Day Two Hundred and Fifty - Breast Cancer

For those of you who don't know, my mother is a survivor of breast cancer. She came into my room when I was 17 and gave me the news. I couldn't process it right away. I remember, it was a few weeks later, before she had even gone into treatment, that it hit me. I was sitting in the hallway of my highschool, helping my best friend choreograph a dance routine, that I finally just lost it and sobbed my eyes out. Two weeks later, I was on a plane to Germany. I didn't realize it at the time, but my mom shipped me off (against the advice of every single one of her 'also a mother' peers) to Europe for 8 weeks while she underwent the radiation treatment. By the time I came home, she was cured. The cancer had been removed and was gone forever.

I still tear up thinking about it. See, it's been just me and my mom against the world since I was 10. That was when my brother moved out to live with his soon to be wife. Ever since, it's been me and her against the world. I knew, even from that age, that no matter what happened, my mom and I would make it through. We had each other, and that was all we needed.

A year later, my father was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer. Complications from the radiation and chemotherapy took him from me when I was 22, 3 months before my graduation from college. I passed my last trimester on what I like to call 'pity credits'. My professors had known me for almost 4 years at that point, and though I only came to 1 in every 3 classes, I still passed each with a B. They knew me, and knew what I was capable of, and most of them knew, on some level, the crippling grief I was trying to deal with.

The point of all of this, is not to make you pity me. Many, in fact most, in this world have it much harder than I. I am phenomenally blessed in comparison. But in comparison does not make my grief, nor your pain, any less real. It does not take away from my heart being ripped from my chest as my father was taken from me, or as I fear my mother will be in time. It does not diminish the pain of losing my best friend in the process, or of wrongly interpreted prophesy. I broke. I shattered into a million pieces. But I am who I am today because of it.

The Gentleman once told me, "You are the smallest person I have ever looked up to." And that means more than I could ever express here in the blog. And the foundation that has been built on that pain is what makes me able to do what I have in the past few weeks. If it wasn't for the OSM,who, even tonight, took my hand and promised me that we would always be us, no matter the relationship we were in, or my mother, who has endlessly supported me in the past few years, or the memory of my father, or the despair that gripped me, or the grief that ripped me in two, I wouldn't be where I am. I wouldn't be who I am. This pain, and these friends, and my family, have formed such a solid foundation that I can reach, that I can stretch myself beyond where I am comfortable. For if I fall, my foundation is a solid, and comfortable place to land.

So for all of you that have been there for me, for all of you that make up the intricate lattice that is my foundation, for all of you that have held me through the questioning and tears: I say thank you. There are no words. There is only a gratitude born from my heart of hearts. You have built me up to this. You have given me wings. Thank you for giving me the ability to take flight.

Day Two Hundred and Forty Nine - The Death of Hypocrisy

Do you remember that painfully honest blog where I told you all of the things that were wrong with me? That I confessed each lie that I wore like a mask? That I came clean with the things that shamed me the most? Since then, I have been doing a lot of internal dissection; figuring out the real me vs. who I wanted you to think the real me was.

And a lot of that came into clarification with The Gentleman. With The Gentleman, I decided to make a massive change in my life. For the longest time, I tried to live up to the standards that were set by my favorite theologians, namely Mark Driscoll and John Piper. Please do not misunderstand me, I respect those men more than I have words for. But Mark Driscoll is in his early 40's, and Piper in his late 60's. They are amazing men who have spent decades of their life in pursuit of God and preaching His gospel. They are humbling and inspiring. But I am not there yet. And it is pointless, nay, damaging, for me to think that I am, or can be, there yet. Driscoll alone has 2 decades on me, Piper over 4. They have lived, they have experienced things I can only dream of at this point. Their convictions come from the heart, not from books, but from life lived and God experienced. I can no longer pretend that we are the same. I am not there yet. And I am exhausted from pretending that I am.

So with The Gentleman, I made a massive shift to follow my heart, and my gut, and do something that would make me happy, even if I didn't know where it was going or where it would end. And so far, I am blissful. I am a changed woman. The OSM will tell you. I underwent a huge change when I just let my head fall back, and let my hair down, and relaxed into it. I feel as if my soul finally released itself in a great song of praise, letting go and singing at the top of my lungs, regardless of the lyrics that came out, or even the tune. I just sang. From my heart. Anger and freedom, frustration and worship, beauty and ashes, newness and loss. I'm singing. I'm singing with my whole heart for the world to see. This is the real me.

The me who decides each moment what I believe and what I don't; the me who sees what my true convictions are by my actions, not by my thoughts. The me who is decided based solely on my experiences, on my lessons, on my life. Me, for the love of God, and only me. 


I don't care if you understand, though I want you to. I want you to understand what I'm doing, and why, but if you don't... it's not going to stop me. This is my life and I have to live it in the only way I can. Too long have I been skirting in the shadows, too long have I hung back, afraid. Now I grasp at this life, now I cling to it. I know what is to come, that belief remains unshaken, but until then, there are many things to try. Many mistakes to be learned. Many moments to have beautiful realizations.

Many moments to look back on and cherish, to hold close to my heart. Things that are only for me, this life that is mine. I cannot give away something I do not own. I long to give my life, fully and completely, to God my Father. But I am not there yet. I cannot give away something that I have not yet had.

And so this is both my prayer and my movement: that I have a life made full, so that I can do with it what I choose.

Day Two Hundred and Forty Eight - Everything Is New

So tonight the OSM and I shared a few more hidden hours. After almost a month without seeing each other, it was beyond time to catch up. And seeing him was far more enlightening than I had anticipated. As I gushed about The Gentleman, his smile grew bigger and bigger. "It's so good to see you smitten." He said. And he's right, I am. I am smitten with The Gentleman. And to see the OSM be so happy for me was... wonderful.

One of the reasons I had put off dating for so long is my reluctance to give up my good guy friends. They are wonderful, and I can't imagine my life without them. And then The Gentleman came along, and trusted me enough to keep them. Even my hidden hours. I can have both. In this particular case, I get to have my cake and eat it too.

