Someone(thing) keeps stealing my dang words.

IT occurs to  me what a different statement that would be if  someone (thing) were  steeling them. hmm.

I have thoughts and develop them and want to write them out. There are a lot of very good things keeping me from being able to do thats .

 

Busyness is not stranger to me. Work and school are like home, both because I spend a lot of time there and because I feel comfortable, good, secure in those settings. But in the path I’ve been down lately, there hasn’t been a lot of time for ruminating on individual thoughts. For putting them down and crossing them out and highlighting and regurgitating and chewing on again, which maybe sounds gross but is also how a lot of creatures best process the things they take in. I am a human but sometimes I am like a cow in many ways. We all are. (yes. sometimes you are like a cow. it’s complex and complimentary and confusing and appalling and no synnonym for appalling starts with “c”. sorry.)

i wanted this cow to mean something...but all i can think of is tacos de lengua. mmmmm.

i wanted this cow to mean something…but all i can think of is tacos de lengua. mmmmm.

In my busyness of life right now, there are moments and miles and memory-making, but little of the wondering and pondering I quite love.

So it is that my words are not here. I don’t know where they are. I know I’ve had them, things to say and share and leave for you eyes to travel over, for your hearts to respond to. I’ve had words but not put them on paper or interweb or even said them to another human so that my iron edges may be sharpened. I am becoming dull.

Fabs  is a person with thoughts and feelings. I wanted to introduce her like “Fabs is amazing.” or “Fabs is the bee’s kness.” and I think both of those things are probably true (you know how i am with idioms) but they aren’t helpful in letting you why I’m participating in something she suggested. Fabs is a friend of mine. Depending on how you define friend. Sometimes I question if statuses change and do life stages in friendship, or if like family, your cousin stays your cousin no matter how long it’s been. (Trust me. I have cousins. There is no statue of limitations on this.)  So,  this person, named Fabs, has a blog. On said blog, she posted an opportunity for success. (That’s what i like to call these things. Reframe, ppl.)

Since she writes about  thoughts, feelings, her thoughts about her feelings, etc,  this all makes some semblance of sense in my head.

But not completely. Because, the one(thing) has been an unrepentant little thief. And with my words gone, I have little for this particular medium. I haven’t been taking many pictures, either. (it’s been maybe a month since I took a picture with David. #whereismymind)

In the absence of words, there is still ache. Ache that knows that these times are good while the days are still evil. Ache to run and jump and play, though i really need some sleep. Ache that accepts and welcomes my current life stage, and wonders what else to hope for.

Ache that wants to sit and talk about my First Love. Like last night, when I stayed up two extra hours, talking with good friends. Friends with whom you let your shield down, and then, disagree over what a shield is ;). Ache that reminds me that even when I have no words,

i am still alive.

 

 

What’s next and Why I’ve Been Gone

Sometimes there are things that, because you can’t talk about them right away, you need to wait. Until things calm down, until you have the proper words, until the sting goes away.

And there are some things that you have to just say. This is a little of both.

I’ve been M.I.A. from the interweb world for the past few weeks. I didn’t have internet at home, life was busy like whoa, and some great/awful things happened.

You know. Great/awful. Like, my great grandmother, a woman who we joked would NEVER die, died. Awful. But I got to go to Tennessee, I spent 24 hours in the car with my mom AND ENJOYED IT, I saw my daddy and generally learned to experience that whole side of the family in a new way/was challenged to see my sin in the way I view them now.  Great!

But I tell you, it’s God mercy to me that things have been so crazy, because something that happened weeks ago is something I can just now update you on, because I needed this time so I could tell you and make sure it was the truth, and not just how it feels (especially because at first, it did NOT feel anything like what it actually is). I should get to “it,” right?

