A Thought

It's definitely bad when you don't leave the house for two days. What's worse, is when you don't even realize you haven't left the house for two days. Maybe I'll venture out come spring...

For the girls who went to Paris...

Want to know what 5 degrees feels like? Remember how cold it was in Paris, those first couple days? It's about 20 degrees colder than that. Yeah. Brr. I'm ready for spring! 50 degrees, here I come!

Going postal

Literally. I had a little freak-out session yesterday while attempting to pick up my mail from the post office.

To begin, let’s go back to last week when I opened my mailbox to find a hand written note from the mail guy telling me my mail was taken back to the Murray Station post office, and also he was begging me to pick up my mail every day. (For the record, it had only been 2 days.) It was sunny on Saturday and I thought it would be my last chance to get outside in “nice” weather. My usual PO (post office) is not Murray Station so I had to look up which one it was. One listing online said “Post Office—CPU Meijer Murray Station.” Great! It was right next to Target, where I was headed anyway. How perfect. What a great day! When I got there I discovered that the PO was inside the Meijer grocery store. Weird, I thought. But the internet said this PO was Murray so this has to be it. I go inside and ask the girl for my mail. She give me a “you’re nuts” look. She’s like “We don’t keep mail here we just accept packages.” I’m trying to explain to her that I know it’s strange but my note from the mailman said Murray Station and I looked it up and this was it. And she’s like, “This is Marburg Street.” And I’m like, “I know, but it’s Murray Station.” They didn’t have my mail. Ugh. So I left and thought, Great, all the POs will be closed by the time I get home and now I have to go outside on Monday.

Yesterday turned out to be sunny (10 degrees, but at least bearable from of the sun). I decided to look at usps.gov again to see about the whole Murray Station thing. There it is again--“Post Office—CPU Meijer Murray Station.” Obviously my mail is not there so where the heck is it?! I call the number the post guy left me and the nice lady tells me they are located on Murray Street 2 miles from my house. I look on the web again, and this time scroll down a little further...and I see “Post Office—Murray Station,” which is located on Murray Street and not inside the Meijer grocery store. Oops. Guess I should have looked more closely. Anyway, great!, close-by, easy-peasy. Right? Wrong! I found Murray Street very easily and proceeded to drive up and down the street several times trying to find a building that looked like a post office with cars in front and stuff. Where is the darn post office?!? I finally see a sign that says “entrance,” which I take to be the PO because none of the other buildings turned out to be the PO. I turn in and see what looks like the back of a building and lots of little postal cars. Well, this must be it. I follow the customer parking sign around the building…and around…and around…Where is the customer parking?! I follow another sign and it dead ends at a one way driveway. Hmm… I can see a parking lot behind the building, so I drive the wrong way and park. And then I look around and discover that the opposite side of the building also looks like the back of a building. And there’s a sign that reads “Must Have Employee ID.” This can’t be right. Where do the customers go?!?!?!?! So I drive out again, back to Murray Street, drive around, and drive back to the PO, hoping the PO has magically changed into something I can figure out. I drive back through the one-way drive, and park again. I sigh…and start screaming to myself…potential tears… Where is the post office?!? I need to get my stupid mail!?! I’ll never get my mail!!!! Cincinnati sucks!!!! Out of options, ideas, and resolve, I give up and drive back out the one-way drive (this time the correct way). I look around once more before I leave…and I see it. Four small parking spaces and a tiny, unmarked door. This can’t be it. Can this be the customer entrance? I was so confused. I parked, went in, asked for my mail and two seconds later a load of post was in my hands and I was on my way home. Apparently Murray Station is not a real post office, but the distribution center for the area. Would have been nice to know that.

It's 5 degrees outside right now...

That's all. Nothing much else can be said about that. Except...BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!

Updated wedding ideas

I figured out what was wrong with the links! Also added some new photos...

IDEAS

Flowers:
http://tinyurl.com/yw5adj
http://tinyurl.com/29pevv

Bridemaid dresses:
http://tinyurl.com/2xum5l

Cake
http://tinyurl.com/2c6mt9

Invite inspiration
http://tinyurl.com/2dwylb
http://tinyurl.com/2d2spa
http://tinyurl.com/yu5lup

STUFF I HAVE DONE!