As we talked, the OSM and I covered many topics. One of which was my frustration with God. Just beneath the surface, I have discovered a boiling anger. One I talk myself out of constantly, using reason to try and defuse the discontent. He is God. I trust Him. I know His ways are higher than mine. I know He loves me. I know He works for my good. And yet... prayer after prayer gets 'NO' over and over and I can't figure out why. I don't understand why He doesn't let me move forward. At this, the OSM sighed.

Firstly, he said, look at your life. Do you see all the newness? You're in a new relationship, and it makes you glow. You're in a new job that you've been with for less than 60 days. Your life is flooded with newness. And it made me stop and think. He was right. My life is flooded with newness. New experiences. New people. New situations. New job opportunities. So much newness.

He looked at me and smiled, "I understand your frustration," He said. "But I've learned that God often uses the TTT method."

"The TTT method?" I asked, curious.

"Touch, Tap, Two by Four." I couldn't help but laugh, he was right. "At first, God touches you, brushes you lightly on the skin. 'There is something I want to show you,' He says. But you ignore Him. Then He taps you, 'No, really, you need to see this.' But you respond again, 'Yea, God, next Monday works great for us to have this conversation.' And so He sighs, and smacks you in the head with a two by four and then He has your full attention, which is the only thing He's been asking for this whole time."

And isn't that how it works so often? We're so stubborn, that it's only the lessons by 2x4 that we learn. And sometimes, even with the TTT lessons, we need 2x4 after 2x4 to fully learn it. Sometimes, our frustration with God stems not from Him, but from our own density.

I'm grateful for the tap that the OSM gave me tonight. I don't want a 2x4 to make me realize all the newness that has defined my life of late. His tap was enough to get me to realize it. If you're in the same situation as me, praying for newness over and over again in the midst of frustration; please take a look around and tell me if everything isn't made new. Look at your life, look at who you are, and see if it isn't made new.

See if you aren't a wildly different person than you were than when you first started praying for newness. See, please see, how much you've moved.

Day Two Hundred and Forty Seven - OLYMPICS

Look, I took a sick day at work. And I HATE taking sick days. I would much rather be working. I do not want to feel hot and cold and run a fever and be achy and feel horrible. I'd much rather take 8 hours of work and making money than a wasted day in my bed. I only told you all that to explain why today's is so very short. I have a pounding headache to top it off. However, it's July 27th, 2012. And that means one thing: the Olympics started today. I'm watching the opening ceremonies right now, and they are inspiring. The national pride that radiates from each nation is palpable. In this world full of war it is a great shining light of peace and innovation and the good type of national pride. It's one of my absolute favorite things. I will watch so much Olympic coverage in the next 17 days, I will only dream in 3 colors. Gold, silver, and bronze. Let's go divers, swimmers, gymnasts, and runners. Let's bring home the gold, and even if we don't, let's cheer for the ones for the ones who do.

Day Two Hundred and Forty Six - Heatwave

For anyone who hasn't noticed how incredibly hot it's been for the entire summer... well you're more of a hermit than I am. I have the day off, and so started my mornings the way I prefer, on my porch, in my hammock. It was 83 degrees and there was a gentle breeze. And it felt delightfully cool. Like, as good as a glass of ice cold iced tea.

Because it's all about perspective. When it's been 104, 83 feels amazing. When life is great, the little things seem bigger. When life sucks, the little blessings make all the difference. Always try to keep in mind, it can always get so much worse. Always keep life compared to absolute and total crap - because in perspective - life is wonderful. And that's the truth of life. It's wonderful. No matter how much it sucks, no matter how hard it rains, no matter how many times it knocks you down, it's wonderful.

Never, never forget that.

Day Two Hundred and Forty Five - 30,000 Steps

Sometimes, life can be a bitch, and we have a saying for that. For every step we take forward, sometimes, it seems like life makes us take 3 back. But... that's not true. Today, I took 30,000 literal steps (14.5 miles, but not like anyone was counting). And no matter how many times I had to turn around and go in the opposite direction, those steps still counted toward my total. And that's sort of my point in today's mini blog - going backward isn't taking steps back. It's just more steps. Life cannot take away where you've been, the lessons you've learned, or who you've become. It can only make your goals a little harder to reach. And each day is full of steps (I'm not saying 30,000, but if I was, does even 1 step back really make a difference at that point?), some forward, some back, some to the side. Each day you learn, you grow, you move. Nothing can take that away from you. It's yours. It's you. So keep going. You'll get there. After all, if I can walk 30,000 steps in a day, then any of us can get anywhere in a reasonable amount of time, don't you think?

Day Two Hundred and Forty Four - All To Myself

This blog has really helped me be more of an open book. You can ask me anything and I'll tell you. I've got nothing to hide. But recently someone incredible has come into my life in a brand new way. We've been friends for years, but now we're more and it's one of the best decisions I've made in a very long time. And I could write an entire blog about how amazing he is, and really want to, but he's not as much as an open book as I am, and more importantly, the world doesn't need to know. A few people do, but not the world. The world can hear about what I learn, and how I grow, and my many, many realizations about life and people. 

But The Gentleman? He's just for me. I get to enjoy him and not make it a headline. Because it's ours. And we're happy together. And for the vast majority of my audience, there it ends. I'm sure I'll write about the weekends spent with him, and our adventures together, and especially the food. Yay for food. But what we are, and who he is, and all the little things (and the big things) that he does to make me laugh and smile and sigh (with contentment), those are just for me. I'm keeping The Gentleman all to myself. 

Day Two Hundred and Forty Three - Living Life

My phone was pretty much silent today, well, from my end anyway. Because I was too busy living my life to be talking about it. And I like it that way. I spent the day at work, the evening on a boat, and the night watching the new Batman movie (which is amazing!). It was wonderful and relaxing, though I am fairly sure my kidney's started failing during the movie as it didn't matter how badly I had to pee, I wasn't about to miss anything. But that's beside the point.

The point is that for the longest time I pretty much lived like a hermit. Which has it's time and place and purpose, but I would only do things I knew with people I knew. Lately, I've been stepping out of that box a lot more and my life has filled up with wonderful experiences. Listening to live music, Sunday Fundays, eating new foods (I do not recommend raw squid), trying new things, going out and living life.

