throughout the movie Felix is frustrated that he has no outlet for his creativity. It causes him to fight with his girlfriend. He is a pent up frustrated artist. His girlfriend repeatedly says to him throughout the film, "Felix, you're an artist, just paint something!" to which he replies, "I'm not just an artist, I'm a WALL artist! And I have no wall!" I have really related to Felix these past 10 years.
All of this to say--last December I quit doing any and all creative things.
A last resort.
I have fought the wall in every way I know, so now, I do nothing.
Wait it out.
And this past weekend at the writers conference, something amazing happened. There was suddenly a crack in the dam. I can feel it in me. Things that are stirring and whirring up to life. Memories and thoughts that so long ago went into hibernation, are moving around within me, stretching and filling me.
And even more miraculous is that this has happened when I have an entire 10 days with nothing to do but let it out.
(That girl, she's got a hurricane brewing up inside her.)
But I am getting off course...
I attended a writer's workshop this past Saturday. It was hosted by Sarah Cunningham. She is a published Christian author, currently has 2 books in print, and countless articles, blog posts, ect. I have never attended an actual writer's workshop before, and I must admit that I loved it! I feel so motivated and refreshed!
I've always considered myself a writer. I started journaling at age 7 (well, it was like 3 weeks before my 8th birthday, so I usually say when I was 8) and haven't stopped since. Poetry, short stories, I've always been writing something. But then, at the tail end of what you might call the most tumultuous years of my life came the absolutely hardest event of my entire life. And with it came some of the best writing I've every done. But that only lasted for 10 days. From October 29th-November 9th 2000, I wrote my best as I was at my worst.
And then came the wall.
I couldn't see over it, I couldn't see around it, I couldn't see under it. It was massive. It just came down from the sky one day and made it impossible for me to write. Oh I kept right on journaling, but that was it. Nothing else would come.
After about a year of bottled up creative frustration, I started watercoloring. Once that passed, I took up knitting. Then photography. Then card making. Then baking. Then jewelry making. I am a creative. I need to create.
And all throughout the past ten years, I've felt such a longing to write. The creative juices flowing, dammed behind that wall. How high would the waters rise before it was breeched and it would all flow from me again? How long would it take? Nothing offers the satisfaction of writing. Even though I did and still do enjoy many of my other creative outlets, none can touch writing.
There's a movie called Mixed Nuts. It's a dark comedy about suicide hotline workers. In this movie, there is a character named Felix. Felix is an artist, specifically a wall artist, a muralist. All throughout the movie Felix is frustrated that he has no outlet for his creativity. It causes him to fight with his girlfriend. He is a pent up frustrated artist. His girlfriend repeatedly says to him throughout the film, "Felix, you're an artist, just paint something!" to which he replies, "I'm not just an artist, I'm a WALL artist! And I have no wall!" I have really related to Felix these past 10 years.
All of this to say--last December I quit doing any and all creative things.
A last resort.
I have fought the wall in every way I know, so now, I do nothing.
Wait it out.
And this past weekend at the writers conference, something amazing happened. There was suddenly a crack in the dam. I can feel it in me. Things that are stirring and whirring up to life. Memories and thoughts that so long ago went into hibernation, are moving around within me, stretching and filling me.
And even more miraculous is that this has happened when I have an entire 10 days with nothing to do but let it out.
(That girl, she's got a hurricane brewing up inside her.)
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Just Imagine...
If the whole world's population all laughed at the same time, imagine how loud it would be! People buckled over in laughter at the office, hailing a cab, in a rice field in Asia, in line at the local coffee shop. The instant bond of laughter connecting everyone, everywhere. Humanity in all it's hysterical glory! At the salon, lunch ladies serving mac & cheese, chain gangs working on railroads, tribal leaders in Africa, Eskimos, women in labor, baseball players mid-game, I'm talking everyone in the world.
Can you see it? Pilots, workers at the DMV, bicycle messengers, surgeons, people out mowing their lawns, Oprah in the middle of her talk show, librarians, families mid pre-dinner prayer, everyone around you at Target, the North Koreans! World leaders, politicians, rich, poor, black, white, laughter erupting from everyone in all walks of life at the exact same time.
The sheer volume of it would likely jump the earth off its axis! An overwhelming cacophony of wind over water, a hurricane of laughter.
People who were fighting and angry are suddenly holding on to each other to steady their balance as they're hunched over trying to catch their breath, lawyers in court presenting their case suddenly ridiculously uncomposed doubled over with laughter, policemen clinging to the car door of the person they've just pulled over; crying and turning red in laughter! Everyone stuck in traffic, everyone who moments ago were terrified, bored, angry, sleeping!
I think it would be a lot like when you go into a sold out comedy movie. At first you're minding your own business, trying to be courteous of everyone so closely seated next to you. But after two hours of ab tightening laughter, you're suddenly connected to those around you. You walk out of the theater laughing with them, quoting the funniest parts of the movie. On your ride home you laugh to yourself at how great everyone at the theater was.
Now imagine that on such a grand scale. Everyone in the entire world feeling that camaraderie with their fellow man. All of us laughing and slapping each other on the back, holding one another up as we're all teetering on the edge of ourselves, about to be lost forever in the comedic abyss. Hands on knees, heads thrown back, belly laughing, busting a gut, howling at the moon laughter.
A whole world of heeheehee's and hahaha's and hohoho's. The high pitched hyena laughers, the deep belly laughers, the cackling Wicked Witch of the West laughers, the mouth wide open silent laughers, the dolphin-like staccato laughers, the old granny laughers, the I've been smoking all my life wheezing laughers, the gigglers all laughing, hysterically, joyfully, honestly out and out laughing!