 

Okay, some of you knew, some of you didn’t, that my next “step” in life, after myKidStuff internship was up, was to begin student counseling at a Gospel Counseling Center. It was something I was super excited, although never fully peaceful, about. I was hesitant to talk about it for some time because it just always felt a little off. (You non-feelers have NO idea what I’m talking about) But it seemed clear that this was the next logical step, a great opportunity, and an amazing chance to hone skills that I definitely want in my professional career.

A few weeks ago, while discussing the details of the job, those involved (myself included) determined that I was not yet ready for this role.

In the interest of keeping minds from wandering, I will share a few details:

There was no moral failure on anyone’s part, though some honest mis-communication.

I didn’t fail to grow in any way that was ever asked of me.

But I’m just not ready for this exact role.

I (as well as my professors) feel I AM equipped to give beyond-adequate care in a student counselor role.

But that’s not what’s being asked of me.

 

I won’t be working there. But nothing is wrong, no one has been wronged, or failed, and life is still just as beautiful.

 

Now, that’s all I’m gonna say about that.

 

HOWEVER:

Get ready for some AWESOME coming your way. Complete with a new house where I live that i LOVE LOVE LOVE, a new semester of awesome learning opportunities, and random musings of conviction, love, and life as your favorite gypsy/counselor/fashion-wanna-be. Oh and pictures. I haven’t been posting them, but i HAVE been taking pictures. :)

Bags of Adventure

I don’t wake up in the morning feelin’ like P. Diddy*. I wake up and think, once again, “Gluten is NEVER worth it. And WHY do i insist on such awful sleeping patterns?” Then: I roll out of bed (yes, actually roll, cause I’m all tangled in my blankets)

Clean up, pack, plan my day

Bank

Outlet Mall

Class (where I am now…blogging and doing homework because I want to be respectful, but listening to this man talk has the same affect as telling me to be still….an extreme LACK of stillness)

Work

Hour-long meeting about new job (starts in two weeks)

Hour-Long meeting about current job (ends in six weeks)

Lingerie party (explains the outlet mall)

Karaoke

Dancing on Dirty Sixth because I love Tenaya.

Go home and sleep until 7am, to ramp up for tomorrow’s adventures, which will involve even more costume changes than today’s.

 

which is saying something.

 

part of today's survival kit. Not pictured: my backpack full of work & class activities.

 

Because what i’m wearing now will change at 5, again at 8, again at 11, and once more whenever I get home (hallelujah).

 

In other words, my life is always an adventure, never boring, and full of bags.

 

*I almost linked to that video. Then I saw the sidebar. KE$HA IS NOT SAFE ON YOUTUBE. thatisall

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?

On Mondays You Expect a Post

and I’m not sure i’ll be able to write one, so for now, here’s a recap of my day that it’s entirely likely only I will care about.

Mel had hermit crabs at the apt. one crawled out of it’s shell and died. (a bit dramatic of a reaction, i know.) but she asked me to take them up to the high school for the middle school ministry to use (don’t ask) and i did. Except no one was there when i got there, so i left them on a table outside the room where they meet. Later, E, the dude working that site’s jr high event, tracks me down, throws his hands in the air, and shouts,

“DO YOU HAVE MY CRABS?!”

Apparently he hadn’t found them. My cell had a similar message from mel.

“Yes, woman. Eric got the crabs. And THIS is a ridiculous conversation.”

So there you have it. Eric has crabs and I’m probably 15 for thinking thats funny but whatever, I’m putting it all out there.

A cop made fun of my fedora. but a tall good looking man (albeit beardless) complimented me on it and then smiled at me a while, so i’m calling that a win.

I got to teach the lesson to five classes of preschoolers. I hooked em with the line, “BUT THEN, KING SAUL HAD TO GO POTTY!!” and doing a little potty dance. then we all practiced being little creepers. You know, like david, when he crept up to King Saul in the cave where he was pottying. Whatever. it worked and the kids all repeated the bottom line, “GOD HAS THE BEST PLAN FOR MY LIFE.” It just so happens that this morning, a potty dance was in that plan.