The thing for me was that I said 'no' so often to invitations that eventually people stopped asking. Not because I wasn't invited, but because they weren't going to waste their breath. The difference for me was to start saying yes, and get uncomfortable, and live life socially. Even introverts are social creatures. Even we need to get out and have some fun.

I hate to reinforce the message of a Jim Carrey movie here, but he did kind of have a point. Start saying yes. Not to everything. Say no to crack and women (or men) of questionable morals and people who don't respect you and all that jazz. But start saying yes to things that are good, they just might make you a little uncomfortable. You'll survive, I promise. And your life will be more full than you ever thought it could be, much faster than you could anticipate.

Start saying yes.

Day Two Hundred and Forty Two - Filters

When you spend three days with three guys moving an entire trailer and two cars full of stuff, annoyance and frustration are pretty much guaranteed. I was actually shocked about how little there was this weekend. In general, everyone got along really well.

But there was one part of it that just drove me nuts. Don't get me wrong, the guy who annoyed the ever living patience out of me is actually a very nice guy. He's just going through some rough stuff. That being said, for the love of God, learn to keep it to yourself.

Look, I realize that guys are far more visual and far more sexual than women. Especially me. I'm not very visual at all, and less than ragingly sexual. Even so, I understand that when I hang out with guys there is going to be the occassional, "Wow, she's hot," or, "Did you see that ass?" or, "I want to do dirty, dirty things to that girl based solely on her physical appearance." However, if those things are the ONLY things that come out of your mouth, even the guys we're hanging out with will quickly lose their patience. To try and be less annoyed, I asked him to use the word 'smile' whenever he thought the word 'panties' or 'ass' and the word 'eyes' whenever he thought the word 'boobs'. At least while we were in public. I was so, so wrong. It was worse. I'm not sure how, or why, but it was so. much. worse.

However, the problem isn't that he doesn't have a filter. He's got the wrong filter. He is actually a fairly decent human being. He is actually looking for a sweet girl that won't break his heart and run around on him. But he has no game because he just eye rapes every girl in the bar, and then uses horrible, demeaning one liners on them. He'll never even get a first date if he doesn't STOP filtering the sweet into asshole. He's been hurt, but he'll be alone for ever if he refuses to put himself out there. If you want a sweet girl, show her your sweet side. The only girl he could get at this point is one that he paid, and even then, I'm fairly sure she'd demand a pay increase after the first half hour.

I guess my point is simply to stop filtering yourself into destruction. I know I do it, and I know we all do it. We all put up fronts that are tougher than we really are. None of us want to be hurt in the same way we were before. But we can't live behind walls, we can't let our filters be built by fear. Step out, be true to yourself. I'm not saying not to be careful or to devote yourself to the first person who comes along. But you'll never find who you're looking for by being the tough guy who has no heart. Just like you'll never get the job by telling the interviewer that you're actually a terrible employee.

Day Two Hundred and Forty One - Class

Sometimes, when living where I do (and those of you who live there with me will understand to a certain extent) I sometimes lose sight of what it means to be classy. Myself completely included. Please, please understand I do not mean 'wealth' when I say 'class'. You can have class regardless of wealth, and you can have wealth regardless of class.

But this weekend, it was delightfully refreshing to be reminded. I spent the weekend moving The Gentleman. Which does make me sad, I'd rather he not live 3 hours away from me, but it's a wise move on his part. But being around him for three days straight really reminded me of what it's like to act with class. I watched him act and react with calm and consideration day after day after day. I tried not to just stare at him. I was mesmerized.

And my reaction was to immediately act as a mirror to him. I followed his lead to the best of my ability. Being around him just makes me feel as if there is hope for humanity. And also as if I need to just be a classier person. But not in a bad way, I never felt bad about who I was. I was simply inspired to be better.

And that's what class does. Real class. Real class inspires you. It inspires everyone you're around. It's not pretentious or stuffy. It doesn't flaunt or taunt. It doesn't belittle or discourage. It does uplift and engage. It is considerate and compassionate. It is gentle. It is unobtrusive. It is calming.

Class is not something you're born with. Class is something you learn. Something you can only learn by example. And that's what he does, he shows me all the time how to treat people well. And he treats me so well. And it's not because he's trying. It's because of who he is. Because class is something that becomes part of you, and something you don't lose over time.

If you find someone that inspires you to be better, don't just let them walk in and out of your life. Learn from that person, and shine brighter because of it. I could certainly use more class. The world could always use more class.

Day Two Hundred and Forty - Happiness

Happiness is... cooking dinner together. Playing two different video games while sitting next to each other. Playing the same video game, trash talking, while not really caring who wins. Sitting on a porch listening to the best live music I've ever heard, even though it is not even close to my usual genre. Having the best bartender in the state make my drinks virgin for no other reason than affection. Being brought iced coffee because I was yawning too much. Not having to say a word because my mouth is so full of sushi all I can get out is the 'm' part of 'yum'. Laughing so hard I'm fairly sure I have rice stuck in my nasal passages. Sharing an excitement for life. Sharing a love of getting enough sleep. Appreciating the differences as well as the similarities. Feeling more comfortable in my own skin, with my own laugh, when we're together. Never being ashamed of my dorkiness. Our friends getting along. Playing spades and not getting mad because I busted nil. Twice. Just wanting to spend time together and not caring what we're doing in the meantime.

Needless to say... it's been the happiest week I've had in years. And for the next three days I anticipate being nothing but utterly blissful. 

Day Two Hundred and Thirty Nine - The Small Stuff

I did something extraordinarily romcom today. I let a dream affect my morning. Well, the hallucinations didn't exactly help. Let me explain.

