I'm not normal. I promise.

A Tribute to Booooka

2010-05-17T10:47:00.000-07:00

Boooke, also known as Becca Michealsen, turned 23 yesterday. This makes her older than me, however, what makes her wiser is that, 2 days ago, she graduated college...finally. I wish I could have been with her to celebrate her cute face and gangly legs but instead, I stared at this picture, because it reminds me of nearly every reason I love our friendship:

We love to dance
We are serious (game faces) about dancing
On July 31st we will dance our hearts out to celebrate love
She gave me the dress she is wearing

Congrats on being done with college and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, dear dear friend. I am counting down to your return on May 25th.

It's Never too Late

2010-05-05T11:58:00.000-07:00

I have always heard of girls doing this and always missed the sleepovers where it happened. Last week, Lauren and I had a sleepover with our small group girls and i FINALLY got to experience an in-home ear piercing. It went as follows:

1. Numb the ear with two ice cubes for 30 minutes. (Apparently this is the worst part but most crucial. makes sense...)

2. Place a dot on the desired location of new ear piercing. Choose wisely. There was also a lot of freaking out in this step, however, I don't know if that is necessary. So step 2 has an optional panic attack by both the piercer and the piercee:

3. This step is a team effort. You need a brave subject (TJ), an even braver piercer (Anne), a cool mom (Barbs), a hair holder-backer (Krista), a hand holder (Lauren), a photographer that can barely keep it together (me), and an encourager of all parties (Sadye) that simultaneously blocks the photographer who can't keep it together due to the shock of a needle being shoved through cartilage before her vcery eyes (i mean, forgive me!!):

Now they are talking tattoos. Hopefully no post to follow.

Metal Mouth

2010-04-21T14:44:00.000-07:00

A very odd duty I have been given as a bridesmaid is what I will call Retainer Accountability. "What is that?", you ask. Well, I live with Britt, a bride-to-be, and she wants to be better about wearing her retainers at night. She said it would be easier if she had an accountability partner, and that my friends, is where I come in.

This experience is truly a win-win because I want to be good about my straight teeth (Thanks mom and dad), but also be a good bridesmaid. It was an easy decision.

Last night was night 3 of Retainer Accountability. Britt was at a sleepover and left hers at home. As her partner in accountability, there will be consequences. Suggestions are welcome.

Because I think this is the only time I will ever blog about retainers, I will share all my retainer facts in this single post. The only really important thing to explain, as any true retainer wearer knows, is what they look like: My top retainer is pink stripes that glow in the dark with 4 dinosaurs while the bottom is lined with hearts on a pink tint. The dinosaurs may be the one surprise to you. I agree, it is uncommon to find them on retainers, let alone those that belong to a girl that picked them out at age 16. I was weirdly into dinosaurs. We all have our things.

A Landmark of Sorts

2010-04-20T15:17:00.001-07:00

I live in a very beautiful, very sheltered bubble. It goes by the name of Santa Barbara.

This last weekend I traveled out of country, well county, but it felt like a different country. I went to Bakersfield. This wasn't my first visit but when my trip to Walmart was life changing, I realized, far too quickly that I live in this bubble.

I spent the weekend preparing for wedding #2 that will be there, in the brides hometown. There was ALOT of wedding activities and ribbon and labels and flowers and decisions and stamps but looking back on the weekend with the girls, I would have to say a highlite was Chickfilet. Yes, the fast food chain. We don't have one in my bubble, but we should. The food was fine, but the service...well, let me tell you about the service**.

Have you ever been to a fast food restaurant where they walk around offering refills on your soda? Have you ever asked for something at any restaurant where the response is always, "my pleasure"? Have you ever heard of a fast food restaurant being closed on Sundays because they respect the sabbath?

Well if you answered "no" to any of these questions, that means you have not been to Chick-fil-A. The food is fine, a little healthier than most fast food, but it really doesn't matter because the whole experience is so magical. On our way out, an employee even remembered that Jolie had been debating what to order, and asked her how her salad was. I mean, come on! That is service.

**I should get paid for this post. right?

Why no blogging for 2 weeks, you ask?

2010-04-16T12:14:00.000-07:00

Let’s be honest, most of you aren’t asking this, nor have you noticed. But it is the title of this post nonetheless (I think it is fantastic that this is all one word not just because it looks cool but because it is correct). I will not be answering my own question but rather in true Dwight Shrute fashion, I will give you some facts:

Fact: the average life of a blog is 1.5 years or something (can you see that I have done elaborate research?)

Fact: I have been so sick of my juvenile lay-out of this blog and suffering from intense blog envy. Yet, don’t have the energy or sincere desire to change it, so I avoid it.

Fact: Wedding season has officially begun. Not the actual weddings I am in, but the showers and hoopla that lead up to them all. This takes time.

Fact: I work at a computer all day and don’t want to get on one at home to post anything.

Fact: I think of blog posts all the time and they are so clever or meaningful or funny and then I forget them when the time comes to posting so I conclude they are in fact none of those things.

Fact: A certain someone told me blogs are “shameless self promotion”.

Sub-fact: I believe there are many, many points to refute this as well as many, many reasons to have a blog for other reasons, HOWEVER it has made me question certain posts that would otherwise go up.

Fact: I am not subtly telling you this is the end, just giving you some facts.

Fact: With 7 weddings this Summer, 5 of which I get to be a part of, there is no way I’ll be able to keep stories and pictures from any faithful readers.

Fancy that

2010-03-31T09:04:00.000-07:00

SCUBA is an acronym.
Who knew?
Self Containted Underwater Breathing Apparatus.
I learned this last night as I was falling asleep and Jolie was keeping me awake rambling nonsense.
It blew my mind I had gone 22 years of life and never known this.
Thank you for your ramblings, Jolie.

Sleeping Bag Wresting: why not?

2010-03-23T09:15:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite games was played last night at Younglife (see above). It is fairly simply: 2 people place sleeping bags on their head, wrestling ensues. The correct way to play is to have the students start on their knees. This was completely ignored last night. This shot is the girl v. girl round, the only picture I have because the guy v. guy round i was covering my eyes and praying.

The winner of the two rounds battle it out at the end but the guy doesn't know that we let the girl go without a sleeping bag. Outcome: me in tears with a stomach ache from laughing so hard.

All the more hilarious, Tim here was dressed as a Jersey Shores guido running around fist pumping as he made sure they didn't crush the audience. This was only semi-successful. (please take note of the facial expressions.)

Younglife's slogan is "you were made for this". I love, in moments such as last night, when a room full of high schoolers are laughing and being ridiculous and it really is true--they were made for this.

A Bike-on-a-Bike

2010-03-17T09:15:00.000-07:00

I was outside of work on the phone when this guy just cruised on by acting as if things were normal. I had a number of things I wanted to tell him but mostly, "don't look at me as if what you are doing isn't strange. I will take a picture if I want. You are a freak." Don't hear me wrong, it's not that I don't like him but it isn't everyday that you see this, and he was coming off as if he was just going for a bike ride. Clearly, that is not the case. It's a bike-on-a-bike ride. Duh, guy.

I may have been more baffled than was necessary but I just couldn't help but wonder...who helped him up on there? Did he climb a ladder? What happens when he wants to stop and get off? When he hits a red light? Does he have two bike locks or one? Does he read a lot of Dr. Seuss?

