someone tell my brain to acknowledge my body. or don’t.


okay. I’m in class and my classmate says he sees me surfing the interweb instead of paying attention. of which i am not proud. but prouder than if I fell asleep. Which is PRETTY MUCH my only other option. So that header was for him. Here’s the real blog.

It’s getting pretty warm here in the ATX. Which, if you know me (and, if you don’t, hello! welcome!) you know means I am half happy camper half OHMYGOSHWHYAMIINSIDERIGHTNOW. Does anyone have a pool at their apartment that’s open already. Mama needs to swim.

Speaking of, I went out for Facu’s graduation party (Facu is short for Facundo which means something, probably, but I don’t know what other than it’s my friend’s name) which was at Sculpture falls, somewhere we had to hike 2 miles to get to. In other words, heaven. I took exactly zero pictures because I left my phone in the car. Good thing, because out of the 7 of us who went, only 1 didn’t TOTALLY EAT IT AND GET SOAKED on their way across the water. And I was NOT that person. (But did I hold on for dear life to his arm on my way back? yes. yes i did.)

This weekend was chock full of body image issue questions the answers to which I’m not even close to having. I could wax and wane and philosophize OR i could just tell you about it. Hmmmm. If you’d prefer the former, you should stop reading.

fair warning: this is like a first-round set of thoughts.

Issue number one was i had to put on a bathing suit and find a cover up that fit…even though last summer I was 15 pounds heavier and 6 sizes bigger than I am now. I ended up wearing a 2-piece (because to be honest, wearing a one piece, for me, is still borrowing someone else’s conviction and because my cute one-piece from last year now falls off when it gets wet. lit-ra-ly. anyone want it?) and feeling very comfortable, especially because I was with the Banner Year boys, who habitually take care of me but keep me out of the category of “girls I wan to someday cavort with” so I knew I was safe and NOT objectified.

But then on Sunday, I got to get my bridesmaid’s dress for The Dancer’s upcoming wedding (2 MONTHS!). Last wedding I was in, I got a size 12 dress from david’s bridal. So i figured this time maybe an 8 or 10. They measured me at a 4 (dont worry, mom, their sizes are OFF, and i ended up in a “6” by their standards).  But these numbers don’t really mean anything to me about what I look like. They’re just numbers.

unrelated, i got bangs. acutally, i got a mullet. and i LOVE it.

But with the sort of redistribution of exercise and eating better, I don’t think my brain has caught up with my body. Have you ever looked at a photo and been like “I didn’t realize my hair had gotten so long,” or “wow, THAT’s what that dress looks like?”  Well, when I look in the mirror,  I am mostly comfortable with my body (holla-lu-yer). That’s the best summation I can come up with. And I thought that was a healthy, helpful place to leave it. I’m getting healthier and loving the strength I’m gaining from working out and I’m just all the things people usually report after they work out (other than weight loss. Still exactly 155 lbs) like happier and i sleep better and yada yada awesome. So not thinking much about the actual shape or appearance of my body beyond putting on clothes and feeling comfortable.

Because (okay, no, for a few years now) my greatest goal for my body is to be healthy and comfortable when i put on my clothes. To get dresses and not worry about hiding or disguising any problem areas.

i default to looking crazy in photos with lauren, where she always looks cute-as-a-button. i value consistency. ;)

But then, getting the dress, I got a shock. Another bridesmaid, a beautiful and thin girl who I would have SWORN WITH ALL AUTHORITY was smaller than me, had to get the next size up. I can’t look at her and think she’s anything but thin (help me, Father, I even looked at her facebook to make sure) and FOR SURE I thought I was the biggest one in the wedding (sidenote: WHY IS THIS EVEN A THOUGHT THAT OCCURS?!).

So anyway, what I’m saying is: I don’t think I know what I look like. And I don’t even know if that’s something that needs to be fixed.

hares and hairs

I always do new, fun things when I hang out with La Familia.

I don’t think I ever tried to decorate a cupcake before this easter. Not too bad for a first attempt. (I made a stencil for the bunny out of paper. Turns out, paper stencils only work once on frosting. :)


or cutting hair. I do hair almost EVERY time I’m over there.

before side

after can tell i still needed to blend in the top on the other side

and FREAKING OUT when the younger/bigger brother looks, in a photo, JUST EXACTLY LIKE Q

eeby jeebers, pplfriends. I hollered "OHMYGOSH Jacob DO NOT LOOK AT ME." (oh and I had NOT cut the right front at this point. This was supposed to be a photo of his gnarly sideburn)

and the cutting the itty borther’s hair the next morning.

plz essckuse the look. I don't know what compelled me to pair those tops. ew.

or dying seester’s hair!!

told ya, i spend a LOT of time on hair here.


of course, she helped me with mine, too! (thx, seester!)