I've loved this week. Each and every day has been fantastic, though exhausting. I haven't had more than 6 hours of sleep a night since Friday night. Which, if we've ever met, you understand has made me a bit of a zombie. I was a little scared about driving to work today because well... I hadn't exactly woken up yet. And even after I had, I'm fairly sure I hallucinated a solid half of my day. That or the hospital is suddenly overrun with unicorns and hilarious leprechauns. Which would make my freaking day. But I do indeed doubt they'll be there tomorrow. Anyway, back to the point. I had a dream that I got a small novel of a text message from the Gentleman and frankly, it was the only reason I decided to open my eyes this morning. I reached for my phone, my eyes still closed, but a smile on my face, hit my snooze, and cracked an eye to read the message. There was no message. It was crushing. Nothing. Nada. Not even a freaking facebook update. It took every ounce of delusional willpower to get myself out of bed and get ready for work. 

Now, I realize that I was being silly. It was a dream. I cannot be upset that I dreamed the Gentleman did something and then did not in real life. It is absurd. It still sucked. 

Luckily for my sanity, (well, most of it, cause the leprechauns were funny) the OSM came in with a mood altering text to perk me right back into normalcy. I'm aware it was silly to let a dream affect my mood, but when I'm that tired, there is very little I can do about it. And frankly, I'm proud that I handled it as well as I did. The Gentleman had been out last night saying a few farewells (I'll catch you up during the weekend blogs, I'm sure) and I was not about to disturb him in the wee hours of the morning when he had to work a full day. And I functioned completely normally (other than trying not to converse with the funny leprechauns when other people was around because hallucinations or not, I was damn sure I was the only one who could see them) at work, and even managed to hustle. All the same, a dream did affect me. And a single text turned it around. (Thank you, OSM. Hope you got your wish.) 

The secret of it all is that it's a two headed coin. I don't like the fact that a silly little disappointment in the morning can bring me down, even a little bit. But I love the fact that a single gesture can turn my entire day around. I think a lot of us are more like that than we'd like to think. Sure it's all about positive thinking and not sweating the small stuff, but it's also all about the small stuff. Any day is better and easier when someone else helps, even just a little. The little things that have no right to affect us in such big ways are the things our life is ultimately composed of. And we keep trying to not sweat the small stuff, and yet cherish the little things and treasure them up in our hearts. Because with a heart full of little things, we can make it through anything. 

Day Two Hundred and Thirty Eight - Common Denominator

Also known as: stepping outside of my comfort zone without even knowing it. Way to be me. Tonight, as we all know, is Tuesday and thusly Erica night. Erica and I happen to share a deep and forever love of the card game Spades. We have been looking for two friends to join us in this for... well... years. Within the last week, we happen to have found them. So the four of us got together tonight and played Spades. It was glorious.

It wasn't until everyone left though, that I realized a rather shocking truth. I was the common denominator in the group. Granted, Erica and Marlise know each other, but not well enough (I believe) to have spent time together without a mutual friend, at least before tonight. And The Gentleman was there solely because I knew him. And... it went smashingly. We were laughing, we were sharing, we were enjoying each other. It was absolutely fantastic.

See, I used to have a number of different friend groups that never really mingled. Now, all of my friend groups are slowly coming together and now I remember why having one solid group with a number of spectacular individuals made for such an amazing summer a few years back. Instead of trying to be the me that best fits with each group, (and thusly selecting who I hung out with based on which side of me was dominant at the time), I get to be all of me at once, and still fit in with everyone. It's incredibly liberating.

By having different views on life and religion, having vastly different personalities, hobbies, backgrounds, and aspirations, the 'box' that a group is usually defined by vanishes. It isn't a Christian group as not all of the friends are Christian, though some are. It isn't a guy group or a girl group. It is neither defined by alcohol use or abstinence. Frankly, if I had to use a single term to 'define' this group it would simply be 'interesting'.

That is the common denominator. And because there is no label, there is no box, and no fear of going outside of it. It allows each person to be fully themselves, rather than putting the focus on any one side of them. It allows for... wholeness.

I guess I have nothing to wrap this up with other than thankfulness. I am so grateful to the amazing people that fill my life. So thankful that they, through their acceptance of their own complexity, have brought me closer to accepting mine. And have helped me see the beauty in others'. And the best part is... there is no end in sight.

Day Two Hundred and Thirty Seven - Tomorrow

I feel like I've been playing catch up for days now. Life has just been so full (of awesome) that I haven't had time for my usual routine and I'm still behind. But for the next two days, my routine will get back on schedule. Tomorrow is Tuesday, after all, Erica day. We're making banana bread. And it'll feel really good to get to spend some time in my kitchen. I want to do laundry and pick up my room and living room as well. They only need an hour or two of attention and I'm more than willing to give it. After Thursday, my routine goes right out the window again.

And that's the thing: when you add someone new into your life, your routine goes through a sort of overhaul. It's not thrown out completely, I'd lose my mind without any sort of routine. But it needs adjustment to absorb the changes before it'll even out again. Like today - today was supposed to be dedicated to domestic bliss. Instead, it was dedicated to fixing my car (Julia has AC again!) and talking to friends to give an outlet to my numerous emotions. I needed today just as much as I need to do laundry tomorrow.

And tomorrow will deal with itself. Too much of my routine is spent worrying about tomorrow. Don't get me wrong, having tomorrow prepared for is one thing. But it'll take care of itself. Especially if I don't hit snooze. Because TODAY what I need the most right now isn't a packed lunch, but a good sleep.

I know I'll get a handle on all of these changes, and I wouldn't go back if I could. I love how my life is changing right now. Tomorrow will take care of itself, and I will take care of today. That's all I need to know right now. And it is more than enough.

Day Two Hundred and Thirty Six - A Cup Of Good Coffee

If you don't have an obsession with coffee, this blog may not make a lot of sense. If you do, then it'll make a vast deal more sense. Here's to the coffee lovers!

A good cup of coffee is complex. It lures you in with an aroma. Especially when groggy with sleep, and your eyes won't quite focus, you follow your nose. And the sound of hot coffee pouring is simply a delight. You know the goodness is coming. You raise it to your lips, inhale deeply one last time, and taste it. And it's heaven on earth. Sometimes, I add cream and sugar, to make it taste just right. Sometimes, I like it black. Sometimes, I just want a chai tea with half and half. Doesn't really matter, I just love coffee. And Chai Tea counts. So there.