I just wanted to follow him for a mile even. Watch how he adjusts to certain situations. See other people's reactions to him. Maybe people would even follow him with me. I almost picture it like one of those commercials where one person starts noticing and then (cue the music) it becomes a phenomenom and, all of a sudden, a huge crowd is chasing him.

That's just me.

But, if you have ever wondered what a bike on a bike would be like, this is for you.

Good and Faithful Servant

2010-03-12T08:56:00.000-08:00

My family dog had to be put to sleep this last weekend at the age of 16. That is a good, long life for a dog, but that probably just makes it harder to let her go. She was the runt of her litter and because of this always seemed like a puppy to me, making the phone call I got even more shocking (“Mom, she’s just a puppy…”). I knew she was old because getting up and down stairs was probably her least favorite activity next to knowing our family was leaving on a trip. She hated suitcases and packing more than any person I have met. This was because she was so loyal and loving. If we left, how would she keep an eye on us?

It has been hard to write this post without tearing up because I can only picture her healthy and alive. She was never a sick dog or even a complainer. If I wanted to go for a jog even if my brother had taken her to the park and my mom had brought her along on a walk, she was ready for me.

In addition to her endless great qualities, there were also a lot of great memories, a few of which I will highlight now:

My freshman year. First high school dance. First boyfriend. My mom was in charge of picking us up from the dance. Who does she bring? Meli. What does meli do? Flips out in the back seat on my dates lap and refuses to move off of him, in which case my mom roles down the window to let Meli have fresh air. Did it matter it was raining? No. Did it matter that he was covered in wet dog hair? No. Was I traumatized? Yes.

During most of the time we had Meli, we also owned Peaches. Peaches was the queen of the house and also a cat. She got all of the attention not because we loved her more but because she demanded it. Frankly, I didn’t care for her, because she hated me, but Meli was smart enough to know that this cat ruled the domain. So what did Meli do? Oh, she would act like a cat. I don’t mean she was prissy and annoying; I mean she, a golden retriever, would get up on top of tables and curl up. I mean she, a four legged dog would attempt to walk along the railing of our deck (maybe 6 inches wide) where you would commonly find her stuck and unable to move due to the fact that she, indeed, was not a cat.

Whenever Meli was excited the noise she made would scare most people off when in actuality it just meant, “Yes! Let’s play! I want to play. Now. Right now.” It sounded like a growl but I think it was more similar to a child that can’t contain their excitement so they scream. It was the best.

The first week of having Meli I refused to sleep in my bed but instead stayed out in the living room with her on the ground where she like to sleep. This role included cleaning her pee and poop in the middle of the night, but I wouldn’t give up my position.
The process of naming her was also hilarious. My brother was pushing for the name of any guy from the Dodgers starting line up while I was set on something girly and dumb (hence the cat named Peaches). We settled on Meli (thanks mom) because it means 'honey' in hawaiian and she was the perfect golden for that name.

These pictures were taken just a couple of weeks before we had to put her to sleep. RIP Meli.

On Lunch Detentions: Matthew 11

2010-03-11T12:58:00.000-08:00

"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."

This is Matthew 11:28-30 from Peterson's The Message translation.This verse has been coming up a lot recently and always strikes a cord (perhaps because it is the LIVING word of God...). This morning as I read it at bible study with my Younglife girls, I was amazed with the way it captures who Jesus is. He wants this for us. In some moments I am not sure if I even understand what unforced rhythms of grace look like and others I feel like I am experiencing that very thing.

There seemed to be a heavy mood at our Thursday morning gathering today and I was thankful that we had had planned to talk about these verses.

One of the girls had such a bad day yesterday, I was especially grateful that we read from this passage. She explained that she receieved a lunch detention for being late to second period. She was perplexed as to why they wouldn't let her out of it given her very real, very justifiable excuse. I asked her what she told them.

"Well I said the truth. I couldn't figure out what to wear...it's not like I was just dilly-dallying...I was trying to rush and nothing looked good...and he still gave me a lunch detention?!!"

I told you it was a bad day for her.

So, whatever it may be, lunch detention or another overwhelming life circumstance, may these verses bring peace.

Auntie Hayley did good

2010-02-28T11:17:00.000-08:00

Andre and Carter love bath time more than anyone I have ever, or will ever, meet. They definitely didn't learn their bathing habits from me. (Who needs to shower every day or every other day for that matter?) Anyway, because they love bath time and because I love them more than they could know, I got them these awesome towels for Christmas. When they posted this pic on their blog, my heart melted. I really don't think it gets much cuter. I mean, have you ever wanted to hug two monsters more than this?

Here's to you, Mom

2010-02-25T11:07:00.000-08:00

Today is my mom's birthday.

I think this holiday is interesting because a mother's role is always the caretaker and provider, the one who throws the birthday parties not has them. When this day comes ever year I feel like she doesn't quite understand how much she deserves to be celebrated and always hope I can give her at least a glimpse of this. For me, the reasons to celebrate are endless, because I had a front row seat at how much she has done, particularly for her children.

She raised two children in Santa Barbara by herself. She kept us in a neighborhood far nicer than anything I could hope for because we were close to a good school and lots of kids. She put up with every soccer practice, baseball game, theater production, band practice, play date, and anything in between you could name. She made the best lamb in town for dinner even when it was just the three of us. She was the only person to ever throw me a suprise party (3 to be exact), without giving anything away (I am VERY hard to surprise). She taught me to work hard and allowed me to play hard. She put up with me wanting to celebrate my half birthday (which also is today), as much as she celebrates her real birthday. She still gladly lets me come sleep in her bed as I did for the first 13 years of my life.

I could go on about why she is tremendous and worthy of celebration but really just want to wish you, mom, a VERY Happy Birthday!

2010-02-24T17:25:00.001-08:00

"Cool Dad"

2010-02-24T16:19:00.001-08:00

This clip above (2 separate posts because blogger was malfunctioning) is from one of my favorite TV shoes, Modern Family, that I would recommend checking out. This particular clip is often quoted in my office when someone is confused. "WTF?? Why the face??".

The reason I was reminded of this, is because my dad ended his email to me last night as follows:

LOL,
Dad

I had many thoughts when I read this.

The first one being, when did my dad ever learn "LOL"?? I know some parents are hip and cool with lingo, but my dad (no offense pops) certainly is not. I ran through the options of how he learned 'LOL' and there simply was no explanation.

Secondly, who ends an email Laughing Out Loud? Was he saying, "I am laughing so hard, it must be time to go"? Did I miss a joke (a definite posibility)? Was he going crazy (another possibility)?

This last thought really puzzled me because not only did he end it laughing, but this particular email was fairly serious. So, please, with me, picture my confusion:

"Dear Oa,

Serious paragraph 1

Serious paragraph 2

HAHAHA,

dad"

It didn't make sense on multiple levels. Are you with me?

This is when the "cool dad" on Modern Family popped into my head. He must have a different meaning for 'LOL', he just must. I entertained myself for the next few minutes coming up with options for what he could have possibly meant. Live or Learn? Love or Lose? Lions Opossoms Llamas? None of these fit. So his genius of a daughter (me) finally realized what he was saying:

Lots of Love

Modern Family knows what's up.