Mrs Dubs

I just found out that the mother of my first love has cancer.

Which made me think of two things: First, that I will start to pray for this woman who deserves a thank you for putting up with my rowdy teenage angst while I dated her son. And second, about her son:

The man I loved back in high school.

i was going for sassy, but came out angry. the matching fauxhawks we AFTER we broke up!

Tall. Brown hair. Hazel eyes. Grew his beard out for me. Played every instrument he touched. Yeah, you can imagine how 15 year old me felt about 16 year old him.

Though years, states, and circumstances have separated us, and though I smile back on every memory I have of the man(the boy, back then!) I don’t feel any unresolved business between us. We had a rough break up, we went different places in the world and in our lives, and eventually we just… were okay, I guess. I mean it took a lot more drama than that but it’s sweet to look back and remember that during a time I was sure I wouldn’t make it (it really was a ROUGH break up, now that I think about it) God carried me through. What at the time was THE most important thing in my life is now something I have to search to remember.

God’s mercies are new every morning, and after 8 years of new mornings, it’s difficult to truly recall what pain that time was. But I wanted to remember for a minute because it wasn’t the last time I felt that way.

And there will be times in the future when I feel it again.

When what I think is THE most important thing in the world suddenly becomes no longer part of my world.

And I will hurt.

And I will cry.

And I will be sure that I am not strong enough to handle this.

And I won’t be.

But God always will.

If you pray, please take a moment to pray for Mrs. W and her family.  As she faces a treatment plan she cannot afford and a sickness she cannot fight on her own, I know they will all appreciate the strength and peace of the Lord.

The Layers of Hell

If you’d like to know a little more about the time I learned that Martin Luther is sandwiched betwixt Hilter and Hussein,

go here.


y’all don’t get huffy. Hell is not funny. High school projects made to help understand a literary work on Hell are.

is Hell, the place, a proper noun? Can I play that in wordswithfriends? how about bananagrams?

People Change

a “just a thought” post.

looking in the mirror just now, i felt comfortable. I wondered if maybe i’d lost weight, maybe the tan or the outfit or maybe….. maybe I’m just different.


I think i’ve done an okay job on this blog of chronicling the ups and downs of surviving disordered eating and skewed body image. Tell me if i haven’t. But for the last year or so, I’ve just been MOSTLY happy with myself.  Even my “not that chubby” series culminated with: I’m happy with myself.


There are some of us who believe people do not change. I used to think that. There are some that think you have to CHOOSE to change. I used to think that too.


So I’d love to say that either I’ve always been this way, somewhere, deep down. But that would be a lie. And I’d love to say that I just chose once and kept choosing to love truth more than my perception of it. But, that’s not really how love works, is it?


I find more and more that instead of a bright light, a moment of revelation (although, as Paul and his donkey would affirm, those happen), love often happens as a whisper that says, “Hi, I am here, would you like to see me?” And most often, I say no. I would not like to see love. I’d like to see traffic or heartache or hunger but not love. Sure COGNITIVELY i’d choose love. But when I “snap” at someone or fall into despair, my actions are choosing to see circumstances, not love.


Love, though, is of all things, first patient. (oh and I am, of all things, often first IMpatient.) And love keeps whispering. And somehow, as I say “yes” more and more, as love convinces me, wears down my defenses with comfort and joy and kindness and always rejoicing, i find the film falling from my eyes.


Until FINALLY, love doesn’t have to whisper from across the room. Love knocks on the door of my heart and I am over-the-moon. I smile brightly, “LOVE! I’m so glad you’re here.” And love comes in.


and with love in my heart, i look back at all the times I’ve stomped on him, and I become ashamed. I want to turn away, I don’t want him to see me so close, to know just…ALL of me. And with this knowledge, this perfect knowledge of my past and my future, with power to do anything with me, what does love do?


Love….loves. There is no fear in love. Perfect love casts out all fear. And When he does, I, now fearless, run back.


So…I think people do change.


Love changes them.

i found love in the middle of a textile while making a gift. how kind of love to remind me, he's everywhere.


If you had told 20 year old me

that 25 year old me

would be spending a Sunday afternoon like this:

Research Methods

i TOTALLY freaked out the girl behind me by setting this to snap a photo while i worked

she would have laughed. and, if truly convinced of the prediction, probably cried. But 25 year old me is pretty pleased with it.


(not SO pleased that I don’t need a break between chapters!)