Someone once said they'd like to buy the whole world a coke, well I'd like to buy the whole world a good 5-10 minute laugh.
Preferably at the exact same time.
Can you see it? Pilots, workers at the DMV, bicycle messengers, surgeons, people out mowing their lawns, Oprah in the middle of her talk show, librarians, families mid pre-dinner prayer, everyone around you at Target, the North Koreans! World leaders, politicians, rich, poor, black, white, laughter erupting from everyone in all walks of life at the exact same time.
The sheer volume of it would likely jump the earth off its axis! An overwhelming cacophony of wind over water, a hurricane of laughter.
People who were fighting and angry are suddenly holding on to each other to steady their balance as they're hunched over trying to catch their breath, lawyers in court presenting their case suddenly ridiculously uncomposed doubled over with laughter, policemen clinging to the car door of the person they've just pulled over; crying and turning red in laughter! Everyone stuck in traffic, everyone who moments ago were terrified, bored, angry, sleeping!
I think it would be a lot like when you go into a sold out comedy movie. At first you're minding your own business, trying to be courteous of everyone so closely seated next to you. But after two hours of ab tightening laughter, you're suddenly connected to those around you. You walk out of the theater laughing with them, quoting the funniest parts of the movie. On your ride home you laugh to yourself at how great everyone at the theater was.
Now imagine that on such a grand scale. Everyone in the entire world feeling that camaraderie with their fellow man. All of us laughing and slapping each other on the back, holding one another up as we're all teetering on the edge of ourselves, about to be lost forever in the comedic abyss. Hands on knees, heads thrown back, belly laughing, busting a gut, howling at the moon laughter.
A whole world of heeheehee's and hahaha's and hohoho's. The high pitched hyena laughers, the deep belly laughers, the cackling Wicked Witch of the West laughers, the mouth wide open silent laughers, the dolphin-like staccato laughers, the old granny laughers, the I've been smoking all my life wheezing laughers, the gigglers all laughing, hysterically, joyfully, honestly out and out laughing!
Someone once said they'd like to buy the whole world a coke, well I'd like to buy the whole world a good 5-10 minute laugh.
Preferably at the exact same time.
Eyeliner Magic
Every time I get a zit on my upper lip I am ridiculously tempted to color it in with my eyeliner. Then I'd look just like Cindy Crawford, or some other mole sporting famous woman. I've tried it once or twice, just for fun, washing it off before leaving the house. It's amazing how different a mole on your upper lip can make you feel. I felt...empowered.
Weird I know.
But you should try giving yourself a mole on your upper lip and see how it feels. You suddenly feel tres chic. French woman sexy.
Trust me.
The only reason I haven't worn this in public is because I imagine a scenario like the one in Robin Hood: Men In Tights.
"Wasn't your mole on the other side of your face?"
But then I would get to quote that classic line and make the poor schmuck who asked me turn beet red--
"I HAVE A MOLE?!?!?"
Weird I know.
But you should try giving yourself a mole on your upper lip and see how it feels. You suddenly feel tres chic. French woman sexy.
Trust me.
The only reason I haven't worn this in public is because I imagine a scenario like the one in Robin Hood: Men In Tights.
"Wasn't your mole on the other side of your face?"
But then I would get to quote that classic line and make the poor schmuck who asked me turn beet red--
"I HAVE A MOLE?!?!?"
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Miracle Polish!
All my life I been back and forth with nailpolish. I like it when it's on, but it chips so easily, the upkeep of it, the way it screams "I'M HIGH MAINTENANCE" to the world, not to mention I usually fudge it up before it even dries. Usually there's one month out of every year decide I'd like to start wearing nailpolish again and then it just does not last very long. The filing, the clipping, the cuticle cutting! What a horrible way to spend an evening.
This past March was the month of this year I decided to try wearing nailpolish again. It was a sunny week and the first warm breeze blew threw my hair and I just knew I had to go buy a fun spring nailpolish. And it was there, gentle reader, in the nailpolish aisle at Walgreens, that I discovered a miracle polish. It is called Sally Hansen Insta-Dri Fast Dry Nail Color. I fell in love. The difference this time, is that I'm still in love with it! I've been painting my nails for about 6 months now and have yet to get tired of it!
Normally I go for the bright colored nailpolish:
Snappy Sorbet
Mint Sprig
Mango Motion
Blue Blast
Sonic Bloom
Racin' Red
Lively Lilac
This past March was the month of this year I decided to try wearing nailpolish again. It was a sunny week and the first warm breeze blew threw my hair and I just knew I had to go buy a fun spring nailpolish. And it was there, gentle reader, in the nailpolish aisle at Walgreens, that I discovered a miracle polish. It is called Sally Hansen Insta-Dri Fast Dry Nail Color. I fell in love. The difference this time, is that I'm still in love with it! I've been painting my nails for about 6 months now and have yet to get tired of it!
Normally I go for the bright colored nailpolish:
But now I have discoverd Expresso. My current favorite color. It annoys me that Sally Hansen spells espresso wrong, but then again, she continually brings me the best colors of nailpolish, so I can get over it.
Expresso
And I am so sorry that this is the best picture of it that Google would find. It isn't as pink as it looks here. I don't know how to describe it other than a mauvey brown. My brother Luke says it looks like a grama nail polish, but all I know is it makes me feel like a lady.
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