**if this irony is not funny to you, I will guess you are over 50. (dad, I was just VERY generous to you:))

Come as you are

2010-02-18T13:10:00.000-08:00

I really like appearing as if I have everything together. I hate when people think I am incompetent. I love when things fall into place and my day just “jives”. I can’t stand when I mess up.

I don’t know many people that don’t feel this way, but because I spend 99% of my life in this body (what? Ever heard of ‘out of body experiences’?), I will speak for myself, and only myself. I hate hate hate when I do dumb things and this week I have been feeling a little "off" (so I can sympathize with this pooch).

This is a list of dumb things I have done in the last couple of weeks leading me to realize how much I hate doing them:

Pressed ‘copy’ meaning to hit ‘fax’. Entered a ten digit phone number. Pressed ‘Start’. Walked away. Whined for about 10 minutes about the stupid person that was backing up the printer while printing a whole ream of paper. This idiot was me. That’s right, about 800 copies.
Got two parking tickets when I get free parking in the lot 2 blocks away
Lost my keys. Panicked. Cried. Called AAA. AAA unlocked my car. I found my keys 5 minutes later in the couch.
I wrote a blog about my athletes foot
Told my roommates boyfriend his Valentine’s day present from her on accident.
Forwarded an email that said “wow, he was thorough” (in a clearly sarcastic tone) to the person that sent it instead of my co-worker.
Told the whole World Wide Web all the dumb things I have done.

Told you I was having an off week. But appearing as if I have everything together is the exact opposite of how God calls us. He said “come as you are”, and I surely am not all together. I say this to remind myself and you that doing dumb things are small, tiny, miniscule glimpses at how screwed up we are. There are many, much bigger things that prove this far better, but these moments of, “Why the hell did I do that?” should cause us to be humbled and reminded that we are who we are—human. We surely do not have it figured out or perfectly calculated as to how to avoid these things, though many of us, myself included, try very hard to do so. That is no way to live. And in this state, exactly where we are, exactly where our roommates are, where our younglife kids are, where our parents are, where our friends are, is where we are supposed to show love and be loved, even with the list of dumb things we all do on a daily basis. So instead of feeling silly for these moments or trying to make excuses for them, just stop. All you need to do is come as you are.

Feel free to tell me the dumb things you have done recently I promise to a) feel better about myself and b) still love you.

The approval of High Schoolers

2010-02-14T14:19:00.000-08:00

I love being a Younglife leader, I really do. One of the best things about high school students is the way they choose to show their affection for you. Thursday morning I woke up, running late for work, walked out my door to the sight of one of these unique displays of affection. Sure, some people may think this is a practical joke intended to be cruel or obnoxious, but this colorful mess could not have made me happier (or on time for work). With the help of the boys upstairs (notice the word "poop' on my trunk), they did some impressive work. I hope they think their $30 of post-it notes was well spent, because besides the 2am memories that they made, they gave me this priceless feeling of affection. If you get pranked, it means you are "in", and from the pictures below, I am think we can all agree, surely, they must love me.

Jolie's car:

My car:

A note to the culprits (Anne and Sadye): Just because we didn't get mad, doesn't mean we won't get even. Love you guys.

For the LOVE of...

2010-02-09T11:37:00.000-08:00

TWITTER???

At Younglife last night we played a game with conversation hearts for our epic Valentines Day Club. I was enjoying watching the high school students try their hardest to avoid R-rated jokes while forming poetry out of conversation hearts, when I decided I would eat one (not a student but a heart). Naturally, I read what was on my yummy little heart before I popped it in my mouth. It registered right when I was swallowing and I almost choked. "Tweet Me" I mean seriously? Nothing says 'love' like 140 characters of wit...right? What is our world come to?

Sheesh.

What did I do to show my outrage? I tweeted about it.

'FOOT in the Mouth'

2010-02-04T11:17:00.000-08:00

This weekend I was on a Younglife leader retreat (more on this later) and I sat up in bed the second night reading Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. It is a comical and honest collection of advice from Lamott’s life to aspiring writers. I do enjoy writing and hope to get better but I read Lamott mostly out of pure enjoyment of her writing. She is witty, honest, challenging, and very talented. The reason I mention I was on this retreat is because I need to paint the picture of where I was: top bunk in a room full of girls bustling to get their pajamas on and their teeth brushed, while I tried to muster up 5 minutes of energy to read, probably faking out most people that I was reading my Bible. But Lamott was all I was looking at this evening. I bring this up not just to recommend her writing but becayse of what came next.

She began encouraging writers to write down everything and anything from childhood because it always produces good leads, even if you don’t think it is worth writing about. As I read this, my mind wandered off to elementary school, as I tried to recount the names of all my teachers. I got to 3rd grade and out of nowhere, a memory jumped into my brain. Baaah. Go away.

This woke me up.

I looked around the cabin as if checking to see that the other girls didn’t somehow read my mind and see the memory I had just relived in my head. I don’t know what convinced me that by me thinking this embarrassing memory, they would all know it, but regardless, my cheeks felt flushed. I calmed myself down, realizing that this scene from 3rd grade Show-and-Tell had, in fact, stayed in my head. I silently started chuckling to myself at how weird I was as a third grader, and how clearly I have not changed. But because the idea of the whole cabin knowing traumatized me, I thought it would be better to share it on the, more private, World Wide Web.

So, in 3rd grade I already had the need to be known and hear myself talk (this was part of the flushed cheeks…I had already been cursed. Who knew it started so early?) and when time for Show-and-Tell came this particular week, I realized I had not brought anything. That just wouldn’t do.

I remember this moment of “well that’s silly, Hayley, of course you have something to share. How could you forget?” (This moment is proof that I lacked a conscience). When the sharing moved around the circle and skipped the kids that didn’t have something, I was so pleased I wasn’t one of them, or even worse, one of the kids that brings a family item their parents told them is cool. No, that wouldn’t be me! (In fact, I wish I had run this by my parents, so they would have been able stop me.) But, I had something much more special. I got to show them the very unique, very real…. Athlete’s Foot that had taken over my left toes. That’s right, folks. In 3rd grade I had athlete’s foot. Not only that, I showed everyone the cream I had to apply during lunch and explained in detail why I would be wearing flip flops that week, as to let my foot breathe. I can’t tell you what in this world I must have been thinking, except that I thought it was cool. I was oddly obsessed with injuries and illness at a young age. I loved cough syrup when I wasn’t sick, wearing Band-Aids for no reason or ACE bandages if I “twisted” my wrist. This is now a very ironic part of my life. I guess you get what you ask for...

I thought I may feel better if I told this story. Really, I probably should have left it in my little memory leak-proof container, but that is just not my style. I’m more somebody that likes to share what’s on their mind…or should I say feet?

Showing off...

2010-02-01T16:11:00.000-08:00

Excuse the mess and the poor quality pic, but this is my new yellow bookshelf. I sanded and painted it all by myself. I had a vision for a yellow bookshelf and one week ago thanks to Ryan from craigslist, Javier at Ace hardware who mixed the paint, and my craftiness, my dreams became a reality. I'm very pleased with the outcome.

Why my 8-5 is the bomb-diggity

2010-01-27T16:31:00.000-08:00

I like my job.

