Sunday, December 5, 2010

everything's right tonight *clapclap clap*

Before it gets deep up in here, random stuff:

I spent an entire trip to work this week considering what I'd sing if I auditioned for American Idol. Decision: Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire".

I'm Tweeting. Well, let me rephrase this. I'm on Twitter, following a whole lot of people, and not being followed. So I don't Tweet much, because I'd be Tweeting to myself. That's really dumb. Follow me so I'm not dumb.

The Best American Nonrequired Reading edited by Dave Eggers. Just do it.

Satellite Radio is overrated.

Matt Wertz, if you're reading this: I want to be your wife.

Christmas time is magical. So magical, my taste in entertainment changes completely and I find it acceptable to watch an entire movie on the Hallmark Channel starring Candace Cameron. But when I consider this further, Christmas and DJ Tanner. Who really could say no?

Ok, guys. Time for some thoughts on Jesus stuff.

So, unrequited love. That's a motha, right? We've all been there. I was just there recently when I enjoyed a big bowl of Mongolian food. I loved didn't love me back...
[insert the "I just told a joke" drums in response to my toilet humor. What's the name for that drum sequence, anyway? Googling this soon.]

Like any young, single girl not harboring a dark soul, I've loved. My singleness should lead you to understand that this didn't work out for me. I wasn't loved back. More importantly...I wasn't loved enough. Instead of dwelling on these past loves, I've used them for the lessons learned. In every not-so-successful experience, I've gained knowledge about myself and my expectations. And so, as part of knowing myself, (and not in response to a romantic movie I saw at all, psshff), I started thinking recently about the way I want to be loved. What it looks like, what it sounds like, the ways I'll know it's real. And boys who probably don't read my blogs, you'll be surprised to know, it has nothing to do with grand gestures. Those can get old. Once, twice..awesome. They're necessary. But when it comes to loving someone, girls want the little things. And often.

I want to be encouraged. I want to be talked to. I want to be texted something funny. I want to be asked about my day. I want thoughtful consideration in getting me that sewing kit I mentioned in passing. I want my favorite song to remind them of me. I want time and adventures with that person.

I say all of this not as a part of an eHarmony profile, but to bring me to the purpose of this post. When I began considering the ways I want to be loved--truly loved--I began to recognize the incredibly shoddy job I do of showing God my love. Being in love with someone looks a certain way. Real love is constant. It's hard to stop thinking about this person. It's wanting to do things that bring this person joy. It's staying up all night telling each others' stories.

Basically, I've realized I'm a terrible girlfriend to God. (That sounds lame...but work with me here.) We're in love, God and me. He's been wonderful, too. That whole dying for me thing. His Grand Gesture. And then the little things He does for me every day. Giving me life, pretty sunrises, autumn breezes, providing for every need, reminding me constantly that I'm loved. And what does He receive in return? I sit on the couch watching Conan in silence. I tell Him goodnight and just go to bed. Sometimes, I ignore Him completely. He doesn't even get mad and start suffocating me with a whole bunch of drama. He just lets me make my selfish decisions, all the while loving me just as much. What is He thinking? He should dump me. Anyway...see where I'm going with this? I have all of these ways I want to be loved--the ways I AM loved by God. And if we're going to be real here, God IS love. Therefore, if I am not loving Him the same ways in return, I'm not loving at all. That's really all I have to say about it. I just want to do a better job of showing God how much I love Him. Because I know from experience how badly it sucks to not be loved the same way in return. Lucky for me, God doesn't psycho text. I gotta work on it.

Well, my coffee is cold. I'm tree? [punch line drum roll],

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

I make dough, but don't call me "doughboy".

In case you were wondering what kind of stuff I'm up to when I'm alone in my classroom with a whole lot of coffee at 7:45am, here's an idea.

