I'm in an Online Bible Study/Community Group with some Mighty Fine Ladies, and last week, we talked a lot about our blogs and becoming better writers in general.
We talked a little bit about "word vomit." While, I'm not a huge fan of that terminology...
and
It is a good way to describe, "Just Getting Things Down."
A lot of words in a small amount of time. Little to no editing.
And I thought I'd give it a whirl.
I don't want to give a lot of revealing details because I don't want to embarrass the ladies I'm about to (nicely) mention.
Last week, I went to an exercise class, and there were two really, really pretty girls in the front row.
They could have been gymnasts...or ballerinas...or movie stars. Fit. petite. tan. blonde. skinny.
I mean. Let's be honest, their attractiveness was noticeable.
So, I thought to myself, "What must it be like...to be the hottest girl in the room?"
And I know "hot" is a relative term. Tim would probably say, "They're too skinny."
And God bless Tim Young. He has a record of preferring "curvy" girls.
Hello. Have you seen me?
But in my book, they were hot.
And I realize...we all have different strengths. And I know I value "thin" and "pretty" waayyyy too much.
I feel like (maybe I'm exaggerating), but if someone could say, "Pick your weight." I would probably say, "Hi. I would like to weigh 95 pounds."
Even though I know my husband would not find that attractive (on me, personally. No offense to all you petite gals out there).
What does it say about me- the fact that I would rather look like what I think is "hot" rather than what my husband thinks is "hot?"
And I'm starting to think this whole "word vomit" thing was a bad idea. ;)
Why aren't I asking....
What is it like to be the most generous person in the room? The hardest worker? The most organized? The most financially responsible?
Like, I rarely say to myself, "She is so generous. I need to grow in that area." Or, "She is so well-read. I need to ask her for book suggestions."
But I often think, "I would pay $10,000 for her thigh gap."
And that makes me sad.
So. There we are.
I don't know. I need to try to value inner qualities more than I value the way other women look.
It's like...oh, you're pretty? Come sit by me.
You know...those surveys where they ask little girls, "Would you rather be smart or pretty?" And everyone is appalled because "OMG...96.8% of the little girls said they would rather be pretty and what is this nation coming to...we have to save the children!?!?!?"
You all.
I would totally pick "pretty." I KNOW the "right" answer is "smart." But I also believe you can handle anything as long as it is dealt with in honesty. Thank you to my friend, Susan Smith Riewerts for The Best Advice Ever circa 2007. ;)
Maybe that is the wrong question. Because it is possible to be both.
So. There's that.
Also, I've stopped getting on the scale (for now). Because the number is never good enough. If it ends in a 6, I BEG for it to end in a 5 and when it finally ends in a 5, I'm asking why the last number isn't a 4.
And that is not the pathway of Jesus.
Word vomit, word vomit. Hardy-har har.
When you see me accidentally going left when everyone else is going right it's because I'm actually writing blog posts in my head as I exercise. ;)
If we're going to compare, it should at least be in a healthy, well-balanced way, I suppose.
In other news...
Two weeks ago, I bought a pair of heels. I haven't owned a real-life pair of high heels in a long time. In fact, I remember trying some on about a year ago, and joking to the lady in the aisle,
"The year is 2013, and I'm no longer wearing heels."
In hindsight, I was tired. I don't mean "tired from shopping" or "just needed a nap."
You all.
I was tired.
And I think also a little depressed. And out of shape. Ha.
Do you get the idea or should I keep listing thangs'?
So. I bought heels. And I'm in love, I'm in love. And I am like, 2 months, "off the nail."
(I'm a 32 year old recovering nail-biter).
All good things.
I'm gonna be honest. I don't know how to end this...and I'm worried that I am making myself out to sound self-conscious and, as the kids are saying these days, "Cray cray." Read: Crazy. When, actually the opposite is true, I suppose.
So. Hooray.
In my next post, I'm going to be like, "HEY GUYS! LET'S TALK ABOUT HOW WELL BALANCED AND NORMAL I AM! EVERYONE ACT NATURAL!" ;)
One of the hardest parts about getting married is that sometimes, you will take a picture that you like of yourself...but your husband has one eye 1/2 way closed.
Tim Young. Get with the program.
So you will have to post one of each. ;)
Also, this dress is a size 14. I haven't worn a size 14 since Bush was in Office.
Hold my coffee while I cartwheel down this here hall... in my new heels.
Love and be kind.
It is funny how you can take a break from blogging, and then when you start, the floodgates open.
Get.down.all.the.words.
I am taking part in an online Community Group, and one of our writing challenges was to finish the prompt, "The first time I..."
This is a post about "The first time I predicted the future."
I was going to say, "The first time I knew you were The One..." but then I heard the sound of a thousand people gagging collectively and decided that title was just too sweet. Tooth-achingly sweet. Ha.
When I was in college, I tried to picture The Boy I Would Marry. I tried to picture Everything I Knew I Would Want.
Musical. Coffee-Lover. Athletic. Good with kids.
In some ways, it was hard to fathom, and in other ways it didn't seem like That Tall of An Order.
I pictured someone with a guitar strapped to his back holding a cup of coffee and playing soccer with a group of kids.
How ridiculous is that? Am I right? In fact, I'm even embarrassed to type that.