It feels weird saying that. Not because it is all that shocking but because I feel like I wasn't supposed to feel that way until I was pursuing my passions and living out my dreams. I would explain to you what it is that I do, but I'd rather keep the few followers that I do have. But in short, I work in the credit card processing industry. No offense to, well, anybody that has a passion in this industry, but it is not the reason I like my job. I like my job for other reasons (shocking it is not the thrill of Visa/Mastercard interchange, I know). I like it because I laugh and am comfortable with my co-workers laughing at me. Because I wear dress pants to work but the people I work with dont have their panties in a bunch. Because our boss understands how much we value casual friday and often turns it into casual week (when, God forbid, we get some rain). Because there is a shared love of Yogurtland and Starbucks. Because the constant battle between the air temperature is ultimately decided by me due to my conveniant location next to the thermostat. Because I sing to myself most of the day, and my co-workers haven't told me to shut up yet, even if they want to. Because on June 7th we are all going to see U2 in concert. Because I put most people on hold to ask questions I have asked a million times, and I still get answers. Because this season of life would be a lot suckier if it weren't for people I enjoyed being around for the majority of my day. This is all more simply put by saying, I am thankful. I whine about the adjustment to an 8-5 job and gripe about not having time for anything, but if I am here for 9 hours of my day, I can genuinely say I am thankful it is at Axia.

It has been a little over three months and some may say I am still in the honey moon phase and I am sure some days I will despise the thought of taking another call from a merchant that doesn't understand anything (that is my cynical side), but for now, I like my job. It feels really good to say that.

AND instead of reporting her to the HR department, I have instead decided to post this picture of my lovely friend, Shannel. She sits a desk over and provides a lot of comic relief. Even if it means harrassing me with post-its.

Let it be so.

2010-01-22T13:47:00.000-08:00

"Solitude is the garden for our hearts, which yearn for love. It is the place where our aloneness can bear fruit. It is the home for our restless bodies and anxious minds. Solitude, whether it is connected with a physical space or not, is essential for our spiritual lives. It is not an easy place to be, since we are so insecure and fearful that we are easily distracted by whatever promises immediate satisfaction. Solitude is not immediately satisfying, because in solitude we meet our demons, our addictions, our feelings of lust and anger, and our immense need for recognition and approval. But if we do not run away, we will meet there also the One who says, "Do not be afraid. I am with you, and I will guide you through the valley of darkness." Let's keep returning to our solitude." (Henri Nouwen)

Henri Nouwen is brilliant. But here, is not telling me something I haven't heard, he is telling me something I need to hear every day. I need to hear it maybe more than others because I scored as an 'E' on the Myers-Brigg test, for extrovert. I get my energy from people: a great thing, but not when solitude is ignored.

I will say 'yes' to solitude and 'no' to people more often. This is something I have been trying for 3 years and it does not come easily, but when I take care of myself first, I can take care of those around me better.

Let it be so.

The mail man is an Evil Villain

2010-01-20T15:25:00.000-08:00

I decided that I became a Big Girl the day that mail was no longer fun to get, the day the mail man became the symbol, worse yet, the arrival, of darkness. Mail doesn't symbolize pen pals and random letters of inspiration and encouragement and thanks and fairy princesses and ponies and candy stores. No. Mail means bills. Mail means important documents that can't be sent through email or facebook. Mail means, you, Hayley Smith have something I am taking from you, wether it be my time, dignity, or more often than not, my money. When did this happen? When did cute little snail mail turn into a blood sucking leech delivery system?

I drove up to my moms house earlier this week after a phone call saying, "you need to get your mail; there is a huge pile here." Total and utter fear took over me as I climbed the stairs to my mom's studio. What loan did I forget to pay? What credit card company wants my business? Don't even get me started on anthrax. Mail is scary. But that's not the point; the point is, it shouldn't be and it never used to be.

If I was smart I would supply you with my mail address so we could supply this dark hole in my life with sprinkles of sunshine, but I wouldn't guilt trip you all like that. But I will tell you what the front of alllll my mail says....

66 Ocean View Ave #62
Santa Barbara, CA 93103

MLK Post

2010-01-18T16:01:00.000-08:00

Oh wait, I'm at work and can't post. I don't get this holiday off. Even wall street gets it off.

Bologna. a bunch of bologna, I tell you.

A boat, the beach, NYC, Bend, and the Courthouse got me 5 new dresses**

2010-01-15T16:51:00.000-08:00

Part of me has been waiting to blog about this until Miss Rebekah Williams got engaged in the last, but certainly not least, proposal. But another part of me feels silly writing about it. But, this is my blog. This is my reality right now. I am not hesitant out of embarrassment but out of the fact that I feel like I already devote a lot of time to this subject and don’t want my readers to think I am one-dimensional. It’s more that this season is wrapped around one HUGE subject in a BIG way.

Things I have been hearing a lot lately (and my automatic reponses):

1. Start savin’! ("yeah, no duh")

2. Have you seen the movie 27 Dresses? It is totally like your story… ("hilarious")

3. What are you going to do when all your friends are gone? ("they aren’t dying...")

4. Maybe you will meet someone at one of the weddings. (no comment but in my head I think, “a girl can dream…” while giving them a smirk that says something more like, “that’s not what I am there for. Don’t be silly”)

5. What are you going to do with all of those hideous dresses ("my friends have excellent taste, thank you." I really do say this with confidence...while crossing my fingers)

6. Don’t feel like you need to get married just because your friends are ("I don’t. I don’t even have a boyfriend." This is specifically addressed to certain parents of mine)

7. Won’t they all just blend together….? (see response below)

No, absolutely not. I may be in more weddings this Summer than most, but that does not make me heartless. Weddings are a celebration, a ceremony of worship, and a time to honor a specific couple before God. I am not trying to be cheesy but to answer question #6, each wedding will be truly unique. I am honored to be a part of each one and thank goodness for my friends because I love event planning and semi-secretly scope wedding blogs quite frequently. This is not because I am wedding-obsessed but actually because I appreciate detail (So Dad, relax, I am not getting married soon). It is fun for me to hear the excitement of my friends as they finalize colors or pick out an outfit for engagement pictures. They are all so different that I am SURE their weddings will be as well. Already, I am amazed at watching them unfold in different directions. And if they unfold in similar directions (i.e. same colors or dresses), I will be moving to Mexico.

5 of my closest friends have asked me to stand at their side this summer and each of the 5 weddings will be uniquely special and meaningful. Why they all decided to get married within 3 months is something more coincidental than it is a plot against me. But today while at the courthouse for lunch, I was asked to be a witness for a couple getting married. I must have that wedding vibe radiating from me.

Funny Anecdotes from the Life of a Bridesmaid Part 1:

I own a book called “The Bridesmaid’s Handbook”

I will have gone wedding dress shopping twice this week for two different brides-to-be

I will not have to buy a dress for a very, very long time. (And not one in the same color!)

Lying to your friends about when they are getting engaged is great use of my Acting 101 class

The grooms requests for their wedding are far different from the bride (power suits for the bridesmaids, Tecate by the can at the reception, LA night club feel on the dance floor, and a lot of “I don’t care, whatever you want”)

My “Top Hits” sites have gone from my friend’s blogs, to those of wedding blogs.

I’m sure this is not the last you will be hearing about weddings. Stay tuned.

