Day One - Thanksgiving

   At first, I thought this was going to be difficult. I mean, finding something significant and hopefully either enlightening or witty every day? And then I experienced Thanksgiving with my extended family and realized that every day offers up more than enough for a blog post. The real difficulty is choosing what to write about. My family's drama could definitely fill an entire blog post, but that isn't enlightening or witty, is it? Perhaps a fleeting entertainment could be derived from it, but half the joke is twenty years in the making. No, I don't think that's where I'll go. At least not today. The food was delicious, but I didn't make it, so there was no adventure there to write about, as I'm no critic. (It was delicious though, dear Aunt.) I stayed strong and didn't smoke my beloved nicotine nor indulge in any drama numbing Slivovitz. But again, I draw no inspiration from these things today. Which made me think. Where does my inspiration come from?

That's when I knew what I had to write about today; my very own Sparkly Marshmallows. The people that inspire me, every day, have made me who I am, and who have inspired this movement. The list is massive, so in the spirit of what this blog is about, I'll focus on those in the present. I'm sure those from the past will come up sometime in the next thousand days, and get their individual shout outs.

First, there is my family. Let me quickly define, this is the family of blood, the family that I had no hand in deciding or forming, the family that I'm stuck with through all eternity. The family I very often rant about and curse under my breath. That family is my heart and soul. They are in the deepest part of me. They taught me the depths of love.

To my mother, brother, father, sister-in-law, and all six of my nieces and nephews, I love you. Without you, my world would be empty. You're part of me, and always will be. You push me to become more than I even dreamed I could be, and let me know when I'm being ridiculous. My little ones, you taught me love. The first day I held you, I knew what love was, because though you could do nothing for me other than breathe, I would give my everything for you. I cannot wait to see you grow, to see you change, to see you become everything you're capable of.

Then there is my second family, the one I chose. My friends. I will never understand why they love me. Never. But they still do, those silly people. And I love them, so much more than they know.

Of course there is Linz, and she is easily the most sparkly friend on this list. She daily teaches me about joy in the little things, and how to be strong for the big things. She is a huge inspiration to me, and I want to be so much more like her in so many ways. If you are blessed enough to know her, thank God. For she is His gift to mankind.

 Then there is Mike, the original Sparkly Marshmallow. In him I found this crazy theory of life; in him I found how much it can inspire those around you; in him I found a passion for life that nothing could dull, and a softness of heart that the world couldn't harden. I hope, over time, he will inspire all of you as much as he inspires me.

There are so many others, my life is so blessed to be so full of so many awesome people. Erica keeps me grounded and always pulls me back to God. She shines so brightly. Petey always pushes me to be better than I am, and run farther than I thought I could, and do more than I dreamed. She has so much passion and determination. Honky is my brother from another mother, and he loves unconditionally. I so often wish I was more like him. Phil, who is my buddy for life and taught me how to lay down in the rain and feel the pain until I'm ready to get up again. Marcus, who taught me how to fight and never back down. DJ, for being the quiet comfort I need when the darkness creeps inside. Tina, my sister from another mister, who keeps me sane no matter who or what is attempting to steal it, and keeping me believing that the future is bright.

They are what I am thankful for today. They are what I am thankful for everyday. They are the reason I am here, doing this crazy thing and trying to change the world in my own way. They are the most amazing people I have ever met, and for some truly unknown reason, they love me, and pour into me. They teach me to be soft, and they teach me how to sparkle.

If you know them, give them a shout out here, in the comments. If you don't, tell me about the people that inspire you.

Talk to you tomorrow!

Name Change - Blog Change

So I had this idea.

Lets be honest. My blog entries are sporadic and accomplish very little other than letting me vent. Which, while cathartic, isn't exactly great blog material. So with all of the radical life changes I've been making lately (new job, no more smoking, no more alcohol) which has led to even more, non planned changes (loss of smoking, drinking friends, and a much quieter, hermit like lifestyle, and a renewed love for video games) I figure its time to change my blog too.

Let me explain. The new blog is 1,000 days in the Rabbit Hole AKA the sparkly marshmallow theory of life. The Rabbit Hole is my metaphor for living a truly satisfying, meaningful, full life of faith.