An Ode to Tuesday

You're premature, you're average.
The city uses you for garbage.
The most unimportant of days.
Too close to Monday, they say.
But me, I disagree.
I look forward to you all week.
Tuesday, you are Heaven.
I don't leave the house until 7:00.
I snooze for an hour
Cause I don't have to shower
(My hygiene is fine, don't worry.)
To school and a meeting
No kids I'll be greeting
(Until the bell rings at 9:03)
But the cherry on top, you're library day!
They come in, and I send them away!
45 minutes, class is halfway done.
Back to me with books, they come.
No simile, no metaphor, no "Stop hitting him in the head!"
No writing, no worksheets, no lesson, instead...
I say to them with a joyful sigh,
with a Tuesday twinkle in my squinty eyes,
"Hey, kids! Glad you're back!
Now read a whole lot while I relax."

I've been lame all my life. But this profession has really taken it over the top.

In other news, the index finger of life is poking me in the eyeball repeatedly. It's fine. But in order to distract myself from everything, I've been goal orienting my life. Don't confuse this with problem avoidance. Simply coping. Here is a list of goals so far. Because as we all know, blogging about lists and goals is what I do.

1. Training for the Austin Half Marathon. 2.20.11. My training schedule has been written with pen in my planner. This means I have to. Mostly because I don't want to be a loser. But also, because I'll have to scratch out everything I wrote and make my planner ugly if I cancel these plans. That's not cool.

2. Find an opportunity to wear really red lipstick.

3. Create something. This goal needs some refining. Basically, there will be something pretty that didn't exist before, because of me. Stay tuned.

4. Plan a trip.

5. Take a serious hike. Perhaps wear the brown boyscout boots that go along with this. Something wild like that.

6. Get my tattoo.

7. Redecorate my apartment.

8. Read the New York Times every day.

9. Wear something other than my TOMS and boots to work. I need variety. And these are beginning to smell. Which also means I get to shoe shop. [High-five to self.]

10. Shave my legs regularly even though it's almost winter.

11. Cook things that aren't prepackaged and microwavable. I'm tampering with vegetarianism again, P.S. Before you tell me I'm stupid, ask questions, and roll your eyes, let me just say this:
Shut up.

12. Figure out a way to get my hands on an iPad.

13. Refrain from slapping students.

14. Get addresses and write notes.

15. Decide my stance on the Beatles on iTunes thing while I wait ever-so-patiently for John Mayer's retort to Taylor Swift's "Dear John". Say something mean, d-bag. I dare you.

16. Find the humor in everything.

17. Organize car. I think I'll put things in a storage bin in the back. That way, at least it's contained crap.

18. Pay some attention to my tumblr account. Idea: document the ridiculous stuff that happens to me on a daily basis. I.e. ruining graded papers with a bottle of water, bleeding pen on pants, car turns itself off mid-turn, butt crack in the air at the top of a gigantic public slide, etc.

19. Put away the damn laundry.

20. Live.

I thought living would be a good goal to include. Anyway. That's what's up with me. I'm off to spend some time with Texas Pecan coffee, Glee, and goal work. Talk to you over the holidays, perhaps? Be blessed, friends. xoxo :)

Sunday, October 17, 2010

here's my heart, o, take and seal it. seal it for Thy courts above.

Decision: I'm going to ACL every year until I die. I will even leave the nursing home to attend this weekend of music. (Supervised, of course.) It was perfect. The experience, the bands, the food, the weather, everything. But I definitely enjoyed my company the most. Many memories and many laughs. Huge reminder of how much I can't wait to move back to Austin. That place is the bomb. I think I like it so much because no matter what, there's always someone weirder than you. It's quite liberating. Just ask my Vampire Weekend, Muse, and Switchfoot dance moves.

So, I'm not gonna lie, guys. I think this is going to be a heavy post. I've just had so much in my head and heart lately. Have you ever just come to a point of peace and realization so freakin' sweet that it makes your insides joyful? Like, a realization so strong that you can't wait for the end of that enlightening solo road trip so that you can start living the thought. This happens to me frequently on a more shallow basis most of the time. You that summer I became a vegetarian, or that one time in college I decided to get a perm. Ok, maybe these are terrible, hasty examples. I promise that the latest moment in the car was better than these, even if it is hard to imagine.
Starting from the beginning...basically, I'd been considering the verse in Matthew 6: "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." It just really stood out one day. So much so, it became a Facebook status. I know, right? Big time. Well, around the same time I came across this, I was jamming to Mumford & Sons' "Awake My Soul." In the song, they so beautifully sing, "In this body you will live. In this body, you will die. Where you invest your love, you invest your life."