**Blog title refers to the locations that these 5 ladies were engaged. I love you all and am truly happy for you. Let the good times roll...

NO autographs please

2010-01-06T13:48:00.000-08:00

I AM A LOCAL CELEBRITY. These are my friends and I on New Years Eve at some posh party on a roof top that was caovered by santabarbara.com who was covering the event.

They probably recognized Jolie and I from our repeat Santa Barbara News Press photo and wanted to make sure we were captured at their event to boost the wow factor. typical...

This was front page then re-ran for about 2 months. People are going to start recognizing me around town or this needs to stop.

Presented Commercial Free

2010-01-05T12:24:00.000-08:00

I had a four day weekend this past weekend and I really wanted to go somewhere. Just get out and use my freedom and time off. Before I knew it, Wednesday had arrived, marking my last day before the long weekend. No airline ticket, no full tank of gas for a long drive, and absolutely no plans. No epic New Years, I guess.

I still left work with a little bounce in my step at the possibility of being able to clean my room and work out and read and do whatever the heck I wanted for that matter but still had this urge for a last minute impulsive (and out of character) change in plans to fly somewhere…

You are all wrong. This post is not about where I ended up going but about the extraordinary thing that happened while staying in good ol’ SB. I got to live out my favorite sitcom. Well the truth is, I get to live it out a lot, but this weekend sealed the deal. Between my apartment, and the 5 boys that live directly above us, we have become a new, younger, mostly more appropriate version of the TV show Friends. We practically started each day standing in a fountain wearing similarly odd clothing while people watched and adored and sang along. I have a tendency to exaggerate but not here; no, sir—the eight of us (5 guys and 3 girls) didn’t really leave each other’s sides all weekend long, and it was a beautiful thing.

The small chance of all of us not working prevents this combination from happening more often, so we all laughed a little more, and stayed up a little later, and got a little more creative than we normally would. The boys let go of their Halo controllers and instead headed up a hike that ended by jumping in the ocean in the middle of winter at sunset. The girls decided that we could forgo a movie night to host the most intense 3 hours of Mafia ever played, in our living room. There was lawn bowling, new years eve dancing, hookah, and a lot of toasting. Cheers to that.
I had to stay grounded this weekend: no flying to find thrills, and it was a damn good time. The recipe: 5 boys, who are actually men but still love to be boys, that will make you laugh while simultaneously making you want to punch them in the same moment, 3 girls that love each other and are up for most things, 2 apartments that are basically the same house, so much that I know when the boys are showering, or really walking anywhere for that matter, and lastly, a lot of love. Fine, call me the cheesy one. It’s true (even though Britt takes the cake for most times saying, “I just love you guys” throughout the weekend). There were these very specific moments that I felt were bigger than just day-to-day life (Kareem and Laura like to call these “warm moments”): sharing hi-lights of 2009 and anticipations of 2010, praying over our friends Alex and Danielle that were engaged on New Year’s Eve, standing soaking wet from our plunge into the ocean as the end of the sun slipped into the horizon and the boys stood there in boxer briefs (paradoxically beautiful and disturbing), and a final dinner with everyone where I laughed so hard as we recounted the adventures behind us. It was a great way to start the New Year and for a great play on words, I have written the next sentence. Thank you for being friends that keep me grounded.

This is always how an episode of Friends would end: with a nice tender summary to make the mayhem more bearable for the viewers. But if you remember correctly, there is always that additional 45 seconds after the final commercial that ends it with a last laugh (perhaps a life lesson tied in here somewhere?). So to follow suite, just picture this:

The engaged couple in our crew, Brit and Jon, coming far too close to calling off the engagement over an all-out screaming battle:

Brit: I know you so well. You are lying! He’s LYING!
Jon: Oh my gosh—YOU are such the liar!!
Brit: You are a killer. I know it.
Jon: Do you guys seriously believe her? I’m engaged to her and she is the one that is killing people!
Brit: (no words just puffs up her cheeks and makes a noise similar to that off a toddler that is about to throw a tantrum while doing the actions that would go along with such an act of frustration…hands balled in fists pushed down at her side as she pushed herself on her tip-e-toes and nearly bursts)
Jon: Oh my gosh, babe. You are so dramatic. That’s how I know you are lying.

Meanwhile we are all dying laughing as we watched their future come close to non-existent over a game of Mafia.

Britt was the mafia. So if she is ever being dramatic, you know she is up to no good…

The gift that keeps on giving: A Child!

2009-12-23T11:24:00.000-08:00

Halleluiah! Nope, not the baby Jesus. The child I am talking about is a different kind of gift: she is a 4-foot tall stylish "doll" (a term I try not to use around her) that came in the form of a White Elephant present. She was opened by someone else at my work Christmas party and as her abnormally skinny frame was revealed, the connection between her and I was clear. While others said, "creepy", I could only think"opporunity...". When else in my life would I own such a thing? When it came time for my turn, I passed up the snuggies, didn't even blink at the Christmas paraphenalia, and no thought was given to the homemade enchiladas. Olivia (she camed named) was all mine. My boss was appalled that I would choose to have her at my will and said something cutting and insensitive like, "did we screen this girl when we hired her?" I realize chosing a 4 foot tall doll at will is not the best way to convince my boss he has hired someone he can trust, but Olivia and I had big plans ahead of us.

Her first night home was basically asking the roommates to welcome her warmly, and more than that, their boyfriends to not be too ridiculous (this lasted all of 10 minutes). I will tell the rest of Olivias adventures in the pictures that were taken during her first week in her new home.

This is Olivia after being unsupervised for 10 minutes. Uncle Preston and Uncle Charley thought this was hilarious but they quickly began to prove my point that the possibilities were endless with this little bundle of love.

Olivia became my partner in crime in pranking people. This picture shows Olivia's new fans putting her on stilts so that we could lift her up to the balcony above where some of our guy friends live and were watching t.v. This stunt coupled with the time I left her outside of their door, knocked, and ran made Olivia their worst enemy. I just couldn't understand why...

But in all honesty there are about 4 appartments in my complex that fell for this prank and just made my darn day.

The variations in reaction, mostly profanity and disturbed screams, are the definition of priceless. She just wanted to make friends. People need to chill...poor Livie.

A tradition at our apartment became posing Olivia to torment or humor the other roommates when they woke up or came home. I would say this was more enjoyed by the male counterparts of my beloved roommates, some nicer than others. This is her potty training and another of her doing arts and crafts. I have sparred my readers from the posting the picture of her hanging from a noose with a bottle of wine, a bible, and a note that read, "I'm sorry Hayley" in 6 year old girl writing. That didn't make me laugh. The most recent place I found her came while I was packing for my trip to mammoth. I had all my clothes laid out the night before for packing. When I woke up, her stylin' outfit was neatly folded next to my suitcase all ready to be packed. My first thought was, "well there is a naked 4 foot doll somewhere." My roommates boyfriend, said to me, "think, where would a naked child be..." The shower! She was just cleaning off!

I realize the risk I run in posting this. I am fully aware of the reprocussions. Some of you will be happy to know, and if you are like me, sad to know, that she has been re-gifted. After the noose incident, I had to protect her. She is onto a better home where she will be safe.....