Granted, when I was a kid, I could not for the life of me understand why my parents were so insistent on this morning routine. They drank nasty brown stuff like it was ambrosia and told me in time I'd understand. As a child, I laughed at this. If I wanted to wake up, like they told me it woke them up, I'd have a pop, thank you. Now as an adult the thought of an overly sweet carbonated beverage in the morning is less than appealing. But the thought of a hot cup of coffee is bliss. Funny how things change.

It's not like I woke up one day and realized I liked the taste of coffee in the morning, it was a slow evolution. First I liked really sugary, sweet coffee. I'm not even sure you could call it coffee. There was more sugar and cream than actual brew. Then I slowly progressed to lattes, with various flavors added to them. And then, just straight lattes. And then, one morning, when I was desperate for something to warm me and wake me up, and something sweet was less than appealing, I tried a black coffee. And found myself in love.

Just as my taste in coffee has evolved as I've grown up, so has my taste in men. At first I liked them sweet and carbonated. So sugary it made my dentist groan. But after trying to date that for a prolonged period of time I realized that the bubbly fades, and the sugar can turn your stomach. So I progressed. I still wanted it sweet, but not overly complex. I wanted something I knew, something that simply tasted good. I quickly grew out of that as well. Now, while I will always love my Chai Tea Lattes simply for tasting like Christmas, I prefer most of my coffee to taste more of brew than added sweeteners. I like my men to be complex, to be something that even after tasting it a hundred times, I'll still find a new flavor and enjoy it like the first time all over again. Because if the brew tastes bad, no added sweetener is going to help. If the brew tastes good, it's delicious just by itself.

I like a guy with a work ethic and motivation, but that doesn't let it take away the rest of his life. I like a guy who starts the day with rituals that are utterly foreign to me: like doing chess puzzles for fun. I like a guy who has many senses of humor, from dry to punny. I like a guy I can have casual physics conversations with. I like a guy who also drinks coffee in the morning and understands the importance of it. So as I sit here, and drink my coffee, I cannot help but smile. Yea. I like that guy a lot.

Day Two Hundred and Thirty Five - The Steep Learning Curve of Excellent People

I feel like I've been rather speechless over the last few days, and tried to fill in the blog anyway. I'm sorry about that, I just am not ready to talk about what is really occupying my mind. Right now, it's just for me. 

But... I'm learning to like surprises. I've been surprised more times than I can count this week. Each and every single time it has been pleasant. More than pleasant. The curl your toes and grin sort of good. The catch yourself daydreaming while waiting for the elevators sort of good. The calm that reaches from the tips of your fingers to the top of your head and everywhere in between sort of good. 

It feels so strange, to have so many good things happen to me each day. To be rather lavished with affection. Genuine affection. To feel so very wanted. But most importantly, to feel as if I am wanted for myself. Not for who I try to be, but the me that comes out anyway. My boundless enthusiasm for the most random things. That little patch of hair that I can never get to not curl like an absurd 80's do. My deep love of Morgan Freeman's voice explaining the laws of physics to me. My delight in mildly offensive jokes. 

And it's freeing. To have the little and the big things alike be so appreciated. It's like an open invitation to be myself all the time. Which... makes it easier to be myself all of the time. And to revel in it. And to want everyone else to be who they are, because they are SO much more interesting that way. 

All of this is from the steep learning of excellent people. I love who I've surrounded myself with, all of them. And I can't wait for them to all get to know each other a little more. Nothing would make me happier. 

Two Hundred and Thirty Four - Foodies

I love foodies. I'm now getting to the point where I'm having more and more trouble being friends with people who aren't. Last night, I ate steak smothered with crab and cheese stuffed mushroom, and grilled asparagus, and garlic bread. It. Was. Delicious. On so many levels. And was on the verge of disbelief when I was told someone had found that very meal unappealing.

The combination of flavors, though I'd never had them before, were mesmerizing. They played on my tongue, constantly bringing out new flavors. I wanted to consume everything on that plate. And anything else that may have been put in front of me. I love trying new things. 

And I've noticed that being adventurous with the food on the plate more easily translates into being adventurous in life. To be active, to do, to try new things. 

And I love that I'm surrounded by adventurous foodies. They have made my life so much fuller. So, there's a lot that goes into my shock when all you ever eat for lunch is PB&J and a granola bar. Here. Have some gorgonzola with a bit of strawberry. Please. Just try it. 

Day Two Hundred and Thirty Three - Good To Be Back

Tonight was unexpectedly fantastic. Sort of out of the blue an old friend showed up on my porch. And I have to be honest here, was so much cooler than I had anticipated. Don't get me wrong, she's always been beautiful and down to earth. But to find out that while our deepest passions are similar, so are our dirty minds, was just priceless. On top of it, we both have interests in Des Moines that I highly anticipate will take us there together fairly often this summer. Tonight just could not have gotten any better.

Now, as the summer stretches on before me in the throws of the unknown, at least I'm looking forward to it rather than staring at the days blankly wondering what on earth I'm going to do with them.

And yet... as I reflect on the genius that is playing spades with good friends, I cannot help but realize that, unfortunately, this night will have its consequences. Tomorrow, I might lose a friend that I will always have a special place for in my heart. The break will not be my choice, but I'll concede to it nonetheless. And perhaps, it is indeed what is best for both of us. I can't handle any more of his passive aggressive emotional bullshit, and he can't handle me going on a date with someone other than him.

It is my hope that the unnecessary drama will end there, but I'm not holding my breath. I don't understand why two people trying their hand at happiness should create so much drama, but I'm not ignorant of the fact that it might. I just want to take this small opportunity to express how much I don't give a shit. If you think it's a good thing: good for you! I'm glad you see things similarly to me and think this is a fantastic thing. If you don't: good for you! You have formed your own opinion and have every right to it. It's just not going to affect me in the least. I have already consulted the people closest to me, whom I love and trust and value their insights, and have received a full blessing.

As I take a deep breath and finish tonight's thought, I cannot help but smile and think 'It's good to be back'. Doing my own thing, learning my own way, and enjoying each step of the way. A few steps forward and a few steps backward and you've got yourself a solid cha-cha. Because life is a dance and I've been on the bench a little too long. I'm happy. I'm at peace. I'm excited. And nothing and no one is going to take that away from me.