“If you love Me, you will keep My commandments. And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Helper, to be with you forever, even the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees Him nor knows Him. You know Him, for He dwells with you and will be in you.
“I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. Yet a little while and the world will see Me no more, but you will see Me. Because I live, you also will live. In that day you will know that I am in My Father, and you in Me, and I in you. Whoever has My commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves Me. And he who loves Me will be loved by My Father, and I will love him and manifest Myself to him.”
(John 14:15-21 ESV)

To me that says that there is a whole life, a life created by the Holy Spirit, directed by the Holy Spirit, and lived by the power of the Holy Spirit that the world cannot understand, because it cannot see, and it cannot know. To me it says that we are to live a life that looks foolish, but that is full of wonder and wisdom. I equate it to the Rabbit Hole of Lewis Carroll. A place of wonderment. A place made of fractals. A place where reality begins to take on different meanings beyond what you can see, taste, and touch. A place no one really believes in, let alone understands, until they endeavor to enter it themselves.

To choose to live in the Rabbit Hole is an endeavor that testifies to a belief that there is more to life that what is on the surface.


Deep calls to deep
at the roar of your waterfalls;
all your breakers and your waves
have gone over me.
By day the LORD commands his steadfast love,
and at night his song is with me,
a prayer to the God of my life.
        (Psalm 42:7-8 ESV)


This verse has always spoken to me as well, and in the Rabbit Hole I found its true meaning. The depth of my soul, the depth of my experiences, the depth of my emotions, calls for the depth of God to give them, to give me, meaning. Not just, "Why am I here?" Meaning. But "I believe that through Your wonder, awesome God, even in the depth of my despair You are beautiful, and can transform me into something beautiful as well. Through You, every single thing has meaning and purpose and beauty, even if I am too small to comprehend it." This verse is a call from the depth of my soul to the depth of God's heart for nothing more and nothing less than ALL of God. It is my hunger, it is my thirst, it is my truest desire. It is why I went into the Rabbit Hole to begin with, even if I couldn't put words to it.

Which leads us neatly into the Sparkly Marshmallow Theory of Life.  Sparkly Marshmallow is a term I use to describe people; it is a category of person, but one that shatters conventional categories. It bridges all others. Christian or not, male or female, straight or gay, black or white or anything in between, young or old, rich or poor, none of that matters. A Sparkly Marshmallow is a person who "sparkles" by continuing to see the wonderment in life, no matter what the world has done to steal their innocence and blind their sight. They fight for beauty. They fight for awe. They fight to stay "Marshmallow" soft, despite what the world has done to harden their hearts. They stay soft, sensitive to both pain and joy, aware that numbness, hardness, robs the feeler of both. Sparkly Marshmallows inspire me, and I hope they inspire you too.

The Sparkly Marshmallow Theory of Life then, is an attempt, not to merge the Rabbit Hole with conventional reality, but to be aware of and on the lookout for where the Rabbit Hole bleeds into conventional reality. For me its crunchy leaves, a freshly baked pie, the feel of puppy ears, a good book, a homemade scarf, a perfect hug, rocking out in the car to songs that have notes that I know I can't hit, the smell of freshly laundered anything, and pretty much ANYTHING that glitters. You now know how I feel about Christmas. Gleeful doesn't even begin to describe.

This new blog is my attempt to chronicle all of these changes in my new life, and to only look back on them at the end of 1,000 days and see how far I've come. It is a commitment to look forward every day. It is a commitment to look for Sparkles and stay a Marshmallow. It a commitment to share this journey honestly with you, the reader, every day. It is a commitment to stay open to whatever comes. It is a commitment to live in the Rabbit Hole.

My hope is that as I go along, I will ever find more sparkles, I will ever get softer, and maybe, just maybe, I will convince some of you to join me.

Non Smoking Update (A Two for One Rant)

