Closing Time

   For six months now I have lived in Atlanta, and many of you have asked how life is for me here. Excellent question.
    The transition made for a very turbulent landing. It took a lot of pain, frustration, deep depression, emptiness, incentive, motivation, positive thinking, hard work, and reward for me to accept this colossal change. It's beginning to pay off beyond what I had hoped for.
   One week I was feeling particularly defeated because I was more stuck than I ever knew a person could be. Not without taking some time to sulk, I shared this with Povey. We decided to DO something about it.

     1. I started volunteering. I happened to find this awesome cafe that's owned and operated by a nearby Buddhist meditation center. Coincidentally, I had expressed a desire to learn more about Buddhism just a couple weeks prior. It's such a great place-- vegetarian, organic, healthy, eco-friendly (side note, I'm told Woody Harrelson stopped in while he was filiming Hunger Games). They must have seen a spark of potential in me because after a couple weeks, they hired me as a cook in the kitchen.

    2. We set a wedding date. 

    3. We bought a beautiful condo right in the heart of midtown, which we just closed on today. It's a fantastic location. Once moved in, we can walk to countless places: Piedmont Park, Olympic Park, the house where Gone with the Wind was written, the famous Fox Theater, not to mention a train station that takes us right to Turner Field, the Georgia Dome, Phillips Arena, the airport-- just to name a few. Plus I could throw a rock at like, 4 different restaurants right from our balcony.

 

                              

 Lobby

 Our view

The famous Biltmore Hotel, visible from the balcony

 Champagne and pizza on the floor, taken the day we closed

Thank you for all your thoughts and well-wishes over the past few months and years. Finally, finally, finally, life is in full and happy swing. 

Georgia on my Mind

     Long time, no blog. Enough putting this one off.
  Six or seven times now I've stepped up to the plate to write this specific entry, and not once have I been satisfied with the compound. It was always more heaviness and intensity than I care to expose. I'll try this again, my lite, reduced fat, sweetened condensed adaptation of the story.
    It's been a tough 6, 8, however many months. Late last year, Povey came over and told me he had a job offer in Atlanta. I waited a moment for him to correct his clumsy mispronunciation of the city of Atlantic, Iowa. But he never did.
   Weeks turned into months, a job offer turned into an accepted offer, and paradise turned into trouble in paradise. Every single moment of what felt like years, I was swallowed in a hurricane of questions. I'd asked them all before in my life, but this time I had to have answers. What do I do? What do I want? What do I know for sure? What is my purpose in life? What kind of woman do I want to be, and how can I make it happen? What do I want to do, and where do I want to do it? Where does this leave me? Or rather, where does it take me? From whom will I be forced to walk away?
     Somewhere in there my fear evolved into anger, and though I was well-aware my anger was unreasonable, it was still there, waiting to pounce just below the surface. It wasn't fair to put it on him. It wasn't fair to put it on his new employer. It wasn't fair to put on any of my friends; they had nothing to do with it. So I put it on myself. I would cry myself to sleep, go to work and not talk about it, go home, repeat.
            I can laugh (um, a little) now about how pissed off I was. I was mad at the entire state of Georgia. For a while I couldn't even say or hear the word Atlanta. I resented anything I saw that was peach-flavored. And if I saw an Atlanta team playing on TV, you bet I couldn't change the channel fast enough. Well, that would be true any time (sports, ick), but I hit that channel button extra hard!
   After great loss of countless hours of sleep, buckets of tears, and a few fistfuls of hair, I still had to come to a choice. This has been the most confusing, heartbreaking, and painful decision I've ever had to make. But it's made.
        Life begins at the end of your comfort zone. I'm moving to Atlanta sometime in the fall. On the day I decided, it was cloudy outside, and I swear the minute I made up my mind, the sun came out. Things certainly didn't get easier after that, though. I've never had such high highs and low lows all at once.
                    This happened, and it was glorious.

          
           It was tragic for me, too, because it meant the beginning of the end of life as he and I knew it here.

    Outside of all this, the past few years have been "eventful". Real, character building stuff. Even though those events have all left me, and I have left them, I could stand to inhale in the space of a fresh new life. Of course a new life comes with its own set of obstacles, but those new challenges will entail learning how to thrive, rather than seeking shelter from yet another storm. I've been in the shelter too long now.
            New chapter, new setting. Georgia, the road leads back to you.

Note to Self

    Any pair of pants is only as good as the pockets stitched within. I don't know who came up with vertical or diagonal pockets, or why. They are foolishly unflattering and won't hold on to a damp lollipop if you've taken enough steps.
    A few mornings ago I stepped into what I thought was a favorite pair of loyal dress pantaloons. Putting my hands in the pockets to stuff them into place, I noticed they felt all wrong. I looked down-- diagonal? I had mistakenly picked up a pair that I hadn't worn (okay, or washed) in weeks (okay, months). I know why I never wear them, but why did I buy them?? I had forgotten all about those pants, and all about the note I had written to myself and left in the right pocket.

        "What if I make a mistake?
          What if I can correct my mistakes?
          What if I will be grateful for my mistakes?
          What if I really learn from this?
          What if it all turns out alright?"

 What if I asked myself those questions more often?


 

Quiet on the Home Front

    I doubt you haven't noticed my blog has been in suspension of late.
 The last 6 months took me on quite a ride: friendship stuff, relationship stuff, family stuff, more relationship stuff, more family stuff, work stuff, more family stuff.
    The (e)motion sickness is bound to subside at any moment. Friendship stuff: great. Relationship stuff: great. My job is about to take me on an entirely new roller coaster of opportunities I've worked LONG and hard for, and I am pumped!
  Don't be too astounded if it stays quiet around here. Recent life experience has altered me to become exponentially more private. With that said, my desire to start a food blogging project is growing ever stronger, so I may have that cast iron in the fire.
            Stay tuned, kids.

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