For a while, I thought about it kind of a lot, and then I graduated from college and once I was no longer in that private, Christian College environment where the pressure to have a relationship/get engaged feels HUGE, it never crossed my mind again.
Roughly three years later...
Enters Tim.
We weren't engaged yet, but we had been dating for a while. Being in our mid/late 20's by that time, we knew pretty early on that we weren't going to continue dating if we didn't intend on getting married. So. There was that.
We were attending a church plant that met in an Elementary School. Tim was playing in The Praise Band, and I was singing, occasionally. As a church plant, every Sunday, we participated helped by "tearing down" service. Chairs and tables were put away. Microphone cords wrapped. Speakers dismantled. On and on.
One particular day, we had parked in the side lot. (I don't know why that's relevant). I was leaving ahead of Tim and stopped to chat with a few other people who had gathered at the exit. I turned around to find Tim behind me...with his guitar strapped to his back...holding a warm beverage...kicking a soccer ball with a group of kids.
My heart stopped (in a good way) as that long-tucked-away memory came rushing back.
Isn't that the craziest, cheesiest thing ever?
What are the chances that all those elements would come together?
I DON'T KNOW, GUYS! I DON'T KNOW!
So. Then we got married and that's that.
I am like...58 different kinds of embarrassed just publishing this, and I don't know why. I have never told that to anyone ever...except for Tim, of course.
Well. So. When life starts to get a little nutty, I think about all the "things" I have been given that have TOTALLY EXCEEDED my expectations like That Tim and These dogs and The Lu's*, and I remember to not get so freaked out.
Because The Lord wants good things for us.
*My niece and nephew are named Lucy (3) & Lucas (3 months), and my sister and her husband have started calling them "The Lu's" and I think it is the cutest thing ever.
And...it's 11:16 at night.
Have a great weekend, my friends! Thanks for sticking with me!
Love and little hearts in my eyes,
May 6th is one of my favorite days. On May 6, 2005 I was in a really ridiculous accident. (I don't know what a psychologist would say about this, but I feel like it's really important to me that you know it wasn't my fault. Ha. Sometimes people just make bad choices and we suffer as a result).
With that being said, today, I am 9 years accident free, and I am pretty excited about that.
In a lot of ways, I'm so "over it." I have a weird dream, every now and then. Last year, we watched a movie ( I don't remember which one), but it was really violent (oh, that Tim!), and I was like, "Yea. I cannot watch this." Other than that, everything is aces.
Getting out of Georgetown (scene of the crime!) actually really helped in a way that both saddened and surprised me. Sometimes, you just need "out," you know? Every once in a while, an older kid would mention it. It's fine. Really.
For the most part, no one really picks at those locks anymore, and I'm grateful for it.
I'm relieved.
I always look forward to this day. It's like my own, personal holiday and I try to do something special. Today, I got to do everything I wanted.
I have said this a million times. The time period of 2012-2013 was a real bummer. Around this time a few years(ish) ago, I took a personal day and went to the zoo with Lucy & my sister. If ever a personal day/trip to the zoo was needed, it was that day. My goodness.
Once again, today, I got to be The Special Guest when my sister and her kids went to the zoo.
Just for fun, here are some photos of previous years.
It was so good being back at the zoo knowing that not only had I survived the last hard year or so, I had come out on top.
So. Between remembering my last trip to the zoo & today being what it is, I gushed all day. I gushed and gushed. We had been there for five minutes...we hadn't even gotten out of The Zoo Shop*, when I was like...almost in tears (happy tears). We met a woman holding a snake named "Dune," and Lucy (3) petted her (the snake, not the woman) with "two fingers" like the zoo worker instructed and it was the sweetest, cutest thing in the history of this entire planet and already (in my head) I was like,
"Auntie Holls (that's me), you have to hold it together."
On a totally unrelated note, I just feel like this guy really knows how to "do" life. Am I right?
I just spent the entire day being really grateful. I realize, as someone who, according to this study, had around a 15% chance of surviving, I take way too much for granted, but every year, on this day, I try to be grateful. Wow. Is it just me, or was that a lot of commas?
My sister's kids (Lucy, 3 & Lucas 3 months), are doing a fantastic job of representing light and magic and joy and everything that is good in the world. (As most children do, I don't want you thinking I am that delusional about my niece and nephew. Ha.).
So. I'm just happy. I feel like I've gotten a 9 year bonus and today I just want to squeeze everyone.
I want to squeeze That Tim. Hard. When he gets home, that's probably the first thing I'll do.
You can read a previous "Old Joy" post here. I must just really like the zoo, I guess.
*Side story. Lucy is really into "Mommies, Daddies & babies." She got this huge, purple snake at the zoo last week...then my mom gave her a little snake so she used her piggy bank money to buy this matching pink snake today. I don't know why I find this hilarious. Baby snake's name is "Hamill?" and mommy snake's name is "Flincher."
I said Lucy is really good at coming up with Hipster Baby Names.
"Hello. These are my children...Flincher & Hamill."
Ha. Do you think Flincher is the boy or the girl?
Love & I'll squeeze you, too...if you're into that sort of thing. The line starts here.
We're waiting anxiously! (Notice the gushing)
P.S. Sarah from @Girlgrows up was our Bondbons giveaway winner! :) I'll notify you privately with details about claiming your prize!
