When it rains...

   I always have so much trouble with this one-- awaken? awoken? awakened? awook?
     Well whatever it is, it happened to me around 3:20 am this morning. I had left my back porch light on before going to bed, so upon looking out, I was able to see the monsoon just outside my window pane. Whoa.
    I really don't keep up with the forecast the way I should, and my aeromancy skills are slim to none. I had not made myself aware the night before of the approaching downpour, else I would have prepared my car ahead of time (believe me!).  My yard, garage, and driveway are all surrounded by trees, so whenever the wind begins to pose a threat, I always try to quickly get parked in the garage.
     I lugged my drowsy self downstairs to the back door and took a second look outside. Whoa. After 20 minutes and chickening out once or twice, conditions were not improving, and I knew it was time to bite the bullet-- but my umbrella was in the car. Of course it was!! I had no choice but to get creative. I threw on some shoes and went tearing outside at almost 4 in the morning with a big glass bowl on my head. That's right.
    I should mention that directly in front of my garage door, the driveway pavement dips a little, so "when it rains it pools" in front of my garage. I splashed through the small harbor and threw the garage door open. With the first challenge down, I darted to the car and got in as quickly as I could. Thinking I had a cozy moment to drain off, I looked around the car. It was soaked in there. I thought, "What?? The door was open for half a second!!" That's when I realized it-- I had completely forgotten about leaving the 2 front windows open a crack to keep the car cool. Insult to injury.
     Finally after parking safely in the garage, I splashed back through the harbor. At this point, my pants were so soaked they were falling off my body. I headed back inside at 4 in the morning with a large glass bowl under one arm, an umbrella in one hand, and my waistband in the other. Sweet mother of Jesus, I hope the neighbors were all asleep.
    And then hours later my news feed is filled with all your updates. "What storm??"  "I slept right through it!!"
     Well, that's just precious.

  

All the Single Ladies

       I trust most of you are sharp learners. Likely you've noticed there are some qualities I avoid and name tags I hope my life will never sport. "Typical". "Average". "Common". "Cliche". "Standard".
   In being completely honest with you, one of the "typical" things that perturbs me is the way pretty little twenty-somethings approach the covenant of marriage. Frankly, the Midwestern Christian community  is by far the most guilty.
    That brings me to the Almighty Disclaimer. If you're married, you can pretty much ignore this post in its entirety unless I've intrigued you. 98% of the people I know have done exactly what I'm addressing. If you fall into that percentile, I hope  your choices have worked out beautifully-- and if so, FABulous. I'm thrilled for you. Expect a card in the mail. The point I aim to make is not that you made the WRONG choice, but that I believe there are BETTER choices twenty-somethings can elect as an alternative to the "typical" path. 
   Have you ever noticed how just about EVERYBODY lives their life the same way?? Go to college, have a ring by last semester of senior year, get married and have 2-4 baaabies by 26. Awwwww!
   Yawn. It seems to me, if a female has held on to a guy for a year and is over the age of 20, she figures it's time to tie the knot-- especially if she just graduated college. "I'm here, he'll have me, I'm of legal age. Let's make this thing official."
I may ruffle some feathers by saying this, but that is called "settling". Let's say you are looking down from a helicopter, waiting for your turn to skydive. If you're flying over water, clearly it is neither the time nor the place to jump. Well, neither is it the time nor place the instant you spot your first glimpse of land! There could be skyscrapers down there! You could find your body-- or in this case your marriage-- severed in half, wishing you had done your research and awaited a better time or opportunity.
   I used to be one of those girls who thought life did not truly begin until my single-girl days ended. Let me tell you, I feel PATHETIC for ever letting myself be so brainwashed. If you're still that girl/dude, I must lovingly ask you: Do you have any idea how boring marriage is (in comparison to what your fantasy believes)?? Do you have any idea how much daily work it is? Do you have any idea how much you have to compromise and sacrifice? Do you have any idea how many THOUSANDS more people you're going to meet before your life is over??
  For those of you young twenty-somethings currently contemplating marriage with your your equally young significant other, let's stop and think for a moment. Let's say, Lord willing, you live to be 75. You're REALLY so impatient that you cannot wait 1-2 more years to be sure of what you're doing? That's 3% of your lifespan. So it's 3% and be certain NOW, or spend roughly 62% of your life with the possibility of misery and regret. Seems like an obvious investment. The big picture shows there is NO rush!!
   Unless your precious "biological clock" is tick-ticking away (which is another discussion entirely), you have your entire life to get married. Divorce rates are up there, and no one is invincible-- but they absolutely plummet after the age of 28. Know why? Because like fine wines, individuals have taken time to mature with age. They have gotten to know themselves  and have a better understanding of what they want and need in a spouse. Patience and maturity are key marital components, and those who have waited to marry undoubtedly posses those traits. There's more to life than marriage and babies-- and by that I don't mean superior alternatives. I mean great additional things that people tend to skip past and neglect because of their impatience.
      Experience life without limits before you white-picket-fence yourself in. I promise, someday you will be a better spouse for it.
 