"Hmm," I thought. "I wonder if they love Jesus. It certainly seems to surround the concept of that verse I read the other day. Treasures. I should consider this." So, I kinda did. Then, I kinda didn't.

Not even kidding, maybe the next day, I read a C.S. Lewis quote. "Has this world been so kind to you that you should leave with regret? There are better things ahead than any we leave behind."

What the...? Another something about earthly treasures? It was about this time I felt God was trying to tell me something. So...I prayed about it. "Lord...what do you want me to gain here? What are you asking me to think upon? Speak to my heart, and help me to listen. And please make rainbows actually rain Skittles. Amen."

Right away, God told me to shut up and sit down. I don't think He said it quite like THAT, but I did feel that I needed to slow down from the daily toil and take time for what He was obviously asking me to see. From this, I felt the strongest urge to write--to simply sit down with my journal and make a list of the things I treasure. What's important to me? What do I believe? What do I compromise? And most importantly, where is God in all of this?

And so, I started thinking about my worldly treasures. Music, travel, relationships, the Internet (yeah..lame, you say. But think about how pissy you get when your Net is down and then say something.), goals, stories (books/movies), art, landscapes, my nieces, opportunity...

Welp, that was easy. Conclusion: I like the world, pretty things, and I want to stay here as long as I can. I love Jesus, too. The end.'s where the car comes in. I was doing what I do: jamming. The album of choice was Jon Foreman's "Limbs and Branches". Well...a lyric in one of his songs says:

"Friend, all along I thought I was learning how to take. How to bend, not how to break. How to live, not how to cry. But really I've been learning how to die."

Dang, right? My thoughts, exactly. At this moment, it all came together for me. Everything I'd been considering. Everything I'd been trying to figure out. The something I wanted to learn from all that God was making me notice.

In everything I heard/read, I was reminded that Heaven is awaiting me. Nothing on this earth--not a problem, not a love, not a fear, not a moment, nothing--matters in comparison to eternity. Nothing I've touched, nothing I've done, nothing I didn't do, nothing on my list of TO-do can come with me. My treasures are simply illusions in this temporary home that God is using to mold me. To make me. To prepare me for His Kingdom. The treasures I had previously listed--my interests, my passions, my relationships, my struggles, my opportunities, my time--are all part of the process. They all shape my heart and play a role in who I am becoming. The reason this is such a big deal to me is because I realized suddenly that in all of this crap, God too often takes a back seat, and it's really not cool. What am I loving most, even on earth? Am I sure it's Jesus? And if I am, could anyone tell? Where is my heart and where am I investing my life? Is it in on things above? What am I doing that is glorifying God? Basically...I'm not satisfied with the answers to my questions. I've got to put the Lord before all of the junk. I'm leaving it all behind anyway. I want to serve. I want to spend time on earth that resounds in eternity. I want to think about souls and hearts, not schedules and possessions. I want my heart to already be in Heaven. I want to be fearless.

And so, I leave you challenged. And I leave you with the utmost hope that I'm able to put away what's unnecessary and live simpler with Christ. To love what God loves. To invest my heart where the Lord invests His. To make myself uncomfortable and less reliant on what I treasure.

Yeah, all of that in 2 weeks and 120 miles. I'm still not sure of the rest. I don't know if I know what this looks like yet. But I'm still listening and if nothing else, that's where my heart is now. Which is so much better than Love. :)

Sunday, September 26, 2010

I'm rocking the suburbs just like Michael Jackson did.

Ingredients for an A+ weekend:

knitting needles
$12.99 candles from Target
evening streets
sweet dance moves while walking down said streets
a cute grocer
sunflowers to me, from me
best friend
fair trade coffee
yoga pants
Judy Garland
a bottle of Ménage à Trois
Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray
Hobby Lobby
gummy worms
mini homemade spinach and cheese pizza
a Martha Stewart Living publication
autumn sunshine

Yeah. All of that happened. Awesome weekend.