The lesson today was so great to hear. Like the one given from the stage. Not the one I taught. Geez, I’m not that vain out loud. And they are recording a live album at my church. I don’t know how I feel about it. I got used to hearing Chris Tomlin live and now I can’t stand his recorded stuff ’cause it’s like Taco Bell compared to gamma’s cooking. i can’t handle the processed, packaged version, no matter how good it is. (I mean, not that Taco Bell is good. Taco Bell is a result of the fall of man, ppl friends.)

in a situation on which i will elaborate later, maybe, I had to take a person aside and say “someone told me that you said something mean about me.” Yeah, i sounded just that much like a 5 yr old when it happened, to. But it turns out that it was a misunderstanding (like i said, elaboration later) and afterward I was able to concentrate on worship. God tell us how to do things for a reason.

During lunch, I did The Dancer’s hair and make up for a wedding. Not her wedding. But “You’re doing my hair when i get married, you know that, right. and you’re pretty much the maid of honor. So you’ll need to live with me the week of the wedding.” “You know, last two times I was pretty much the maid of honor, literally the exact same thing happened. So, yeah, i figured. ” ;)

I also went to a meeting where I had such bad breath that I asked the man leading to step away as I asked a question. He obliged. But he made faces at me. Actually, the faces were earlier. I told him he was imitating me wrong and he said, “Uhm, duh. I’m right. I can see you.” “Yeah, but I can see YOU, and you’re doing me wrong. It looks different with a beard.” “Everything looks different with a beard.” Couldn’t have said it truer myself.

The 5 was so crazy i literally don’t remember most of it. Good crazy, though. OH! I do remember that one little lovey was coloring and all of the sudden stopped, looked up, and said, “OH! And excuse me.” Apparently she’d ::ahem:: released some pent-up frustration. The kind that was making her tummy hurt. She was all smiles after that.

At the 7, I got to hold a screaming baby. Which may not sound like your cup of tea, but I prayed for the Holy Spirit to come and calm his heart, and every time he calmed down, I prayed out loud, “Let’s thank the Holy Spirit little baby, for giving us peace in our hearts.” And when he would cry ‘daddy, daddy,” I could say, “I know baby. But Jesus missed his daddy too sometimes. He understands your pain and he can comfort you.” Eventually he calmed down and we went upstairs (he kept asking to go….turns out he wanted to hear the music!! he “sang” along, too) where two men who have better things to do gave me mad props for being a super nanny. Yep, i’ll take it. I’ll take the compliment knowing full well it’s 100% the Holy Spirit, but I’m glad he chooses to work through me.

Plus the baby was ADORABUNS. Total chick magnet. And dude magnet. Better than a puppy.

Speaking of better than a puppy, I found a cute little baby opossum (seriously, he was cute!! like if someone made a stuffed animal of an opossum that didn’t really look like one but was a cute version of one, that would be the little baby i found). I tried to play with him by enticing him with left over chipotle on a fork. He was gonna go for it, but i was late and had to go. Poor thing. he’s probably sad he missed the chance to play with me.

then i drove home and blogged. cause im cool.

LOVE YOU!

#5 – True

I don’t have pics to attach because a) there was nothing to take pics of and b) I’m writing this from my phone, which I don’t REALLY know how to use, but #5 (not mambo) was actually true.

I went this morning to do my physical so I could start donating plasma again. Plasma is a part of your body, suckaheads! I went through the whole rigmarole to hear:

“okay, so you got your last tattoo in may?”
“i think it was April, but maybe May”
“and here in Texas?”
“Yes ma’am”
“I hate to do this to you, I’m so sorry, but now you have too many tattoos to donate…”

:: noise ::

Ooookay. A lot of work and time went into this and I had plans for that money (like fixing my door handle so I can enter my car from the driver side) but… God is ultimately the one who opens and closes doors.