My Save the Date Cards:
http://tinyurl.com/2bahx8

The Place:
http://tinyurl.com/25zs9z
http://tinyurl.com/293zqm

Wedding ideas

I know you’re waiting for me to post something—anything!—about wedding planning. You’re thinking, “Stop writing about the stupid weather!” You photo whores (to use a term from the Knot) want to see some ideas. Am I right? Well, I’ve been spending a lot of time on the Knot. In fact, I’ve made friends with the girls on the Orange County message boards. (Which made me sad when I realized they were in Orange County like all my other friends =( ) So wedding ideas were the last thing I felt like posting about. I’m feeling pretty calm right now, with all the major stuff taken care of: booked my place, the caterer, the DJ, the photographer, and got the Save the Date cards printed.

So damn cold!

When Paul and I left Cincinnati for a little road trip on Saturday morning, it was so warm we didn’t have to wear our winter coats. I’m talking like 50 degrees. Wow! So you can imagine our surprise and discomfort when we arrive in Chicago, at a mere 20 degrees, sans gloves and hats. Winter is always bearable in the warmth of a heated apartment, gripping a hot mug a coffee. And then you find yourself walking around the Windy City (and I mean windy!) and you think "I’m never moving to Chicago!!” The walk from the train back to the car was so painfully cold; I’ve never been so cold in my life. We had a really fun weekend visiting Paul’s twin and his new wife, eating Chinese and deep dish pizza, and seeing downtown. But I was excited to get back to sunny, warm Cincinnati. So you can imagine our surprise and discomfort when we arrive in front of Paul’s house, at a mere 19 degrees, sans gloves and hats. What the heck?! I was practically crying the whole drive back to my house I was so uncomfortably cold. It’s still 20 degrees out. Like I need more motivation to not leave my house...

Snow day!

It finally snowed! Real snow. We had several inches (3 or 4) overnight on Saturday and we woke up to a beautiful winter wonderland! Plus, snow doesn't get plowed until noon, so we had a snow day from church! (should I be less excited about that???). Paul and I went for a late breakfast and then on a snow walk near my house. Here are a couple pics:

Happy birthday to me!

I can see some snow flurries falling right outside my window. A birthday snow just for me! (Hope it doesn’t snow too hard…I have to drive to my birthday massage.) No matter how old (or how depressed) I am, I always get excited on my birthday. Birthdays are special. I feel special on my birthday, and feeling special is hard to come by. I want attention on my birthday, even though I claim I don’t. I like that I’m the only one getting presents. (And honestly, I’m still a little bitter about my sister opening a wedding gift on my birthday. Well, ha! It’s my turn now.) I was thinking yesterday how funny it was, the dichotomy of birthday feelings. There’s this conflicting mix of feeling incredibly excited and special and also feeling fairly depressed. Birthdays remind me of how much I haven’t accomplished, and, frankly, that I’m closer to death. But I think it was Paul that reminded me that just because I haven’t done something by the time I’m 29 it doesn’t mean I’ll never do it. I could argue, What if I die tomorrow without doing it? But then, when I’m in heaven I’ll probably have better things to think about.

When will it ever end???

It’s been raining nonstop since Friday night at 10pm. Nonstop. I don’t think people in California realize what this means. When Californians say it’s been raining constantly they mean there have been intermittent showers during the night, or that it’s been raining heavily for an hour. Here in Cincinnati it has a completely different meaning. While it hasn’t been a constant heavy downpour, there has been water falling from the sky without ceasing for almost 60 hours. Okay, so 60 hours doesn’t seem like that much when you put it in other terms—2 and a half days. But on the third day of waking up with bright hopes of sunshine (or least not having to don--again--ugly black boots), and your dreams are shattered, then 60 hours seems like an eternity. Oh precious rays of light where are you?!

Friends

For someone shy, making friends is an endeaver, one not to be executed easily. And I’m learning that older you get the harder it is to make friends. In elementary school and high school, it’s your purpose in life to make friends, to “hang” out, tell each other secrets. In college, everyone is in the same place—friendless—and meeting people is easy. But in that post-college, post-right-out-of-college stage, not everyone is looking for a best friend. In fact, people’s friend-meters are about at their limit, and even having coffee with another person is more than they can take.

So making friends is hard. But then you add making friends while wanting to spend time with your fiancé, making friends as a couple, and making friends in the same life stage (married, no kids) and the task seems Herculean. I was reminded this morning how great it is to have friends in different life stages—it reminds us from where we’ve come and gives us perspective on where we’re going. I was also reminded that it’s okay to feel lost, or confused, or overwhelmed when life switches stages. And that God’s love and grace mean we don’t have to handle it well. I don’t have to “handle it" at all. That said, is it too much to ask to meet one married person who doesn’t have children?