 Things I didn't know about quitting smoking:
     There is a period of SUCK, followed by a honeymoon period, followed by a whole lot more SUCK.
     I thought, mistakenly, that once the honeymoon period kicked in, it was going to stay. Surely this boosted energy, this vastly improved mood, this feeling of invincibility, was going to last forever!
     Ha. No. Not even close. Now I'm back to being mildly miserable pretty much all the time. For the past 4 days the only thing on my mind was how badly I wanted a cigarette. No, that's not true. How much I wanted an entire pack of cigarettes. All to myself. To suck down with a holy vengeance until I was coughing up a lung and saturated to the brim with delicious, delicious nicotine. It's been a rough week to be sure, and smoking was my number one go-to when life started to suck. When I quit, I substituted video games, but low and behold, it takes a lot longer for the video game drug to kick in, and God forbid I died before I started to calm down. It is a small miracle both of my controllers, my living room windows, and my TV are still intact. And by that point I'm beyond calming.
     However, nothing was going to change my motto of 'Under no circumstances will I give in to my cravings'. I allowed myself to fantasize about it a little (I learned that's a bad idea) but refused to give in. My willpower was stronger than my circumstance. I was determined to prove that statement to be true. I still am. But it sucks. It really, really sucks. The only reason I can continue is because I know its the right thing to do. I know its making me healthier with every day I beat my cravings into a bloody pulp, or shoot them in the head. (Okay, so now you know what I think about when I kill the splicers in BioShock. Good for you.)
     Which brings me to the two for one part of this post. I continue to set my will against smoking because I know its what is best for me.  The same is not true about waiting around for my long lost love, who will forever more be known as Jonah. I waited for a long time, but cannot continue. Not because my will isn't strong enough (see above) but because I'm not convinced it's the healthiest thing for me. I think moving on and being open to a new chapter in life is actually a whole lot healthier, both for me and for my relationships. All of them. Especially the one with the big man upstairs.
     Yet, some of my friends seem to insist that this change of heart will be devastating for my life. Does anyone else find this as absurd as I do? Since when has being open to the unexpected been a bad thing? Ever? Not to mention, of course, the absurd rudeness. How can anyone assume that a change like this, coupled with a week like this, wouldn't lead to girly heartache?
     I am that friend that everyone calls when life sucks. I may not get the party invite, but I will always get the 'Life has just taken a giant turd on me and I need someone that cares' phone call. And I always go. Because I love them. Because I'd assume that when its my turn to just lay down in the street for a while and wallow, they'd be willing to join me. (I'm going to give a big shout out to Linz from Achievos for being that awesome friend for listening to me wallow and waiting for me to get back up on my own without pushing. In the VERY off chance that ANYONE that reads this Blog and not that one - go now.) Turns out that is not always true.
     Though I do understand periods of weakness, where I am barely holding myself up and cannot go wallow with you or I will tumble myself. And if that's the case, then I understand the position. But that does not make me any stronger, or give me any will to get back up. I need time, and I'm taking it. And I can't smoke when I get angry so...
     BACK THE FUDGE OFF BEFORE I LOSE MY SCHMIDT ON YOU.
   
   

I Feel Like A Superhero

       Okay, today's entry is going to be short and sweet. I'm quitting smoking. Cold turkey. From about a pack and a half a day. I'm doing it for many reasons, well no, that's not true. I'm excited about many of the benefits (my favorite not being better health but smelling like my shampoo instead of ash) but am only doing it for one reason. My reason. My own, personal, has nothing to do with anyone else, reason.

       So to my smoking friends, please stop getting defensive. I do not think I'm better than you because I'm quitting. You should know this. I loved smoking. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and do not fault you at all for similarly enjoying it. Smoking, in my opinion, is and ever will be a personal choice that, no matter what the crazy vegans say, doesn't make you an evil human being. Its nicotine. It's an injection of calm in a super stressful world. It's an alternative to homicide. And once again, it's your choice. My reason has nothing to do with my health, my finances, or my friends. So don't try and tell me that it does. Don't tell me how you've been smoking for "insert number here" years and have never had a negative side effect. I don't care. Don't tell me how the cost is worth it for the calming effects and properly budgeted its actually cheaper blah blah blah. Didn't do it for that reason either. Still don't care. And no, my non smoking friends did not influence my decision.

       What I would like from you, though, is a friend that knows what I'm going through. I mean come on, people. Nonsmokers have no idea. They do not understand how incredibly good that drag feels after a stressful day. All they see is cancer and ash, and think that it should be super easy to give that up. Its not. Beyond the fact that its addicting, the root problem is that its a habit. It's something I do when I get emotional, when I drive, when I have long phone conversations, when I'm stressing out, and when I drink. So to break that habit, I'm trying to avoid those situations, yes, including driving, until I feel stronger. And believe it or not, nonsmokers telling me how I should have done it a long time ago, stresses me out. I thank all of my nonsmoking friends for their support, really, I do. Without you guys, it'd be a hell of a lot harder. But please just accept that you don't understand and that it really is harder than not sucking ash. It's chemical, it's psychological, it's literally painful (f*ing headaches), and it takes time and replacement methods. Suggestions are welcome, but I'll keep the final say, thank you. All I want from my smoking friends is an understanding nod, not "Well since it's your choice to quit, I don't understand why you're bitching about it." Seriously? I listen to you whine about girlfriends (that we both know are retarded), boyfriends (that we both know are tools), parents that you refuse to stand up to, friends that you put up with that you shouldn't, jobs that you put up with when you shouldn't, and any other list of things that there are to whine about that are just as much in your control as the lack of cigarette in my hand. So please, just be a friend, and say, "Yea, it sucks." I'm not asking you to do anything more, in fact I'd much appreciate if you didn't come along on my stress relieving walks/jogs/sprints. Because while on them, all the crazy I'm keeping in by not screaming at the stupid people, crying at the things I can't control as my cravings spike, reaffirming 'my willpower is stronger than my cravings' that sounds crazy to normal people comes out in very strong bursts. I want to do all of this alone.
 