I spent this awesome weekend doing these awesome things alone with the exception of a morning jog with the BFF. Because I live by myself, this is often the case. Given the fact that I work with 80 6th graders 5 of 7 days a week, this does not make me sad at all. I love being alone. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a loser or anti-social (most of the time), but I more often than not would rather be quiet, listen to music, and read. Although roommates have their perks, such as gossiping about TV characters as if they're our friends and contributing to the toilet paper supply, living alone is nice, too. It allows me to take sporadic naps and leave my yogurt container on the ground for as long as I want without the motivation that possible judgment brings. Most importantly, it allows much time for pointless thought. And so, here is a glimpse of the things I considered this weekend when I wasn't Facebooking you:

What's worse?
A finger in your can of soup.
A snake pops out of the toilet hole thingy while you're sitting on it.

Slippery banana peels. Cartoons and Mario Kart made me believe these were dangerous. Who is the originator of this idea? Even so, if I see one in the parking lot, I am going to warn you so as to prevent you from stepping on it, or running it over. Or maybe I won't, for 2 reasons: 1. To validate or nullify this theory. 2. People falling down is funny.

I mostly don't care what other people think of your status. If you were notified that I commented on it or liked it, and then you notice it's gone: it is.

How many girls REALLY care about football? And how many girls say they do to impress that boy they're dating/interested in? Ok, sure. We're old enough now to not be so easily influenced by that dreamboat. But, I also believe that if a girl is legitimately interested in this sport, this interest started in 5th grade when the boy she wanted to end up married to in MASH was wearing a Dallas Cowboys/Houston Oilers Starter jacket.

If you're not holding a stereo above your head John Cusack style, then no, darling. I will not marry you.

Remember that one time I wanted a puppy and I asked you guys to talk me out of it on Facebook? You completely failed. The only thing keeping my feet on the ground in regard to this topic is how much I'd rather buy that $50 fedora from Urban Outfitters and not spend it on chew toys and vet bills. Although, which is the better investment for snagging a super hot boyfriend? A fabulous wardrobe accessory, or the conversation-starting, adorable puppy that gets off of his leash and runs in the direction of the boy reading C.S. Lewis on the bench at the park down my street. I'll chase after him, cute boy will pet cute puppy, our eyes will meet, and we'll exchange witty banter until it gets dark. Psshhff, no. I haven't thought about this or watched too many romantic comedies.

IS this whole Joaquin Phoenix thing a prank? I was a semi-second away from renting Casey Affleck's documentary about him on iTunes last night, but then stopped myself when I thought about how pissed I'd be if I spent $7.00 to watch a publicity stunt. I also decided that regardless the fact or fiction of his new persona, the majority of me wants to punch him in the face and not spend time frustrated and uncomfortable witnessing a bearded douche bag attempt to rap. I opted for A Star is Born with Judy Garland instead. Which, unlike my choice to wear white and drink red wine with the knowledge of my consumption spill track record, proves that I mostly make excellent decisions.

I think I'm the only person in Texas not watching football today. Instead, I'm off to the coffee shop to read what I know will be absolutely enthralling 6th grade personal narratives about a memorable day. I think I'm going to see if this place is accepting applications so I can earn some extra cash and do research for my retirement plan. I am a full-time teacher and have a master's degree, and I'm still nervous they won't hire me. You guys be good to each other. Until next time. :) xoxo

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

I'm ringing all the warning bells...

What's better than a double nonfat latte, a fat piece of carrot cake, and Pandora Radio on the first day of autumn? That's right, hoes. Nothing at all.
I'm disgustingly happy right now. This time of year is perfect. I won't repeat myself in regard to my feelings on fall, but holy crap. It hasn't even fully begun, and my mood has already significantly improved. So, don't feel uncomfortable if I'm looking at you with a creepy smile. It's not you or your face. It's a cornucopia of joyful autumn thoughts. (You like that lameness? Blame my profession.)

You know what I hate? Listening to music and hearing a song from the past that makes you want to jump off of a bridge. That's dramatic. Perhaps eyeball gouging is more accurate. Or, not really. The point life has a soundtrack. Songs remind me of people, stages, events. Sometimes they remind me of things I don't want to remember. I try not to feel animosity towards anyone or anything for ruining a song for me, but it happens. Animosity, that is. Lucky for the general population my animosity isn't that dangerous or scary. But still, it exists. [Insert silent rage fist in the air gesture here.] I won't turn this post into an Alanis Morissette song. But darn you, song ruiners. Darn you.