I was talking to an older friend the other day. I told her that a certain guy doesn’t understand how I feel, and she said get used to it—he’s a guy and he’ll never understand. It’s true—with each other, guys talk about topics (sports, theology, movies, etc.) So they can relate no matter what stage of life they’re in. But when girls talk, they share their life experiences (school, guys, kids.) So it’s a lot harder to relate to someone when you can’t share their experiences. And it’s hard for a guy to understand why I need friends without kids.

I cherish those friends that I will have and love no matter how different our lives are. And I know I'm not being entirely willing and open-minded. It just would be nice to have a friend who doesn’t need to find a babysitter every time we get together and meet a group of girls whose conversation isn’t centered around diapers.

My extremely generous mom bought me a sewing machine right before I left for Ohio. I immediately put it to use making a laptop bag for myself. I had all this extra fabric as well as a lack of laptop bag. Plus I had never made a purse before and wanted to give it a try. I have to say that I’m pretty dang impressed with myself. The bag is far from perfect—there are no right angles and my uneven stitching is pretty obvious. It could never pass for store-bought. But fortunately, I’m not a perfectionist nor am I looking for extra cash, just a creative outlet.

As cute as the bag turned out, I vowed never to make another laptop bag again. I had to re-sew every seam five times. Why? I completely lack spatial intelligence. I would think that I was sewing sides together correctly, but they always ended up backward or inside out. I just can’t think that way. But I guess now I’ve worked out all the kinks. Just in time because my sister immediately asked for her own bag. But don’t get any ideas...

Winter wonderland

We finally had our first snowfall. It always amazes me when I go to bed and the world looks one way, and then I wake up with it covered in a blanket of snow. When I look outside in the morning and am taken aback by the fluffy white, I smile, and get all excited, and run to look out every window. I’m so eager, much like a five year old on Christmas, to see the new world from every angle. The excitement of a first snowfall will never get old.

Luckily, here in Cincinnati it’s too warm to get much snow or for the snow to stick around (no pun intend) for very long. Already it’s melted in the streets. (But it did stay long enough for me to have an excuse to skip going to the gym.) At the same time, that is the saddest part--when the snow melts. Instead a sense of wonder, with a soft, white veil making the world seem pure, you start to see reality. The world begins to look unclean, slushy, bleak. And you go back to work and get on with your adult life, leaving the child in you behind.

Revisiting Bloomington

I visited "Adventures of a Heckler" today, hoping for some inspiration along with an update. It came through! Heather was talking about Biola and I was inspired to write about my college. As is happens, this past weekend Paul and I visited Bloomington, Indiana, the home of my alma mater, Indiana University.

IU is about 2.5 hours from here, a nice little drive, mostly two lanes through small towns. Paul and I had a fun afternoon together, just walking and driving around, soaking up the incredible sun on our cold-chapped cheeks. We visited the local winery—free tasting!—and then went for a “hike” near Monroe Lake. It was really nice to share such a huge part of my past with Paul. I got so excited telling him everything about all the buildings on campus, and showing him my apartments and my church, and taking him along the paths I walked to class. It made me wish that Paul was with me when I was at IU.

I revisited Bloomington for the first time about a year after I graduated. That trip was a time of closure for me. I was really reluctant to leave school—for all the things I didn’t like about being there—and had not quite gotten over that until I went back and really said goodbye. This time around, I had some realizations, among them how much the experience at IU was worth it. Because I had been thinking that maybe I regretted going there. But walking around campus and around town and seeing all the things I loved and all things I had never visited made me realize that what I regretted were the opportunities I missed while I was at IU. If you can, just imagine a more reserved, fearful, hesitant version of myself. I had not yet learned the virtues of risk, of stepping out and meeting people, trying new things, and reaching beyond my comfort zone. I tended to only a few close friends and many hours alone with some books. So, I missed out on many things.

This recent trip also made me realize that even with my regrets, I wouldn’t exchange IU for anything because of what I did experience there. Foremost, it is the place and moment I personally encountered God. I became a Christian my sophomore year at IU through Campus Crusade. And then there was the independence I gained at school. I could never put my finger on why I went so far from home. But I needed that escape, that refuge, and that break, and I needed to force myself to rely on me. Bloomington is a bite-sized city, easily navigable, underwhelming, and centered on IU. It gave me the training wheels I needed to become an independent adult. And, of course, there are the friendships I would never give up, the closest of which ultimately led me to Paul.