Day Two Hundred and Thirty Two - A Dramaless Day

Sometimes, being an adult sucks. There are bills and responsibilities that they kind of told you about but you didn't really realize what it was going to be like. And it is nothing like what you thought it was going to be like. But sometimes, being an adult is awesome. Today was one of those days. Let me explain.

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I was exhausted, I didn't feel good, a banking error did not go in my favor, and I seriously considered calling in for a mental health day. But a banking error not in my favor just means that I needed that 8 hours even more. So I put on my big girl panties and toughed it out. 

But it wasn't even toughing it. I listened to good music on my way to work and drank a cup of coffee and resolved to have a good day. And it was a good day. I got to do my favorite part of my job for the whole day. That helped. When it came time for lunch, which has become theological/philosophical/literary discussions with Justin The-overly-cheerful-boiler-room-guy, I apologized for being a little over the top yesterday. I was afraid I'd offended my lunch time friend. He assured me that I hadn't, and our discussion picked up exactly where it had left off the day before. No. Drama. 

The most cranky co-worker in the world has yet to find a way to be outright bitchy to my good natured cheerfulness, which is not only entertaining to me, but dramaless. I genuinely try to be kind and helpful to her, and genuinely try not to giggle as it flusters the hell out of her. Drama. Less. 

But what I really liked most about today was how silent my phone stayed for most of it. Because I'm working and because my friends are working and it's the middle of the week and we all have lives. When my phone doesn't go off it's not because I'm being ignored, it's because everyone else is as busy as I am. Probably busier, if I'm going to be honest. For the longest time it seemed that every guy I was interested in became some sort of leech, wanting to be in every moment of my life because unlike him, I actually had one. But now, as an adult, I find myself surrounded by people who have their own lives, their own friends, and we simply realize that we are a welcome addition to each others lives. 

There is no saving anyone, there is no fixing anything, there is just a life lived - sometimes together. Most of all, I was thankful for two things. 1) We stay in each other's lives for the very simple reason that we want to be. Drama. Less. 2) In the very short amount of time that I just started being blatantly honest with people my life has gotten much better. I cannot stress enough to just tell people what's on your heart. It's a lot less drama then I thought it would be. Rather than create it, it got rid of it. 

Somedays, I love being an adult. 

Day Two Hundred and Thirty One - It's Time To Get Lost

I'm sitting in a meadow. I can see for a mile in every direction, though just beyond is forests all around, and beyond those, mountains, and sometimes when the breeze blows just right, I swear I can taste the salt of the sea in the air. But I am not in the woods, nor climbing the mountains, nor facing the sea. I am sitting. In a meadow. Where I can see all that tries to come close. I hate being startled. And yet... yet I love being startled. In those moments where I have completely lost control and flounder for a footing... those pull at me, tempting me to come play, to come live for a bit in the world of surprises. But no, no. I always put my foot down, scold the person who startled me, and try to fit them into my neat little world. Which takes all the life out of life.

But there is a reason I've built this place for myself. There is a reason why I play God over this meadow. And admittedly, I only play at it. Even in this place I've made I don't control the sun that shines, or the green that grows, or the storms or the calms or the beauties that arise like friendship and love and growth. No, because if it was up to me, it'd be sunny all the time and wouldn't change at all. Back to the point, I did this all for a reason.

A long time ago, I lost myself in someone. I wanted to make him happy so badly that I started changing who I was to be who I thought he wanted me to be. In the end, I didn't like the person I'd become, he certainly didn't, and it took me close to a year to find myself again. I never, ever wanted to lose myself like that. I never wanted to get lost period. I'd lay the path out over and over again in my mind, each time seeing a new improvement so that the road would be smooth and my steps sure. But... I never left the meadow to venture into everything that lays beyond. I was never certain I had the path down, I was never certain I could follow it. There is still so much I don't know...

But tonight, as I was praying about these fears, God was very gentle, but very firm in His response. And this is what I heard, "I will never lose you, and you will never lose Me, but it is very much time for you to get lost." And I'm ready. Oh, God, am I ready. Let's do it. I'm so sick of this meadow, of everything being so damn tightly controlled, of me being so damn tightly controlled, that I'm running toward it. Yes. I want to get lost. 

I want to do what I want to do, not analyzing it down to the end and then making a judgement but just leaping because it looks fun. To not be ruled by what I ought to do or ought not to do but to just DO. To live and experience and really, honestly, give up control. Because God and I cannot be in control. Either I am or He is and I've done a fuck up job of it. I'm letting go of the reins. I'm getting lost. I'm doing what I want to do and trusting that He has a hand in those desires. 

Because when it comes down to it, I don't want the things I know are bad for me. I don't want to go get hammered (even if it's only on wine) at the bar and hook up with somebody. I don't want to be reckless with my heart or anyone elses. I don't want to go start shooting heroin into my eye balls. I want to look stupid, I want to try new things, I want to just be me. Not who I want to be or think I ought to be or who anyone else thinks I ought to be. I just want to be me.

And let me just... finish with this. Only when I am being me and loving being me do I REALLY want you to be you and love you for being you. I don't want you to be just like me. I am more than enough of me. I want you to be you, and I thank you for the privilege of knowing you. You are awesome, and I'm sorry for the times that I've tried to fit you into a box and thank you for the times you've thrown it back at me and called me an ass. I'm not going to live in my box anymore; I'm not going to put you into a box anymore. 

And I'm not going to put God in a box anymore. 

Day Two Hundred and Thirty - Just Say It

I am so happy tonight. I wrote letters, you see, to people that I love, simply telling them that I love them. Not everyone who reads this will get one, and not everyone who gets one reads this. I'm not finished writing them, though, so yours may still be coming. I only wrote two tonight. And I actually wrote an entire blog already tonight using some of the poetic details of one of them, but in the end, deleted it all and started again. Because that's... just between us. And somehow, and I realize in a very middle-school-esque fashion, when they are just between us they are somehow more sacred. And the things I wrote, even if it is juvenile, are sacred. Even if they are only sacred to me. 