The Right Side of the Brain: Meet the Smiths

2009-12-16T15:28:00.000-08:00

My brother, Brennan, or as I lovingly call him Ren-Ren, came home this weekend and we hadn’t seen him in a couple of months. He is a wanderer and we truly never know when the next time we will see him will be or where exactly he is during the in between time. On saturday I had bought him a train ticket from San Diego back up here. I have to chuckle when I get these phone calls because a week before he was happily in Santa Cruz. It sometimes drives me crazy but a lot of times I just laugh. "Oh, San Diego! Of course you are there!"

Brennan played a song on Sunday while my mom and I finished our dinner and sat there not wanting to let go of our rare visits all together as a family. The second my brother finished chewing, there was a guitar in his hand and without fail requested to play for us. He has one of the most sincerely caring hearts of anyone I know, and whether he knew it or not, the song was exactly what I wanted to hear. As always he said, “What do you want ladies?” I typically respond, “play one I will like,” as any little sister would, but this night I said, “Play whatever you feel like.” The lyrics were familiar but I had never questioned the artist more. They fit my brother perfectly and unexpectedly brought tears to my eyes. He sang:

I'm sitting in the railway station.
Got a ticket for my destination.
On a tour of one-night stands my suitcase and guitar in hand. And ev'ry stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one-man band.
Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thought's escaping,
Home where my music's playing,
Home where my love lies waiting Silently for me.
Ev'ry day's an endless stream
Of cigarettes and magazines.
And each town looks the same to me, the movies and the factories
And ev'ry stranger's face I see reminds me that I long to be,
Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thought's escaping,
Home where my music's playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.

Tonight I'll sing my songs again,
I'll play the game and pretend.
But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity
Like emptiness in harmony I need someone to comfort me.
Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thought's escaping,
Home where my music's playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.
Silently for me.

Maybe I loved it so much because I hope that these lyrics reflect how he feels. In addition to my musically talented brother, I also have an artistically talented mother. She probably will be mad that I put this up, but I don’t really care because I love it!

She drew this picture of Brennan and it may not be as incredible to you if you don’t know him, but it captures his genuine charm. I was amazed. With all of these familial gifts, you must all be wondering where my right side of the brain talent is and why I have been hiding it for so long. Well friends, see you on the dance floor.

A Noteworthy Anniversary

2009-12-10T11:42:00.000-08:00

A moment of silence…

Thank you for that. I should tell you what that kind pause in your day was for. Well, one might think it is for Pearl Harbor, and probably should be, but actually it is for me. It is the 2 year anniversary of returning back to this country as a new person. I looked the same (besides the way the chocolate and gelato had hit me), I smelled mostly the same (but a little more like hotel shampoo instead of my own), and I definitely was still hilarious. I was new not because I had gone out seeking a change but because I was returning home from 4 months of transformation, exhaustion, learning, laughing, traveling, challenging, bonding, eating, reading, touring, capturing, dancing, listening, questioning, and growing, that some might call Europe Semester. It was the best , and thus deserves a moment of silence.

Specific Gain to Recognize: My desire to learn: I returned back to Westmont a new student. I cared about what I was learning, not just for a good grade but for application, connections, and my own self. I fell in love with learning again. I miss the classroom and the opportunity for knowledge. I know I can go out and find it still but it takes a special self discipline that I will be hopefully practice in the time after college.

Food Most Eaten: Every time our coach stopped, I bought one of these. I had an addiction and I miss this drug of choice.

Most Worn Clothing Item: I bought a black jacket at H&M in Austria (visit number 6 of 42 to this store). I wore it a lot on the trip (even though everyone, male and female, copied me) and still wear it all the time.

Random Tradition I Miss: Every time we went on a coach (which was a lot as it was our main means of travel), particularly if the trip was expected to be 3+ hours, you would just have to choose a "bus buddy". It became this "bus buddy" scheduling friendzy (i.e. “You are sitting with Marleigh on the way to Interlaken. Well then I get her when we drive to Paris.” Or “I really haven’t spent much time with you, Lauren. Want to share life stories while driving to Prague?”) It truly was the most clear indication that you wanted to get to know someone, wanted to spend time with someone or they had really good notes on a test coming up. Particular people had to always sit on the front of the coach due to coach sickness (MB) and some people wandered around talking to everyone (RZ). The rituals and culture of the coach were a much bigger part of the trip than one could imagine. I mean I am sure you can just picture the first day Charley and Hanna sat together, and then did it the very next time as well (a rare occurrence). They are now engaged. One might say the coach spurred it on but we all know it was the infamous club, Tiger Tiger. Sharing ipods, quizzing for tests, memorizing art, singing , sleeping, holding your pee, making the bus driver pull over to go pee, flirting, and did I mention…sleeping? The coach is underestimated in the way that it took part in changing me. I am glad on this 2 year anniversary, I can properly recognize it.

Coldest I remember being: Walking to class in Leiden (The Netherlands) about a mile away and feeling like I was dying. The windmills and bridges were adorable and I thought, “what a great last place to breath.”

Random Place I found myself quite a bit: Stairwells (ahem). When you get used to living in a hotel and realize that the elevator truly is not the fastest mode of getting to breakfast, we got very good at finding stairwells to take down to the lobby.

Number of times I did laundry: 3, maybe 4 times

A Best/ Worst moment: Marleigh. Fancy Group Dinner. Bruges. Challenged to put a lot of food in her mouth at once. Barb (wife of prof) looks over and sees. Anger (Barb)àLaughter(us)à Red Face(Marleigh). Food Comes back out (And the aforementioned cycle repeats). It was truly a beautiful and painful site. I would include the picture but I am on my work computer and I want Marleigh’s friendship to remain intact.

An American Moment: Arriving in Vienna and FREAKING OUT about the T.G.I.F that was not too far from our hotel. We were craving comfort food and fru-fru drinks and so we went there not once, but twice. It tasted damn good.

Something that Lived up to the Hype: The Eiffel Tower. I couldn’t get enough. I took like 100 pictures from every angle. It amazed me.

Something that didn’t live up to the hype: Wienershnitzel . Maybe there isn’t hype around it but if there is, it did not live up to it.

A touching moment: The US Memorial D-day cemetery where our professor read us the address that Bill Clinton gave at the 50th anniversary of D-day. Our professor’s father fought and returned on the anniversary.

I could continue but for now, this is my tribute to the most life changing experience I have had. Maybe next year the list will continue. I hestitated using "most favorite..." or "best..." because that is too diffcult. I miss the ES '07 family.

What did I tell you??

2009-12-07T23:29:00.000-08:00

I can't post about the cutest kids in the world and not give proof. These two bring me so much joy and it is painful how much I love them. I was at the hospital when both of them were born and seeing how old they are is nuts. This was the same day we put up the lights on their house and I swear they grew between taking this picture and when I saw them that afternoon. They can't grow up because then I have to.