I’m just now realizing that the regrets from school have prompted me to pursue things since then. I have experienced so much in the last few years for fear of having more regrets. And the Bloomington trip reminds me of how I need to experience life here in Cincinnati, despite sometimes feeling overwhelmed and alone. Because if I ever leave, I do not want to leave a trail of regrets in my wake.

My solution for relieving holiday stress

Is it just me, or does it seem like holidays—those things are meant to bring families together—only serve to tear families apart? Holidays bring on so much stress and too many decisions, along with feelings of guilt and frustration, often even before the holiday itself actually arrives. And then there are the dynamics surrounding the actual day the family members are all lodged into the same room.

My solution is to forgo the federal Thanksgiving holiday in favor of an individual family holiday. Why aren’t the Republicans in Congress fighting for this decentralized, practical solution for reliving holiday stress? If every family chose their own Thanksgiving day—say May 24 or February 3—think of all the pain it would end. Families still get a day set aside for feasts and gatherings. But everyone gets to choose a day that works best for them, a day two million other people are using to mow the lawn or get a manicure. Think about it. No young couple has to decide which in-laws to visit and no massive holiday traffic. And the best part? Your family is totally free to choose not to even have their own Thanksgiving day. Should you choose not to participate, no one will be the wiser. You can spend May 24 or February 3 like any other day of the year and people will think your Thanksgiving is on July 18. And of course businesses will get in on the action, giving everyone a floating “day after Thanksgiving holiday” to be used at their discretion. I’m going to write my congressman...

Time to give up on Lost

When watching a TV show becomes an obligation it’s probably time to stop. Paul subtly pointed this out to me the other day. Does anybody watch Lost anymore? I watched the first few episodes of the season. They were better than I expected, so I continued to tape the last few weeks (because I’m busy while it’s on live). Every time I went to watch TV I always wanted to watch something other than Lost. And then I’d think, But I should watch Lost..., though I never did. I was feeling guilty about not watching a TV show! I thought I was letting Lost down. Paul said it was okay for me not to watch it. But I felt like I was giving up on something I was committed to. I had invested two years (50 hours!) of my life to this show. Lost had its "fall finale" (how lame is that?), so I don’t have to feel torn anymore. I’m hoping to pick up a new show in its place.

I was recently reading an article about how all the new shows this season are serial dramas (like Lost and 24). When something does well everybody wants in. But the problem is, serial dramas require a lot of time on the part of a viewer. They have to watch every episode and pay attention the entire time too. The article pointed out that viewers only have enough time and energy to devote to one or two shows like that. So true!

I'm a bad American

Today I’m becoming one of those people I usually give lectures to. I (gasp!) am not voting. Some people may not think that a big deal. Those would be the people to whom I usually say clichés like “It’s your duty as an American” and “You shouldn’t take it for granted.” Well, I guess I’m taking it for granted. This is the first time I haven’t voted in a regular election (I’m not counting primaries). I feel guilty. Especially since last night, while Paul was diligently conducting research and writing out his choices, I was sewing a purse. I’m also really going to miss wearing my “I voted” sticker today.

I do take come comfort in the fact that not voting is not entirely an act of laziness and indifference. First of all, I’ve been a little distracted lately—what with moving, meeting new people, trying to find a church, changing my address, setting up cable, etc. So, I didn’t get a chance to register to vote in Ohio. So, can’t vote here. Which is a shame because there are two smoking (one for and one against) propositions which I’d really like to vote for (and against). Also, my absentee ballot for California is sitting at my parents’ house. It’s not like I can just drop by and get it, right? And why do I care about voting for California assembly people? I don’t live there. But then again, California has a big impact on national politics, so maybe it would have been a good idea...

I usually struggle with voting. I never want to, but I do because I feel it is my duty as an American and I shouldn’t take it for granted. My parents instilled in me that voting is a privilege and a responsibility. But, as you all know, I’m totally indecisive. I never have strong opinions and I always see both sides of the issue. So, having to make 500 decisions in one five-minute period is really overwhelming. Overwhelming to the point of giving up and just voting for governor. Speaking of governor, I read the Schwarzenegger’s likely landslide is one of the only bright spots for the Republicans. Wow, Phil Angelides must really suck.