Van the Man

    I finally get to do a little brag blogging! Today is the birthday of my father and friend. Often times I hope for the opportunity to tell people why I think he's so wonderful, and June 17th throws me the perfect pitch-- but where on earth do I begin??
    My dad is the epitome of all that stuff Christ is always saying: "Turn the other cheek. Love. Be kind. Be honest. Be good. Be giving/ caring/ wise/ disciplined/ hard-working/ merciful." Sheesh-- I can barely think of a strength he does not  portray.
    I don't know what translation of the Bible he owns, but it much really push being goofy on its readers. He's such an oddball. Like, he thinks peanut butter pairs with everything. Have I ever told you the one where I found him eating peanut butter and chicken broth out of a saucepan ?? No one has made me laugh harder than that man. Once we were touring a house my brother was thinking about buying, and my dad stole ice cubes out of the owners' freezer... because he loves eating ice. Who does that???
         He knows when it's time to laugh and be dad. Just as well, he knows when it's time to step up and be my father, and motivate me to step up as well. In all the jet black moments in my life, I can't think of one that was absent my father. He never fails to set a premium example when he's at church, at work, or even on his own couch. My dad and I have been through hell together on more than one occasion. Thanks to him, it has always been a round trip.

    I will long count on looking to him to seek a model of the balance I've talked about recently. He has found so much balance in his years: husband and father. Accomplishment and humility. Accountability and encouragement. Love and strength. Loyalty and candor.  Justice and mercy.

       One June morning I landed in his cradling arms in a pink blanket-- and every day since those same arms have consisently reached, directed, and embraced me, and inspired me to make better use of my own limbs.
     Happy Birthday to my hero, who is loved and admired by his community-- and probably getting a little embarassed by now. ;)
                         

                                                           He's a Jolly Good Fellow

  

Blackjack

      Sha-BAM! Made it to 21. And while I'm up for a midnight snicky-snack, I thought I'd voice a little of what's on my heart as I flip past the last page of chapter 20.
  Last year was a hard birthday for personal reasons. I was in a very adverse place in my life,
 and it was a bit of a "just survive" day. Not so this year. Thank God.
       I really believe it was just a series of unfortunate events over the past 5 or 6 years that has turned me into quite the "shutter-outer" of people. I never thought I'd see the day where I would become weary of that-- but here I am. 
     I think it was a couple dark or empty moments recently that had me looking around wondering where everyone was. I couldn't figure out why no one was reaching out to me in an hour of need. It didn't take long for me to put 2 and 2 together. I hadn't been reaching out either! I haven't been participating in much give OR take with you fellow mortals. Too risky.
     I'm committed to taking a new direction with myself. I'm in a very peaceful place in my life-- no chaos, no adversity, minimal stress. I finally reached a point where I'm able to really give of myself and I am SO ready to start doing so. Is it scary?? ... Well, actually, no. I get to exhale for once. It's nice to stop playing defense on auto-pilot. I finally get how to change "walls" into reasonable and effective boundaries.
   I'm finding so much balance these days-- balance between connecting with people and maintaining that boundary. Between thinking and doing, being perfect vs. having control. When to speak up and when to shut up. Being a better listener and being more understanding. I don't need to be that girl who keeps people away anymore; I'm tired of her. It's OK to say no, and more importantly, it's OK to say YES to life and its opportunities.
      But boy, do old habits die slow.