I needed to tell these people that I love them, and how much I love them, and appreciate their presence in my life. The part that was incredibly freeing was realizing that I didn't need a response, I simply needed to tell them. I didn't need them to say "I love you," back, but I did need them to hear it from me. Well, read it from me. 

Sometimes, it's not about how anyone responds to how you feel. Sometimes, its just about being honest and open about it. In both instances tonight, a small part of me knew that I was opening myself up to all sorts of possible hurts. But I didn't care. A) I trust the people I've written to. B) So be it. My feelings cannot be used as a weapon against me when I'm not asking for anything in return. Don't return them, it doesn't matter. It won't change how I feel. 

So if you have something to say to someone, just say it. You'll have a lot more peace when you do. I did. Even though not every letter will be all rainbows and butterflies. I said some hard things today, things that were hard for me to be honest about anyway. And am so incredibly glad I did. Because if I had not said anything and let them leave... I know I would have regretted the words unspoken for a very, very long time. And life is simply too short to have such big regrets that can be remedied with such small words.

Day Two Hundred and Twenty Nine - Because I Must

I read Jane Austen novels. I watch Disney movie classics. I watch period romances. I watch Love Actually over and over and over again. Because I must.

Because there is a heart of flesh deep in my chest somewhere that is determined not to lose faith in love. In love stories. In romance, even the little ones without much consequence or intrigue. Somehow, by watching, by reading, by knowing the love of others, it helps me not to lose faith that I am still capable of it. That not all hope is lost.

The same is true when it comes to faith. Sometimes, it all seems so hopeless. I feel so incredibly unfinished, and sometimes without hope that I'll ever get better at life. But life is just as full of faith as it is of love stories. It is full of miracles, it is full of wonder and answered prayer. Enough to keep the soul in hope, the same way a love story can keep the heart in hope.

And it reminds me, every good story is full of unfulfilled hopes and strife, until they're not. Every prayer is unanswered, until it is. That's just how it works. So I will keep reading, keep watching, keep listening and being a romantic and full of hope. Because it's who I am. Because I must.

Day Two Hundred and Twenty Eight - Perspective

My life situation hasn't changed in 3 years. I live paycheck to paycheck. My roommate is my mom. I owe money on student loans, and I'm slowly paying off my car. I live in a tiny apartment. I'm still single. I don't have a stable job. I'm planning on going back to school. I hate it. This is not what I envisioned my life would be at 24.

My life has changed drastically in the last three years. I am a completely different person. I love and am loved. I love the way no two days of my life are ever the same. I adore living with my mom. I love that she and I are so close and get along so well. After getting a 4 year degree that cost 120k, I owe less than 10k now and will have it all paid off by 2015, my car as well. Living in tiny apartments has taught me how to live with little and yet feel as if I have it all. I am simply not ready to be anything other than single. I've got a job. I'm excited about going back to school to try something new that may prove to be stable and finally find my own way. This is not a bad place to find myself in at 24. 

It's all about perspective. When I was a kid, everyone said I was going to do absolutely amazing things. Change the world. Be a high powered lawyer or start my own company or... I actually don't know what they thought I was going to be but I guarantee you it wasn't a broke girl still trying to figure out what she wants to do with her life. You know what they never talked about though? They never talked about the friendships I would have. They never talked about the time it takes to strengthen character. They never talked about the fulfillment that comes from finding my own way. They never talked about how, though I want to have so many adventures, deep in my heart, I am a home body and delight in domestic pursuits. They never took me into the equation at all. Only my potential. (Yes, dear OSM, I am coming to hate that word almost as much as you.) They defined me by what I could be, and a job.

Why? Why does what we do to earn money define us so heavily in this culture? 

I still couldn't tell you exactly what I want. But I can tell you that fulfillment doesn't come by fulfilling everyone's expectations of who they thought you would be. Or even who you thought you would be. 

Day Two Hundred and Twenty Seven - Ego

A few days ago I spent some time at a dear friend's house. He makes wonderful music with a guitar and his voice and doesn't know a single Oasis song. I love it. But something happened there that was quite unexpected. His 'lady friend' (she doesn't get girlfriend as they're not official and he's moving so they won't be official) was there and I could not have cared less. The more the merrier. She seemed like a very chill girl and I've never had a problem with her. Until the territory war began.

*For guys who have no idea what I'm talking about, allow me to as briefly as I can, explain. When two or more girls feel territorial about the same guy, they have to hash it out, girl style. Which is something so nuanced I couldn't possibly hope to explain it in a paragraph, or even a hundred days full of the blog. It exists, and it is enough. The winner of such a hash out, however, is ironically, decided by neither girl, but by the guy they are fighting over. Whoever he shows the most attention and endearment to, wins.

The territory war began early in the night, and from the start, I conceded. I had nothing to prove. He was a friend of mine, that I love dearly, but had no reason to fight over. She, after all, had ever reason to win. But then, as the night wore on, even I could not be ignorant of the fact that despite her efforts, I was clearly winning. I was getting the deferential treatment. She was less than happy. I was over the moon. Oh heavens, was my ego unexpectedly boosted.

I rode that wave for a few days, just letting it feel good. Sure, part of me felt bad for winning a war I had waved a white flag to, for winning a war I had absolutely no right to win. It felt good none the less.

And then tonight, while hanging out with the same male friend, he was preoccupied with an out of town friend. So preoccupied, that I was pretty much ditched for an hour and a half. At first, my ego was wounded by it. But then I realized the compliment that it was. He is not motivated by attraction. He is motivated by affection. He gives preference to friends. He values people for who they are, not for what they can give him.

Being singled out, even for a night, to be the friend of preference was a greater compliment than being an object of attraction could ever be. I am humbled. I am grateful. I hope to one day be the person he sees in me. Because she must really be something special.

Day Two Hundred and Twenty Six - The Wisdom of Waiting

Today, I took the first step in a new direction, just to see what it felt like. Just to give it a little test. I was expecting the big rush of getting ready for a big change in a quick way. That... didn't happen. The first step got met with a 'nice dream, girl, unfortunately, it's gonna be a year at least. We can put you on the waiting list... but...'. I smiled, nodded, and I'm on the waiting list. Chances are slim I'll get to start this fall. Which... might work better. There are still some other things I'd like to have the time to finish up before starting down this new path. Pay off some things, save up a little, figure out how to get what I need for the classes, find a job that works with the time of the classes, etc. 