Happy voting!

Why I'm too busy to read The New York Times

I always complain that I never know enough about what's going on in the world. And I bemoan that fact that I don't have enough time to read The New York Times articles. I read the Yahoo! news headlines--that's the extent of my news. And yet, I can spend an hour reading the articles on "The Onion," which have absolutely no relevance to my life (or anyone else's). They're more pointless than reading In Style or Real Simple. At least with those you get fashion tips or learn new uses for Ziplock bags.

I've come to accept this about myself. And in honor of that I decided to start posting an article link from "The Onion" (http://www.theonion.com/) each week. For those unfamiliar with "The Onion," it's basically a fake newspaper. Completely politically incorrect, but completely funny. I'll try not to post anything offensive but I can't promise anything.

Here it is:
Americans Celebrate 10 millionth 'Bring Yourself to Work Day'
http://www.theonion.com/content/node/54595

Addendum to yesterday’s post

This morning I was reading Romans 14:

“1Accept him whose faith is weak, without passing judgment on disputable matters. 2One man's faith allows him to eat everything, but another man, whose faith is weak, eats only vegetables. 3The man who eats everything must not look down on him who does not, and the man who does not eat everything must not condemn the man who does, for God has accepted him. 4Who are you to judge someone else's servant? To his own master he stands or falls. And he will stand, for the Lord is able to make him stand.”

In light of what I wrote yesterday, I thought this was appropriate. Perhaps there was a reason for my lingering guilt. The guilt that resurfaced again last night at small group. Their faith and views may be different than mine, but I’m not better than them and I’m in no position to judge.

One of the mega-church girls said to me, I’m more of a spiritual person. I’m not really into the Bible. It just doesn’t apply to my life. I told her I understood, but that I did not feel that way at all. I was thinking about that conversation this morning, and it made me sad. And I realized that’s Crossroads Church is not for me. The sermons, the small groups, are not centered around Scripture. Yes, they quote Bible verses, and the church believes in the authority of the Bible (they subscribe to inerrancy in fact.) But in the Sunday morning services, the Bible is mostly absent. I think they don’t want to scare people or make them feel uncomfortable. And, in a way, what they’re doing is good. A lot of people are being exposed to the character of God. But I think avoiding the Bible is what makes it irrelevant to people. If you can’t see how Scripture is woven into your life, how to pray it and worship through it, of course you would think it’s irrelevant. I may be totally wrong on this (but please don’t mention it to me).

I was listening to a Beth Moore sermon last week. One thing I love about her is that she is so passionate about the Word of God. Her love for Scripture pours out as a drink offering. And it inspires passion in others. I wonder if the girl who said the Bible isn’t relevant heard Beth Moore, what she would think.

Up in smoke

My mega-church small group girls got together last night, just to have some girl time and not have to talk about Captivating. I really like talking to these girls—they’re a group of girlie girls who like Pilates, and clothes, and dancing. It’s easy to feel comfortable around them.

The evening was relaxing, moving along smoothly, munching salsa dip and nearly emptying their glass of Pinot Noir. So, you can imagine my utter shock when most everyone said yes to a second glass of wine and bumming a smoke off the hostess. I about fell over. Everyone wanted to smoke except for the pregnant girl. And she was lamenting not being able to smoke cloves anymore. Huh?! If these girls were plopped down in California, I wonder if they would be smoking? They’re social smokers, not chain smokers. But still. I just haven’t met any young church girls who smoke since college.

My first thought after the night was over was the irony—all the conservative girls who don’t drink or smoke are back in California (fightin’ off those crazy liberals!). And then my second thought was Maybe I’m one of those Christians who don’t like to hang out with “the sinners.” Am I? I wonder if I was judging those girls just because they were smoking. I mean, the same girls who were smoking were the ones who go to bars and sleep with their boyfriends (and this is not an assumption, it’s a fact straight from the horses’ mouth). Was I assuming I was better than them because I don’t enjoy doing those things? But I don’t see anything wrong--morally anyway--with have a glass of wine and smoking a clove. (I’d like to admit how much I enjoyed my own glass of wine.) The situation just made me feel uncomfortable. Totally out of my comfort zone. And then it made me think how much I probably live in a bubble and need to get out of my comfort zone every once in a while. And that it might be a good idea to “hang out with the sinners” and take the speck out of my own eye. I’ll probably never get around to doing that, but it’s a noble thought.