Strawberry Kisses

before I knew i was a gluten-sickie (meaning i eat gluten and get sick, but haven’t been diagnosed as intolerant. ppl get snippy over these things), i didn’t much like food.

i mean i liked it

and i ate too much,

but i got sick all the time and readily considered that if i could take a pill or something instead of eating, even if that meant i never got to eat again, i’d do it!

life is better, knowing what food to avoid so that I can enjoy what i do have.

like strawberries. i can eat strawberries and i ENJOY them.  especially when they’re really ripe. on the verge of going bad (but not there yet) still firm, super sweet,

and if you add a glass of the right ::ahem:: grape juice – mercy, i’m over the moon for these little fruits!

I consider (lots of things when i drink grape juice;)  that a good kiss ought often (like, in romantic settings) to be like a good strawberry. had at the proper time,  a point at which not having it would be a waste, and having had it before would be to have a lesser thing.

it ought, perhaps, to have the same firmness. like something you can bite into, consume, a kiss ought not be merely lips touching (after all, can not a kiss on the cheek or neck or hand be just as rapturous, though different?) but an experience to be breathed in, to be tasted.

i bought my first "lip stain" yesterday.

anyway my point is i like strawberries and i like kisses and i like my kisses like i like my strawberries:


More Valuable than the sparrows

I got a new tattoo yesterday, keeping up the tradition of getting a new tattoo or piercing every year since I was 12 (although admittedly, I may have to stop at 27, because I only have two more planned…right now).

I decided at about 4:30 pm to call my favorite tattoo artist, who was busy working on a piece, and got a call back later, then showed up about 9pm to get inked!


it's even BETTER in person. also thank you to whoever's grandmother gave me this top. I don't remember who it was but i love the thing.


my history of, reasons for, and theology behind tattooing is probably surprising (and since people are generally kind to me re:fashion,  those things not often questioned) and I’ll share them all later. But for now I just wanted to share this one shot of my new ink.

Insomnia/Falling in the Toilet/I’m a Klingon

You see this face?

THIS face

THIS is the face of a girl who just fell in her dang toilet.

I’ve been talking lately about love. How the love songs I’m hearing and the engagment stories I get to be a part of and the weddings i go to and heck, even the friend’s-future-spouses I pray for just make my heart happy. But you know the point at which all this crap (and i totally say this with a smile on my face) gets old? The point at which your roommate’s fiance leaves the toilet seat up!

a girl's hiney oughta be SAFE in her own home!


Oh, and you see this braid?

i like the natural poses

yeah, I finally learned how to do that little lauren conrad braid in a way that stays (i.e i’m not messing with my bangs all day). Except I scrunch up my forehead a lot. So I can’t tell if it’s totes adorbs…

alien look enhanced with hair down

or if I look like I’m half klingon.

he's so saucy.

oh my holy hottness, y'all. Try not to stumble.

so it’s equally likely i’ll wear one all the time or never again. Except for tomorrow. cause I don’t want to wash my hair.

anyway, i have to wake up for FOUR STRAIGHT HOURS of class in the morning, enbeedee. Just can’t sleep so it seemed like a good time for a photo shoot.

Omnipresent Accoutrements

I’m sitting in Starbucks enjoying free internet and home-brewed coffee (And not feeling guilty because I give them enough business;) while doing a little work (also known as scouring the interwebs for tchochke. lemme ‘splain.)

This summer, the kid’s program is doing another “Detective Academy” which is code for: we’re teaching the kids that God has all the answers, and gives us creation, the Holy Spirit, the Bible, and each other to help US understand the answers we need. Then, after that 4 week series, we’re going to teach the kids about the omnis:


But we say things like “God is everywhere and always near.” And “God is in charge of everything!”

And, as providence would have it, I get to buy all the little doodads we’ll give out each week because a)it’s a helpful tool for getting the kids to connect the lesson to their lives and b)KIDS LOVE DOHICKEYS. (dohickies?! spellcheck?)

So, I’m getting like, judges gavels for “God is in charge” (omniscient/omnipotent) or magnifying glasses for the kids to explore how creation helps us understand the mysteries of God,


So i’m looking on the google and for lack of better ideas, search “omnipresent accoutrements“* and that got me to thinking of MY (almost)omnipresent accoutrements….all of which I of course have right now:

funky rings
and coffee

i like to call this series "why didn't i bother to fix the lighting?"

oh yeah. and sunglasses. big, obnoxious ones. (hint: big girls with big accessories sometimes look like smaller girls. banking on that.;))

see that ring? Ariel's voice lives in that ring.

also, just for funsies, this is me sticking out my tongue. i know, you can't see it, but that's as far as it goes.

(smile clearly NOT omnipresent)

and now i’m just gonna go skip to church. happy sunday, y’all.