Safety Compromised for Santa's Name

2009-12-07T18:06:00.000-08:00

Anybody close to me, knows who the Battles are. They are my other family. The best way to explain Kareem and Laura is that they are like a big brother and sister, thus making their two adorable sons, my nephews. They have treated me like part of the family in every aspect, and welcomed me into many traditions, my favorite of which may be their Bacon Western Cheeseburgers. One tradition that I joined in on way back when I was in high school, is helping to put up the Christmas lights. I have missed a couple of years but because Kareem gets more and more ambitious every year, I had to come prepared. We tried some new things which turned out great but with every great accomplishment, comes great sacrifice (or whatever that cheesy saying is). Picture this: Kareem out on a ledge jetting off of his 3 year old sons room, while I am wedged between a toy ambulance and a miniature table, handing him the supplies through a 2x2 window, whilst holding his clothing to make sure he does not fall. Meanwhile, downstairs Christmas tunes are blaring while Laura and the kids set up the tree. I kept thinking, they wouldn't be so jolly if they knew how close they were to losing a family member upstairs. All Kareem wanted was a light frame around the second story window and he was pretty willing to take any drastic measure to get that done. After 2 trips to CVS and 30 perimiter calculations later, the house was better than any in the neighborhood, with a perfect light frame around the upstairs bedroom. The best part: Kareem is alive.

Here is the final product (even though it doesn't do it justice):

no shame

2009-12-05T12:10:00.001-08:00

This sophomore year classic popped up on my screen saver and brought me far too much joy. I believe we wore them to a school function. I don't know how we got this good looking, but both Jolie and I are thankful for our class and style.

you can thank me later

2009-12-02T16:26:00.001-08:00

This, my friends, is what I am currently sippin' on at work on this lovely Wednesday afternoon. The clouds have rolled in and nothing sounded better. I felt so inclined to blog about this because I want everybody to remember how good hot chocolate is. With whip cream, mini marshmallows, or whatever you so desire, it is delicious. (my co-workers and I decided having it with peppermint schnapps would be the best addition considering the day we have had). I invite you to partake: Celebrate the season, heat up some milk, or water if that's all you have, tear open that packet filled with powdery goodness, stir well, and divulge. I promise you will not regret it...and spare me the caloric concern (Becca, for you)

A summary of Thanksgiving weekend

2009-11-29T15:03:00.000-08:00

A little tradition from high school bible study is "high-light/low-light". This "opening" to the evening often times turned into 10 girls breaking down each day of the week and placing their activities in either category (high or low) after which some Bible studying would hopefully fit in. Everything was crucial to divulge during your time to share. With that said, I still like the tradition. It is a great way to sparknotes a persons experiences (sad but true).

The high lights of my last week:

My dear friend, Rebecca Michealsen showing up at work. I had not seen her since she left to go back to school in Boston. She came to say "hi" the morning after she got in and as if this wasn't enough of a highlight she popped her left hand up in my face with one of these suckers: (I think I freaked her FIANCE out. He wasn't ready for my dramatic girly reaction. He should probably get used to it.)

Driving to the Bay Area to see my family. My Aunt, Uncle, and cousins are truly the best. My cousin Marisa is still about 12 years old in my mind so when she drove me around with her permit, I was a little confused. And her brother Matt is more mature than I am (only in 8th grade) and I think that is reason for concern (mostly on my part).
I stayed up till one in the morning with my mom watching Glee. It felt good to fall asleep next to my mom and know that when I am too scared to stay at my apartment, I can still run to my mom. A fun fact about me: I slept in her bed until I was 13 because, yes, I am scared of the dark. big deal.

Learning new slang from my Younglife girls. If I ever tell you I am going to "dip out", I am not chewing tobacco, I am in fact just leaving wherever I am at. Likewise if I am "mobbing" somewhere, that should mean I am coming there but I guess it's not cool to "mob" alone so I will most likely be with my crew.

Driving down state street with my girls playing loud music and yelling at strangers. This was a favorite activity during high school and having them back for thanksgiving break warms my heart. There really is no shame in this. Well maybe a little, but when May, Bugay, and I are together, we couldn't care less.

The Low-light:

Black Friday: I don't really feel like going on a rant about this bizarre tradition that has formed but I went to see a movie, stupidly at a theater in a mall, and I was blown away. There was should-to-shoulder shoppers and it smelled like funnel cake. To top it all off, not one person was in line to take a picture with Santa. Of the millions of people, NOT ONE. It was irony at it's finest. Christmas shopping without the Christmas spirit. Look what we've done...

The end of communism and the real world

2009-11-21T16:57:00.000-08:00

"The in between" is a phrase I have heard a lot recently. It refers to the phase of life I am currently in due to the fact that I am out of college but not really fully settled into my next phase, whatever that may hold. I'm a little trapped between my urges to still go to Westmont for events that I probably shouldn't be seen at any more and then oddly working a sassy 8-5 job where I dress up and get a lunch break (I realize this is normal to most of the country, but it's still new to me). These two things are definitely at odds and some days I find myself leaning more toward one than the other, but most of the time I just accept "the in between". It's as if I am standing with each of my feet in one of these two phases and not quite ready to take a full step toward where I am headed. This picture is actually me crossing from West Berlin into East Berlin where the wall once stood and is my ever-so-artsy way of displaying this transition from one side to another. Maybe it's not as dramatic as the end of the communist era but in my limited reality, it sometimes feels that way. Because lists are an efficient way of communicating a lot without saying much, I will comment on the things that have placed me strictly onto one side or the other of this awkward hump, leaving me right smack dab in "the in between" phase.

I am still very much a college student when...

I went to the Westmont library and delivered a friend treats during mid-terms
I played beer pong for my first time
I got confused why I only get 2 days off for Thanksgiving and 1 1/2 for Christmas
I started going to taco tuesday every week for $1 tacos
My roommate convinced me to stay up late and watch t.v. despite my early wakeup
I eat frozen pizzas as my go-to meal
I spend my Friday nights babysitting and look forward to kitchens full of free food
I frequent the Montecito Coffee Bean and know every Westmont student in there

I have abruptly arrived at my adultness when...

I received my student loan
I went to happy hour with my work (and watched as my friends walked by to go to Yogurtland in sweats) on a Friday night
Tried on bridesmaid dresses
Had to chose an insurance plan
My bedtime moved to 1030 pm
My lunch break turned into the best time to run errands
Casual Friday is now the only guaranteed time you will find me in jeans

Now can you see the relationship to the fall of the Berlin wall? its quite dramatic, people.

A tribute to bad judgment:

2009-11-19T14:40:00.001-08:00

Being the dear friend of many engaged females, there are a plethora of wedding magazines in my apartment and in eye sight when visiting these friends. I actually really enjoy wedding magazines but cannot help but wonder what the heck some people are thinking. This picture was taken from a wedding magazine doing a feature on up and coming trends from the wedding dress world. This post is a tribute to bad judgment for this picture and this picture alone:

The only justifications for this would be as follows:

Having your wedding on the moon
Swine flu infected attendants at your wedding (staying healthy for the Honeymoon)
You are marrying Jack of Jack In the Box and want to make him feel better
You are Lady Gaga