You know what else I hate? Feeling awkward in front of my students. I say "crap" and "suck" a lot. They just roll off my tongue naturally when I'm telling a story, or explaining things in a kid-friendly, nontechnical way. I mean, it's a habit. They always look at each other with a smile and surprised eyes when I say things. I'm pretty sure these are bad words in 6th grade. Opinions on this? I usually just tell them to grow up. I've said "poopy" before, too. Poor children. Maybe I suck. Crap, I don't know.

I'm at a coffee shop pretending to be a college kid whilst I create PowerPoints for lesson plans. There's an open mic. People are brave, and I'll leave it there. I did get to hear a cover of The Decemberists and now Tracy Chapman. I specifically remember the first time I saw Tracy Chapman. It was a very controversial moment in my life. I studied my mom's CD case for the longest time trying to figure out the sex of the person in the white button-down shirt and braids. I don't know when I finally reached a conclusion, or if I ever did. Weird day to remember, but it's remembered. And I'll sing "Fast Car" every time it's on. And when I say sing, I mean quickly mumble lyrics I don't know at all. "laldkfjldkj got a fast car. dlfkjalkfj got a ticket to anywhere. aklkjdfkj make a decision. laksjfldkjf or live and die this way." That's what it's like. No need to thank me for the clarification. And did I really just blog about Tracy Chapman?

Ok, friends. Talk to you soon. Tosh in 9 days. ACL in 15. If I cussed much, I'd cuss. Like, real cuss words. I'm that excited. xoxo

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

...and so here we go, bluebird.

New music makes me the happiest person. When I listen to a new album, it's an intense thing. You'd be uncomfortable and bored if you joined me. Kind of like watching your grandma poop. (Too much? I'm sorry.)
Basically, I sit with a beverage, open the digital booklet, and play the entire thing from start to finish, reading the lyrics as I listen in total concentration. Then, I play it again and just listen. And then one more time as a background to other activities so as to measure the motivation it gives me to be a productive citizen. For example, in listening to Sara Bareilles' new album in my apartment today, I found myself actually considering folding the clean laundry that's been sitting on my couch for 3 days. Then, I drank more wine.

In other news, I had the quintessential sucky rain experience today. It started with a wet car seat. I have no idea how this seat became wet. Sometimes my car decides to allow water inside. You mean yours doesn't? So, of course, I see water, and still, proceed to sit on water. Thus, creating the ever-so-comfortable "swamp-ass" effect. Undoubtedly, on the day I get the butt of my gray dress wet, I'm starving and out of food so I must venture to the grocery store. That was fine. Except for the awkward way I always put entirely too much into the cute little shopping basket. I consistently choose to carry those regardless of how much I might get, because they're way more glamorous than pushing around what will most definitely be the loudest, crappiest buggy in the store. However, it never fails that I put so much into the little basket that I no longer look cute, but instead, like a total dork struggling to carry the over-stocked grocery basket with two hands. Today I actually had to stop and pick things up that were falling out of it while also carrying other miscellaneous items in my armpit region. (I hope you're enjoying the accurate visual of the wet assed girl picking Lean Cuisines up off the ground.) I obviously lose and will never meet my husband at a grocery store. Unless he's into retards.
I digress.
After I get my groceries bagged (in paper, of course, because it's hip to be green), I head to the door and realize it's pouring steadily. I make a run for it with my hands full. Duh. I insert Toms into the gigantic puddle resembling the parking lot and splash around a bit. Paper bag begins to tear. I stop to catch it and get rained on for a solid amount of time. I kick more water, make it to my car, and throw bags inside. One spills. It's cool. This just means I can more conveniently reach the grapes and eat them on the drive home.
In situations like this, I wish I were the onlooker and not the victim. But such is usually my life and I've gotten used to it. Follow me around and 9 times out of 10 you'll witness something embarrassing or stupid. You'll probably also get lost.