So, despite the fact that really, I wanted to cry, I smiled and said that it would have been nice, and I would have preferred if, they had told me any of the many times I’d communicated with them, if anyone would have even talked about this (I even said, the last time I donated, that I was taking a break to get a new tattoo!) but that I knew it wasn’t HER fault, and thank-you for her time.

so yes. i did actually decide to sell my body for money. just tiny, renewable parts of it from my blood. :)

(and jo, I said ‘alacrity’ just for you)

edit- i got home and google image searched “plasma donation” to find you a picture. if you ever want to google image search plasma donation- DON’T!

What I Need

This was sort of a weird week, fundswise.

Let me back up.

I knew this semester I was going to need more money than last. I live on$750/month (pre tax) and I budget it. I didn’t budget in anything frivilous, so I use all my money each month. But I knew I’d need more. For a couple of reasons:

I knew I’d be driving more. A LOT more. Round Rock once more a week plus all the driving that comes with supporting a growing ministry.

Then gas prices happened.

And some of my supporters simply weren’t able to commit past Dec. (Thank you so much for any amount and any time you could do!) meaning that this semester was going to need more cash than last.

 

All of that came to a big head on Wednesday, when we had a support mtg. Now don’t freak out. For now (until april) I’m good. Good as in I wont take a pay cut. But still wont be making enough to cover new expenses.

And this month car insurance is due.

And by April I have to find a new phone plan.

And I’m taking a trip next week to Tennessee to see my dad (which no, i can’t afford, but if ever there was a sacrifice worthy of figuring things out or going in to debt, seeing my dad once a year is it).

So, as you can imagine, I was concerned. I thought of the different ways I could get this extra cash

1) cut out a lot of food. basically eat nutritional crud. cause crud is cheap.

2) donate plasma::shudder::

3)start babysitting again

4)find some other job

5)do more fundraising.

 

Options 1-4 all meant  one big thing: NOT TAKING CARE OF MYSELF.

I can honestly and openly say that I’ve budgeted my money and my time prayerfully and well. That I am not wasteful with either of them. So to take any of the measures listed from 1-4 would mean running myself down. Not being able to work well, study well, and care for myself. I don’t want to make a decision that means not caring for myself. That’s not noble, it’s disrespectful to and dismissive of the one beloved by my God.

So i considered fundraising again. Passively. As a thing I’d do when I got desperate cause it’s not exciting to me and I’m busy and I am a  complain-y turd some times.

All of this in the past week.

 

THEN:

Saturday a dad from KidStuff meets with a friend and me because God has moved his heart to start supporting us. He looks at me and says,”What you do is valuable and God is moving through it. I love the honesty in your blogs and that’s good too. But you have to tell people what you need. You have to tell them.”

okay. i get the hint. the over-my-head-with-a-2X4 hint.

Then yesterday at work, I get an email from the online donation site telling me a couple from church has decided (without even talking to me) to give me a one-time gift of $250.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

Later in the day, feeling rather encouraged and like God is telling me to get off my tail and do the dang thing, I see the ONE PERSON I’ve been thinking promised to support but never did. And by i see I mean he texted/called/searched me out cause he was at the Stone and wanted to see me. “How are ya, darlin’?” “I’m good but i need you to support me cause you said you would and never did!” “Well, send me the link. Done.”

wow. just wow. Okay. I get it. I need to let people know what I need. I need to take care of myself. I need, based on the over shoot of taxes and admin, to raise another $250/month.

 

So can you help me do that? Can you help me quickly bring in another $250/month?

 

If you haven’t already supported me, ANY AMOUNT of monthly donations from here-August would be SO appreciated. Seriously. 25 @ $10 a pop and I’m set.

If you already do, but are interested in supporting me more, that’s great too!!

And if you are one of those creative supporters who can’t contribute money but can look around for things, i need: size 10 curvy jeans, food, COFFEE, gas cards.