Otherwise, I would say this is a clear case of BAD JUDGEMENT

To do: laundry, grocery shop, pee, breathe

2009-11-18T08:38:00.000-08:00

Busyness. It’s a disease. I have it…bad. I’ve had it since I can remember. I think I got it passed down from my dad’s side of the family. This disease has many symptoms very different to each person it infects. A few of mine are as follows: a “kill two birds with one stone” mentality (seen in such things as doing physical therapy while brushing my teeth), a pathetic habit of scheduling phone dates with far away friends, and a personal favorite is having “her busyness” given as a reason not to ask me on a date. This last symptom demands a story, just in case I didn’t make it clear. That’s right, a boy told me that before asking me on a date he asked around to see if I was cool (in the bizarre way that SB/Westmont allows you) and I guess was looking for feedback to save himself the time in case I turned out to be a freak-show (aka “screening”). He later told me after a couple dates (I guess I passed) that the negative feedback he did hear was about this disease of mine. “So, what, Someone told you, ‘bro, she’s busy. Don’t do it??’” I guess it makes sense. I’m busy therefore I don’t like eating a nice meal and having my door opened for me. I’m glad he could over look this major faux pa of mine. I mean, I don’t do drugs, I bathe fairly regularly (Kareem, keep your comments to yourself), I like good conversation, and please, please forgive me if I live each day to the fullest (I realize this is a euphemism). My problem is not with the boy but actually with the fact that it is a “con” of mine on the pro/con list of “Dating Hayley”. There is no doubt that I stay busy. My personality, generation, type of employment, etc, are all things that increase my chances of being a busy person. I am not going to get around it. However, in my 22 years of life, I have found that the secret is not in making more time, but in choosing how I spend my time. This was best framed for me by a dear friend and mentor, Michele Mollkoy. I will call it my medicine. Take a dose.

Be fruitful, not productive. These words have been very impactful. She explained them by pointing out how Jesus took the long way if it meant reaching someone that needed Him. My to-do list being checked off doesn’t make my day a good day (productivity) unless those things are done in a way that glorifies God (fruitful). Often times I have to let go of my to-do list (the short, efficient, timely route) for things that reap more fruit. It often times means allowing the plans of my day to be changed by something more urgent. Jesus, knew urgency as people in need, not a timeline to get to the next city. This medicine can be a hard one for me to swallow, but very life-giving when applied.

reflections on being made of glass...

2009-11-14T15:57:00.000-08:00

I went on a walk today. This is not typically something that would push me to write a blog entry but it was my first real walk-for-the-sake-of-walking walk since being off crutches and being cleared by my physical therapist to really let loose. I smiled the whole time. Being on the beach always seems to make me reflective and so I began to think through all of the ways my life has changed since being off crutches. 3 months of these suckers really makes you appreciate things you never thought of as luxurious. My list is (but not limited to) these things below:

Being able to move hair out of my face and walk simultaneously
Not having to bathe like a 7 year old. Baths are no longer a delicacy. They are a chore.
Not having to wonder if guys are opening the door for me because they are chivalrous or because I have 2 metal rods for legs
Grocery shopping
Being able to sneak up on people again. Without my ability to scare people, there was a major void in my life.
I don't plan on ever getting stuck in the middle of Target on an electric cart that breaks down far far away from my crutches and my friends again. I will not miss any experiences like this.
I no longer have to worry about how I will get somewhere when kids have decided my crutches are a really awesome toy.
I can wear both of my shoes.
My arms look less manly.
The next wedding I am in, I will not have to crutch down the isle again.
And of course, I am that much closer to my greatest love...Dancing!

This list may seem silly but I assure you that I am truly thankful for the gift of walking. Today was a very big deal even if it was 2 miles and I started sweating. For all of these things and more I am thankful.

Hello Kitty and Training Bras

2009-11-12T09:17:00.000-08:00

Last Week at Younglife, we had Elementary School Night. This was taken on my iphone and conveniently hides the retainers that I had in for this otherwise attractive look.

Most of you know that I have been involved with Younglife since high school, but it wasn't until this year that I have been able to lead. A saying (that i embarrassingly spelled "sang" when i first went to write it) that is said often in this ministry is "you were made for this". Because, yes, all kids were made to be loved, and to be silly, and to know their creator.

In my rhetoric class at Westmont we studied the idea of speaking Truth and Frederick Buechner says, "if the truth is worth telling, it is worth making a fool of yourself for." Being ridiculous to these Younglife students and dressing up as a fourth grader is only because the message at the end of the night is worth it (and maybe I secretly really like wearing my hair like this).

p.s. my mom did call and say that I have the best blog. so predictable.

getting my feet wet...

2009-11-10T18:42:00.000-08:00

(picture goes along with title...kind of)

I feel like everyone’s first blog post typically explains why they finally gave into the blog world, or pre-excuses themselves from boring posts of their own rambling thoughts, and sometimes even over-emphasizes their witty yet thoughtful title that they thoroughly articulate how it “oh-so directly” applies to them. Being the very “normal person” that I am, I will follow suit:

“So I decided to start a blog because…”: I decided to blog because being in this dress-pants, high-heeled working world, I sit at my computer A LOT. Don’t get me wrong, I am often times very busy. But reading all of these blogs in between phone calls about full Visa card numbers and missing settlements, I have thought…would people care what I have to say? If you are reading this, you have answered my question. If this is the last time you ever visit my blog, don’t tell me. There are many other reasons I have lent to my conscious for why I am starting this blog but in case they don’t come to fruition, I will leave it at this: I am starting it because I want to and instead of thinking “if I had a blog I would write an entry on this”, I will just do it. So you should too…

“The Typical Pre-apology”: I ramble. I write long sentences. I make grammatical errors. I think I am funny (anybody who knows me, sadly, knows this). I can be fairly cynical. I may write about things you find unimportant. I might complain. I like conversation more than the virtual world of communication, but gave in. I may not post for weeks. I may over post. And for all of these things and more, I am sorry ahead of time. But not that sorry because this is my blog and I, like many bloggers, need to get over apologizing and write boldly. (That was more of a pep talk for myself than anyone else and I feel much better. Thank you.)

“Explanation of Blog Title”: Choosing 3-8 words to characterize your blog just got added to my “Top 5 list of Most Stressful Activities. This particular title came directly from a conversation that I had with my lovely roommate and partner in crime, whom I fondly have come to call “wife” due to our odd marriage tendencies (i.e. calling each other for such reasons as buying 4 boxes of cereal and just needing “to talk it out”). In fact, she will most likely read this before I post it just for the assurance that I can start a blog. Calling her “wife” because of these tendencies really gets at my limited view of marriage. Anyway, back to the conversation I was having with my “wife”. We were discussing the idea that most people are weird and trying to think of “normal people”. A typical conversation, right? All of a sudden, Jolie says, “oh my gosh, you are normal!” I was genuinely confused whether or not to be offended. Being defensive for the sake of sticking to my true character, I interjected, “I’m not normal. I promise!!” (hence the blog title). Why did I care so much? As much as we say “he’s weird” or “she’s weird” as an insult, it is actually more offensive in our day and age to be called normal. That’s why blogs are really around, right? To show people how not normal our own lives are? I don’t want to be normal. I want to be weird. I want to be the girl that can do this well or has that cool thing about her. I want to have things about myself that make them want to read my blog. I just want to be weird, ok? With these confessions, I can see the jokes rolling in. “Oh no, Hayley, you are definitely weird. I am not worried,” (followed by snickers). Or the reassurance (probably from my mother) that, “your blog is the best and everyone will want to read it. You have never been normal because you have always been special, etc, etc.” But when Jolie told me this, despite my mom thinking I am the coolest, I realized that I definitely spend a lot of time and energy trying to stand out. You will probably see this seep through the screen from time to time while reading my blog, if you chose to return, but more than that I hope you see my journey to being comfortable as me. Who knows what this may look like…I surely don’t.