I have crap to look forward to, y'all.
1. I take my first ever ballet class on Monday, September 13th. This could be the greatest idea I've ever had, or a complete disaster. You will be informed. Either way, I'm psyched.
2. I'm going to see a cute boy with a cute boy (and a cute couple) on October 2. Daniel Tosh is incredibly offensive, but I can't help myself. I will laugh and feel guilty for doing so all at the same time.
3. I have literally been waiting 6 years to attend the Austin City Limits Music Festival. Six years being the amount of time I spent as a poor college kid, as opposed to a not-as-poor teacher. Jess and I had tickets one year and had to bail because hurricane Rita came to town and the roads were insane with evacuees. Now, 5 years later, I have a 3-day pass to what I assume will be the greatest weekend of my life. Not to mention, I'll be with some super cool girls. AND in the ATX. These things are excellent. Hurry, October 8th.
4. I'm going to freaking Alaska November 18-22. (I used declarative punctuation in what should be an exclamatory statement simply because exclamation points can be cheesy, and the last thing I need is a cheesy blog.) My sweet friend, Leslie, has been living there for a year now and I think it's about time I visit. She moved there because she felt like it. She's basically my hero. It'll be really cold. I have to go shopping. We have fun together. This is really a win win win. (Not to be confused with go, fight, win.)
5. I'm going to go ahead and say autumn is here. The weather doesn't quite reflect this yet, but it's in my heart. And because Starbucks is the ruler of all and they've brought back the pumpkin spice latte, I'd say move over, summer. Autumn in the house. Booya. (I don't know why I went there either.)
6. The knitting needles are out. First project: a blanket large enough to cover a small child. I'll post progress because I know things like that are of high-interest to the blogging community.

Alrighty...I'm off to reconsider the laundry thing. But instead I think I'll charge my iPod. Priorities. It's about that time of year to bust out my running shoes. I'm pretty awesome at talking myself out of it when I don't have my iPod so really I'm being proactive. I actually think running without music is impossible. Kind of like mornings without coffee. Simply pointless. I'm out :)

peace, love, and donut holes.

Friday, August 6, 2010

I think my summer just ended.

I spent the morning watching JFK conspiracy theories on the History Channel, and I officially trust no one. Now I'm watching something about whether or not Hitler and Ava Brown actually committed suicide. So thank you, History Channel, for teaching me today that history kind of sucks. Have you ever thought about how much we essentially know because we trust the accounts of others? Who ever knows what's true? I mean, I realize there are primary sources and written documents to rely on, but how much of history is accounted for that way? How do I know that Hitler had one testicle and wasn't accepted into art school? Did he say that in his Mein Kampf rubbish? And how did someone decide that Alexander the Great was gay? Did he throw his javelin like a girl? I'm not discrediting the truth of modern knowledge, but I'd love to learn about the proof. How did the history book come to know this? That'd be kind of fascinating. If this teaching thing doesn't work out I'm going to become a historian. Or an exterminator. Because I've never hated anything more than a gnat, and killing one brings such satisfaction. But that is neither here, nor there.

That gives you a little taste of my life right now. My health has been kind of crummy, so I've spent a large amount of time watching TV. Shark Week never had such great timing. Although, I'm realizing how much of Shark Week repeats itself. I've often been fooled to think that The Discovery Channel was amazing for providing such infinite footage of sharks. But no...the show about shark bites WAS quite similar to the other show about shark bites. And, Air Jaws is indeed the same Air Jaws I watched 3 days prior. Just so you know.

When I finish updating you today, I'm going to go start packing my room. I basically have to move into a new apartment AND a new classroom this week. I'm trying not to hyperventilate in the reality of how much work this will require. So far, so good. But that's mostly because I'm still able to think of tons of reasons to avoid it. You blogging, considering whether or not Oswald acted alone, and mourning the loss of Berkman to the Yankees. I procrastinate until I have just the right amount of pressure built up. It's what I do. You are more than welcome to come help me. I'm so serious. In fact, I demand it. I'll buy you lattes and provide orange slices. Think about it.

Ok, friends. I'm going to go be a productive young woman. I'll let you know when I'm in my new place with another pointless post. Check ya later.