I don’t need: much of anything else really. I’ve scoured my expenses and I spend on: food, gas, giving, and a  bit of entertainment/art supplies. That’s it! I’m easy!

 

okay. that didn’t kill me. I can tell people what I need.

assorted array

::A list of things that could each be their own entry, if time had allowed, and equally randcom photos::

Churches aren’t perfect, neither are people. And neither am I.  But I want to love churches. I want to love people. I even want to love me. Because God says I’m special to him, and that He loves me,so that seems reason enough for me to do the same.

 

I like to call this, "asking for trouble"

 

 

Some people have trouble loving others. Some have trouble loving themselves. Both of these things reflect pride – a belief that their judgement of a situation is more perfect than the judgement of the One Righteous Judge.

 

In grad school, you get to use a big-boy hole-punch. 40 PAGES!

 

 

The cannon of beauty takes into account none of the beauty of surprises and idiosyncrasies. Your big nose and little eyes and wonky ears and veiny feet were on purpose….

she said….just before she wondered what place that purpose has in a child with a cleft lip, or mal-formed hands. Did God mean for Quasimodo to have corrective surgery?

You should love your tree.

 

Red Raider, Tech Logo, Goal Post and....RAINBOW UNICORN?!

 

 

When we err on the side of being conservative, we are still erring. Yes. Some people call us conservative. And just because it makes us more comfortable doesn’t make it right.

The happy medium may not be on the narrow road.

I still love the sunshine on my skin. And have crispy face right now.

I’m a sinner. Even though I spend a lot of time at church.

If I saw as poorly as i slept…..oh wait.

You know, “Are you okay to drive?” Is a rather silly question to ask when someone  has trouble recognizing you from 10 feet away. I can see cars. I don’t have to be able to tell you if they had a ding 3 inches below the back passenger door handle to effectively navigate a highway.  But thank you for caring.

 

SPECK is a ONE YEAR OLD! And what a mature one. Ate his birthday cupcake with a SPOON.

 

 

“I don’t want to waste my time if she has a boyfriend,” leads me toward thinking you feel that caring for and pouring into a person regardless of the benefit to you is seen as “wasting your time.”  To which I lovingly disagree. But you’re a busy dude, I understand what you meant. ;)

The books of Acts is crazy. It should be an HBO mini series.

COWBOY UP, CREAM PUFF, BE A MAN. By which I mean, pull up your britches and do the dang thing, whatever the dang thing is, regardless of your gender. ‘Cause we don’t want to waste our time.

 

Gluten Free cookie MIX tastes awful. But baked, these babies were beautiful.

 

 

Lady Gaga is brilliant and I’m rather sure that if I met her on the street, she’d be kind. And if I could wear a sign that said “satire” I’d walk around singing Born This Way everywhere I went.

Most people tell me they don’t understand most things I say.

“It was only a kiss.” I’m Latin.

THAT IS NOT SIN, IT’S JUST COMPLICATED.

 

before

 

 

While talking about the newest controversy, I bemoaned the hurt hearts of a religious leader’s followers who may now feel betrayed. The roommate bemoaned those led astray by his faulty teaching. I said I wasn’t worried about them, becuase the ones meant to know the truth would, in the end. “This,” she finished,”Is the difference between a harmonizer and a persister.”

 

after

 

 

I truly believe that if I stay single forever, life will be brilliant, beautiful, awful, exciting, painful, and adventurous. I’m on board for that, jic.

possible new header

 

The other day one of or kids at the 7:00 was NOT all about being in the classroom. We had plenty of staff, so I walked around with her. I asked her questions and we talked. I’m not sure of everything she said, but I do know this: she liked men with beards (le sigh, no wonder we got along) and her favorite color is “shoes.”

 

 

Her favorite color is “shoes.”

 

 

now, since it’s tuesday and tuesday is the day we go visit your moth….I  mean tuesday is support blog day, please go read this.