      And I'm giving it my all to try and continue acting like a rational human being. Just keep that in consideration for the next two weeks, and I'll try and whine as little as possible. I'm going to quit no matter how many of my buttons you push. I'm going to quit no matter what. But I'd really appreciate anyone that makes it suck less, forgives me for my outbursts, and has more patience with me than they should. I promise I'll listen to you whine about how awful I was in a few months.

     And just so you know, to non smokers and smokers alike: I feel like a superhero. I am overcoming a chemical addiction and a truly beloved habit. Every minute I don't have a smoke, I feel stronger. I feel like I can do anything. Because I can, I'm just proving it day by day.

     I'm curious. What makes you feel like a superhero?
 

Achievement Unlocked: How To Drive A Stick

  Stick shift. Manual transmission. For the vast majority of my life, I believed that three types of people had this feature in their vehicle. 1) Farmers with rusty trucks. 2) *Millionaires with flashy sport cars. 3) People who had cars who were made before automatic transmissions were standard.

People like this.

*And all Jason Statham characters.

  I am none of those things. I am not a farmer, a millionaire, a hillbilly, or Jason Statham. I have always driven an automatic (okay, they were rusty, old, piece of sh*t automatics, but they were automatics none the less) and always planned on driving one. 

  That being said, my automatic was dying a slow and painful death. It was less of a 'car' and more of a 'golf ball'. And insane amounts of hail damage aside, the last time I had brought it in for an oil change my mechanics had just laughed and told me it was time for a new car. 

Looked a little something like this.

  They said it had a little more than a week left before it fell apart. At least I think that's what they said. There was a lot of snickering and mumbling. But the gist I was pretty clear on. New car. Now. 

  I'm a 23 year old college graduate who is still learning how to sell herself to the job market. Money isn't something I possess a lot of. But you know what makes it easier to get a job? A car to drive to work. 

  So I went car shopping. Which led me to car salesman. Whose reputations are right up there with lawyers. And I was a guppy in a sea of sharks. I know nothing about cars. Nothing. I know how to put gas in them and drive them to the mechanics when something dings at me. That is all. And I was working on a budget, so trusting the factory to give me a good car right off the bat was out the question. I had to deal with used cars. And used car salesmen. 

  So to take the pressure off of myself, I went to visit some friends who worked at a car dealership to just test drive things out of my price range for fun. And the sales guy let me do it. Bless his soul. But he had a job to do and I needed a car. He introduced me to my soon to be new love. Julia.

Isn't she pretty!?

  And she was in my price range! Could this get any more perfect? I thought not. And that's when "Ben" threw me the curve ball. She was a manual. I gawked. A manual? They still made those? Seriously? He laughed and charmed me and convinced me he could teach me in a very short time. Then I got in the car and saw this.

WTF?! There are 3 pedals. I have 2 feet. Surely there has been a miscalculation.

  Let me restate this for clarity. There are 3 pedals. I have 2 feet. HOW IS THIS SUPPOSED TO WORK!? This is an evil sort of sorcery and witchcraft. Who has this much coordination? Not I. 

  But after shopping for the next few days and finding literally nothing that I wanted, or trusted, that was in my price range, my need beat out of preferences and I was determined to master said magical ability. I bought Julia. The first week looked a little something like this. 

Except there was no mustang, just a PT Cruiser, and a stoplight on a hill. 

And there was more smoke. A lot more smoke.

  After a week, I finally figured out (through sheer finesse) how to get her into first without needing new tires. The rest was easier than I thought it was going to be. I can now shift easily, break without grinding anything, heck, I can even shift without jerking the car in any way whatsoever. I get amazing gas mileage. And now, God forbid anything ever happen to Julia, I can shop for both manuals and automatics. 

  

Achievement Unlocked: How To Drive A Stick

  Next goal: Achievement Unlocked: How To Drive Like Jason Statham's Stunt Guy

Yoshi... No Matter What Happens... I'll Always Love You

     It all started in a small bedroom in a small house on the west side and a little game called Viva Pinata. (For those of you that have played it, I swear I actually like the game without getting high.) Though I mostly played it when I was sick. There is just no getting around the fact that that game is more enjoyable with a lowered brain capacity. But I fell in love. And then discovered Halo. And then discovered that I was good at Halo. But still, I would never cheat on my beloved Nintendo. Not even for Master Chief.