Violation Station

Last night was a bit of an ironic one.
(And let me state for the record: I don't usually stay up this late like I used to, so don't jump all over me for that.)
      It was around midnight when I was driving south-bound down Fleur, on my way to meet my friend Rachel at Hy-Vee. While still a couple blocks away, I was stopped at a red light next to another driver. An orange SUV turned left onto Fleur veeery slowly. Orange SUV turned into the other driver's lane but was still almost halfway in mine. At first I assumed this person was indecisive or not paying attention, so I gave a few seconds of grace, when OSUV swerved into MY lane. I HOOOONKED as loud as Warren (my car) would screech. When OSUV seemed to have no reaction whatsoever, I suspected a certain "influence" was at play. He continued to swerve in and out of lanes with no warning.
     Along came my turn to go to Hy-Vee, but my instincts objected. If OSUV was, in fact, drunk off his/her arse, no way could I just let him/her go-- so on I drove. Suddenly he/she took off and sped down the street faster than a cat in a thunderstorm. And so did I. Sure, I felt a little guilty for speeding, but I figured if ever there was a reason this was it. When OSUV drove into a median, I was good and certain he/she was trashed out of his/her mind. Without another moment of hesitation, I was on the phone with 911 giving the scoop. I presented all the information I had, including the plate number. At that point it was out of my hands. I had to let go, turn back around and go meet up with Rachel.
     Fast forward to a few hours later. I left Rachel's house around 3 am. When I was 6 blocks away from home, I was eager to arrive since the evening's earlier experience left me uncomfortable driving so late. OK, so I guess I was a little too eager. I got pulled over. 15 minutes and $74 later....
     I will say the officer went VERY easy on me and didn't fine me NEARLY as hard as he could and should
have. I'm not saying I didn't deserve a ticket or it's unfair that I got pulled over, but I can't help but be a bit annoyed. On Fleur, I had gone 2 miles out of my way and undoubtedly risked my life to get OSUV off the road-- and the likelihood that he/she ever met a pair of handcuffs that night is slim.
      Evidently karma stepped out for the holiday weekend. I don't know-- you tell me if you find all this to be poetic justice or cruel irony. I believe it to be more toward the latter.
     Oh, and dad, if you're reading this-- sorry. 0:)

Summer Clashion

     I best just get the lecture out of the way. Summer is right around the corner. To some that means picnics, baseball, heatstroke... to me it means fashion train wrecks with no escape.
   16-22 year old girls are by FAR most guilty. Let's face it; they use the first sign of heat as an excuse to dress like trash. Spaghetti straps and short-shorts do not, an ensemble, make. I just know it-- they've been bundled in their Snuggie all winter-- hemming that pair of glorified denim undies shorter and shorter, just waiting for the first 66º day. Girl, puh-lease. Build a bridge and get over yo-self.
  I do have a few suggestions up my quarter-length sleeve to keep it classy when the day sizzles and the nights steam. (Pictorials borrowed from J.Crew).

  First and MOST importantly-- footwear. (I really want you to know that there's nothing I hate more than feet. They are the ugliest and most disgusting part of the human body; I can hardly bear to speak of them, so I get extra credit for this one. Hopefully in the end, this paragraph is an investment in humanity.) MEN: you look weird in open-toed shoes. Save them for the beach. End of discussion. Ladies: No one wants to see your feet either-- however, keeping you away from sandals is like trying to stop a downhill stampede. If you INSIST on wearing flip-flops, invest in a well-made feminine pair. Please don't do the $2 thing at Old Navy. Cheap flip-flops look-- cheap. Before you can blink, they look worn and dirty, and so do your feet. Yuuuck. Buy flip-flops that have a sheen to them, like a metallic.
 No foam, no rubber. And for CRYIN' in the night-- if you are going to exercise your "rights" to open-toed footwear, keep your southern-most appendages (got sick of saying the word) looking presentable. None of this "I didn't exfoliate today", chipped polish and toe rings nonsense. Offensive.

 Bottoms:

   I love shorts that hit right where the upper and mid thigh meet. To ME, that seems to be

the most flattering length. By the way, are cropped pants with ballet flats not adorable??
  

 Tops: 
     Home stretch of my rant. This one's easy: nice tanks and t-shirts with some embellishment. Plain layering tanks are for layering. Try to stay away from any verbiage on your clothing.
                    
                       

 Summer fashion can easily stay classy. Don't neglect accessorizing. The bare minimum looks boring and-- bare!! I leave you with these words, so relevant to summer fashion:
    If you're not going to do it right, don't do it at all.*
                                     *But please remain clothed.

    

  

Haphazard Thoughts

   -Guys aren't usually much for kitchens. The only men who want to bake ARE baked.

   -I'm surprised the suicide rate among cake decorators isn't higher.

   -I used to think spring was overrated.
  
   -Who eats cooked fruit?? Ok, maybe apples.

   -I've been learning so much lately about how to connect with people.

  -I love to form my own can-can line between 2 parallel mirrors. Pfff, try telling me you've never done it.

  -Skinny jeans with flip flops look wrong. Flip flops in general are wrong. That's a whole 'nother blog (and it will be).
 
  -I never liked brownies until I ate a frozen one.

-Once I saw a motorcyclist out with no helmet. But the greater offense: he paired a denim
  jacket with jeans. No, no, no.