Going in and talking to an adviser today was spontaneous, but I feel better knowing what I'll need to plan for. The more I think about it, starting this a year from now is a much better idea than starting it in a month. Though I admit, when I first heard that I probably couldn't start this year, my heart sank in my chest. I really felt as if this is something I need to pursue, and it's hard to be told 'no'. But the wisdom of waiting clearly became apparent. 

I often get impatient when it comes to change. When I want it, I want it now. Once the idea is in my head, I can't get it out. Like cutting my hair. I'm chopping it all off next spring. But not until next spring. Even now that's hard for me. My brain keeps telling me, 'if you want it, do it now'. But I don't want to do it now. I want my long hair for another fall and winter, and then I want to take a crazy risk in the spring.

And it sounds a little insane, even to me. But I want to try. Like my hair, it's something I just have to try. If I don't like it, I don't have to finish. If I hate my hair, it'll grow back. But I only get this one life. I have only so much time to live it. I want to fill it with so many things. And sometimes I feel a little panicked. Surely I should have more of it figured out by now?

The thing I just have to keep reminding myself is this simple truth: I am still so very young. 

Day Two Hundred and Twenty Five - Two Sides Of The Same Coin

I plan, a lot. Mostly, it calms me down. I enjoy lists. I list everything. And yet... I have an equal love for spontaneity. I cannot tell you the amount of times that I have had my evenings all planned out just to get a random invitation and at the last minute completely change everything. I did that yesterday, actually. I was going to splurge and get wings from BWW and watch a musical with my friend. Instead, we went to a bonfire and drank delicious drinks, listened to beautiful music, and were the very definition of the word relaxed.

Because life is not made of lists. Life is made of moments. Lists aren't bad because organization isn't bad. But they are not what life is made of. And like all things in my life, I have to learn to balance organization and chaos. So I'm experimenting this week. Instead of planning out my entire week in groceries like usual, I'm going to try just going with general moods. I'm in the mood for cold salads, some of which should have fruit. So I'm just going to go the store and stay within budget and see how the week goes. Because being so tightly wound tonight damn near snapped me in half.

I made lunches and breakfasts for the next two days, did all of the dishes, folded all of the laundry, and various other little chores that needed to be done. And something in me felt like it was about to break in half. Usually cooking calms me down. This time, all I wanted to do was throw the pasta against the wall and scream at it for being such a pain in my ass. I think... I think I lost the joy I usually find in cooking because I had just over planned it, allowing no room for spontaneity.

Balance. Sometimes it is time to plan, sometimes it is time to just go with the flow, and sometimes it is time for both. Both are equally me. One is not better than the other. I embrace them both. They are good friends, not enemies. They are two sides to the same coin. Sanity. Balance.

Just like every night cannot be an early night, even if I work the next morning. Some nights have to be spent awake and enjoying the stars even if it means I need two extra cups of coffee in the morning. I must not forget that above all, all I am doing is living. And a life where I feel like I'm constantly about to snap is no life worth living.

Both. Both sides. Both are good. Both are necessary. Both make my life better, both make my life simpler, both are equally me.

Day Two Hundred and Twenty Four - Thoughts

If I had never seen an ad telling me how I ought to look, how would I feel about my body?

If I didn't define my status in society by my job, what would I do?

If I cleansed my heart from negative thoughts and emotions as often as I showered, what would I feel like?

If I stopped making excuses, how much could I accomplish in my life?

If I put as much effort into understanding people as I did into being understood by them, what would my relationships look like?

If I ACTED as though my priorities are what I SAY they are, what would my life look like?

If I stopped not doing things because I'm afraid to look stupid, how much more would I enjoy my life?

If I laughed at every opportunity, how much more would I smile?

If I allowed myself more grace, how much more grace would I extend to others?

If I got rid of everything I was saving just in case I might need it someday, how much more room would I have for the things I need right now?

Why, when I make so many mistakes, do I still always think I'm right?

If I spent one week doing only what I wanted to do and what needed to be done, what would I feel like at the end of it?

If I cried every time I felt like it, would my perception of small hurts and big hurts change at all?

If I stopped feeling guilty about yesterday, and worried about tomorrow, how would I feel about today?

Day Two Hundred and Twenty Three - Things You Ought Not Say If You Are Not An Idiot

Let's face it, dear friends, I am in a terrible mood today. I am sleep deprived, mildly hormonal, and a little bit rage filled. And just for fun, I've made a list. Of things that people say that they really shouldn't because it makes anyone sound like an idiot.

1) He don't/She don't. Stop. Just. Fucking. Stop. Go back to 3rd grade and review the difference between don't and doesn't. One is singular. The other plural. It is not that hard.

2) I seen. If you say "I seen" I will hit you in the head. HARD. Every time you say it, not only am I in pain, but everyone around you thinks, "Oh, whatever I guessed their IQ to be at, I was clearly wrong. It's 20 points lower. At least." For the love of God, you SAW it.

3) If someone you like or might like is trying to flirt with you, don't suggest they find someone else to give them a massage. You're an idiot. That was an open invitation to TOUCH them wherever you wanted to. I hope that was rejection, otherwise we'll both grieve for the opportunity you threw away.

I'm all spent on being annoyed any more today. I have things to do, my life calls. Thanks for letting me leave my frustration here, on these pages. Let's both close the page and get back to life, shall we?

Day Two Hundred and Twenty Two - Men Vs. Women

We're keeping this one short and sweet because sometimes a brief message can pack a bit more punch than a long one. There have been entire libraries written about the differences between men and women and yet neither sex seems any more enlightened than they've ever been. God knows, even hanging out with guys as much as I do, they are a complete and utter mystery. Sometimes, I wish I could understand them, even just a little. But that is a wish and will probably always remain one.

I may never understand men, but I do understand how I want to be treated. And when any man treats me contrary to that - then all either of us needs to understand is that I do not put up with that.

I think we all understand each other.