    That is, until I met Achievements and Social Gaming. They gave me points, not even meaningless points, points I could use and spend and brag about, and for doing mundane things, like breeding worms. And then, I could talk to my girl Lindsey on Halo even whilst she was living 4 states away. We could kill baddies and it was as if she was right next to me.

     Nintendo? What response do we have to this? I've loved you since I could make my little thumbs press the a and b buttons. I lived for the day I could get my cartridge of Zelda II to work. I marveled at Super Mario 64 and pretended to be sick for an entire week so I could beat Zelda: Ocarina of Time. I am the reigning queen of Mario Kart 64. I can beat Rainbow Road on the Mirror Level. Do you know how much time that took, Nintendo? I considered our union something that could never, ever be broken. I would never cheat. What could be better than you? You gave me Golden Eye. You gave me the Golden Bullet setting. You gave me Perfect Dark. You gave me Diddy Kong Racing. But then... then you started to get a little crazy.

     Yes, Twilight Princess was a fun, enjoyable game. But although I have beaten most of my Zelda games multiple (multiple) times, I've never felt the urge to go back to that one and relive it. Not because of shady graphics (go back and play Zelda 64, and be crushed as all of your "HOLY CHRISTMAS NIGHT OF AMAZING GRAPHICS" memories are slowly crushed and yet you don't care and you go kill some Poes.) but because of a rather shady storyline. I love you Japan, I really do, but here in America transforming into a dog for long periods of time, a shadow world that has literally NEVER been spoken of before, and a castle in the sky that is somehow run by incompetent birds? Really? The finishing move just doesn't make up for that.

    And now, while I browse the Wii section of my local best buy I realize that I haven't purchased a game since Super Mario Bros. because literally nothing sounds good. And all I hear about is how awesome Borderlands is or how awesome it is crushing foes with online multiplayer. I look at my little Mii and consider cheating. As it starts to wave, the sinking realization comes crashing down. Not only am I going to cheat, I am going to cheat soon.

     But I'm not ashamed. I'm not hiding. I still have all of my favorite 64 and Cube games and will continue to play them. But dammit, I want a gamerscore and I want to kill baddies with Lindsey. Microsoft... you've won me over. Nintendo... we had a good run. But I'm not a one system gamer anymore. I've grown. I need more. And I'm going to go get it.

Just Like Your Grandmother Made and Other Lies from Soup Commercials

     I've been sick for going on 48 hours. Nasty cough, stuffed up, headache, body aches, mild fever, you name it. I've been on a solid diet of tater tots and 7-Up. When my delirious brain stumped upon what, at the time, seemed a magical oasis of awesome. Progresso Soups. I watched the commercial and it seemed to click. 

     OF COURSE. Thats exactly what I need. If I eat that, not only will it be delicious, but I'll feel better just being wrapped in the creamy chicken noodle love that was made just for my soul. So I summoned what little strength I could, got into my car, and went straight to the supermarket. Thank heavens its all of 3 blocks away. But thats a side note. I went immediately to the soup aisle. It was so full of so much promise. As much Progresso as my little empty tummy could ever desire. And oh my Lord the names alone got my mouth watering. Creamy Chicken and Wild Rice, Chicken Corn Chowder, and the Lord of All Soup when you're sick, Homemade Chicken and Noodle. All of them, right there, beckoning to me. I bought them. I bought all of them.

   I only noticed the little green 'Heart Healthy!' signs on them as a vague afterthought. Sure, I thought to myself, I would like my heart to be healthy. Thank you, Progresso. I even remembered their commercials about that too. "Made with Sea Salt!" I love sea salt. This should be delicious!

     LIES. I HATE YOU PROGRESSO. I HATE YOU SO MUCH. I'm fairly sure my 5 year old niece's failed cooking experiments from her easy bake oven taste better than that. There is no salt in that. NONE. And soup needs salt. It needs a lot of it. Or herbs. Or any flavor. At all. Of anything.

    

     To add insult to injury, they screwed up the textures. Chicken shouldn't be that tough, rice shouldn't be that mushy, and 'creamy' does not mean 'slimey'. If I wasn't sick already, I certainly would be after eating that. Thats neither healthy nor delicious. And if my grandma cooked liked that I'm fairly sure my grandpa would have killed her a long time ago. Or at least banned her from the kitchen. Neither of which have happened. SO WHY IS PROGRESSO LYING TO ME!? (I do apologize for the all caps sentences, but since I lost my voice 36 hours ago I feel the need to yell it in my head.) I feel better now.

     On a completely separate note, I happen to have like 10 cans of soup that I will not be using... anyone want to take those off my hands for me?