Blogs are great for people who have cute kids (or a pet that they consider equally as important as a child), are pregnant, watch tv shows consistently, like to cook, and who travel. I don't belong in any of these categories and blogging has kind of fallen on my priority list.
Sometimes I have a good story or two from work, but I'd rather not write something in a sarcastic commentary and be miss-interpreted.
I would love to write my thoughts on things that matter like politics and education and philosophy and religion, but I think I'll start another blog for that, make it private, and invite only myself.
I have though, done some stupid things, and stupid things are always good to post on blogs because then people can laugh at you and they won't equate your actions with your character. (That sounds like a Dostoyevsky-esque thought. Any Crime and Punishment fans out there?)

1. I was making rice. Plain, white, simple, rice. I decided to rinse it as I learned in China, 3 times before you boil it. I put it in a strainer/collander to rinse and it seemed to have decreased in volume. I must have lost a few grains in the process, I thought...
It showed up an hour later when I tried to unclogg my sink and the entire sink shook, then the disposal switch shocked me. Water and rice poured out from under the sink and spewed EVERYWHERE!!! I learned a lesson that day, that rice grains are smaller than the holes in a strainer. [That last sentence is satire.]




2. I'm sitting with a heating pad on my back right now and I have no idea why! For some strange reason my back is tweaked and I can hardly move. At work I get bored sitting, so I prop my feet up on the PC box (I think it's actually called a desktop or tower). It makes a nice footstool while I twist and lean in to work at my desk. When that gets uncomfortable I draw both of my feet up and perch on the swivel chair craining my neck to see over my knees. The most comfortable position though, is one knee up, the other twisted in front of me on the "footstool" and one arm writing at my desk while I have my body and neck strained to look at the computer. Oh, right, tangent. I was mentioning my sore back. Does anyone else have sudden onset backaches?

3. I received my letter of rejection "Thank you for your interest, but we regret to inform you...." I'll continue the job search, but Apple was not encouraging at all! I'm still looking for corporate presidencies, apparently Steve Jobs hasn't resigned yet and they don't consider Hollister appropriate experience! Whatever! I even wore a black turtleneck when I submitted my application, in person, typed.

This could have been me


What is my point?

what is the definition of saga?

A Saga is traditionally an Icelandic or norse legend of adventure telling of a specific tale or family. In the more modern use it can refer to a long narration or prepetuous tale usually negative in connotation.
I guess then it would be appropriate to refer to my life as a saga, minus the emphasis on the negative, because while it is difficult I read today that "reality is like a fine wine. It doesn't appeal to children."
Is this true? Is reality to be savored only by those refined enough to drink slowly with a calm and enduring pallet? Who knows, but I do know some things starting with this:
I am a woman and a professional, and extremely capable of any full time management position that someone would have the sense to gve me (whew, there. I got it off of my back and out into the open, kind of like a declaration).
I HATE this job seeking process. Not because employers are rude, unfair, or they bruise my ego, but every time I put on my business suit, bring my purse/briefcase loaded with extra resumes, walk into an interview confidently and smiling and answer grilling questions with all the finess of one who has studied the craft of language, I hear one thing.
"You sound like you would be great for the position, but looking at your resume your experience doesn't align with your answers. Your longest job was for two years while you were in high school, and why did you apply to Hollister and then quit two weeks later?"
It is at this point that I realize A) I don't even want the stupid job, I just want a title that isn't peon, and I want a paycheck. B) I am going to have to defend the fact that I really really want this job and that despite my lack of resume support, they should hire me. Usually it registers in my mind tat I am convincing myself as much as them. They see right through it.
I begin, but how do I phrase this (politely):
"I understand that this is not typical of an interviewee and in fact I am possibly breaking every suggested interview 101 rule, but I am 21 years old. I was a high school senior 3 years ago right now working at the longest job that I have held. I had a 4.2 GPA and practically worked full time. I moved on to college to graduate in 2 years with my B.A. requiring that I take 18-25 units per semester/quarter and in the mean time I squeased in jobs to pay for my education, rent, and other expenses. During the summer of 2006 I had a school loan to pay back and 18 hours of summer school classes so flexibility in jobs was essential. I took the first thing that came, Hollister and quit because the company chooses employes that care more about themselves than the customer, but that shows nothing about my high regard for customer service and everything about my unreliability. Oh, and I had just turned 19. I have been married for a year and lived out of the country every time someone said to reach for the stars I took them literally. I have entirely too much drive, too much passion, and give 100% more than any normal person can understand, recognize, or make sense of. Perhaps this helps you understand the lack of support in my resume, but please don't ask me to give an example of teamwork in a work environment and snub your nose when I mention substitute teaching, or the grocery store because I was scrubbing fuzzy, goopy mold from floor drains in the freezer section voluntarily for something to keep me busy, and sitting with the kid that couldn't make sense of 15x5 until the light bulb went on while the actual teachers and store management sat comfortably awaiting pay day."

(suppose I wanted to send this just to see what would happen)
Dear landlord,
I would like to get a rabbit. They're quiet, gentle animals and make wonderful pets. I can promise that you will hardly even notice that they have been living here. I'm trying to decide on a breed. If you scroll down you will see that I have included pictures, perhaps you have a preference.
























These rabbits are seriously freaks of nature.

Today I walked into a grocery store to buy four things.
A produce dpeartment employee kept looking at me and laughing --one of those "I can't believe it" laughs.
When I arrived at the checkout with my celery, carrots, broccoli, and barley he was the checker. He laughed, " You know how to cook all by yourself?"
I was confused, "Yes."
"How old are you little girl?"
"21."
He looked stunned.

Last Monday I went to bed disheartened because I really really want to stop substitute teaching and either have a job or go to graduate school. On Tuesday I got called twice and was suddenly in the second stages of two job interviews and having to decide the direction of my life in the next few days. Why does this happen?
One job is at Biola, a christian college that I went to as a Freshman and the other is at Laguna Beach high school. For months since returning from China I've been trying to decided which direction my life is supposed to go and now I have only a few days to decide. I can either go to grad school and become a writing lab instructional aid with a very meager salary, no benefits, and high schoolers, or I can be the "Manager of Alumni Events and Volunteer Community" for Biola and save for grad school. I was struggling: full-time management position with benefits or further education and sharing my passion for writing with the most affluent students that I have ever encountered.
A very long story and process later I was delighted to receive the home phone numbers and personal emails of the hiring committee at Laguna Beach high school. I am to contact them (at my convenience) and let them know when I can work as a writing consultant for their honors and AP students. It was completely divine intervention because I can work with the students online, during a Saturday lab, night hours, etc. I get to choose when and through what medium I can work. I had such a passion for this job but the salary and benefits were a drawback. God worked those small details out and now I can happily go to my second interview at Biola on Wednesday and hope that working there full time is also a part of His plan.
Now --for the important feedback
I have been advised by some family members to buy a skirt suit set. I know that any print or online "interview attire for dummies" manual would agree with them. However, I do not think this is a good idea, but please read my reasons and let me know your opinion. I am always open minded.
The reason that I do not want to buy/wear a suit to my interview is mainly on the principal that I am not accurately represented in a suit. Noël is not fussy, stuffy, or in any way a business woman. I see myself as an individual and I prefer to reflect this from the outside just as much as from the inside. I am a female and suits were made for men. They are bulky, stiff, completely sensible, and lack imagination --not that men are this way, but it meets the needs of a man in a business environment. I prefer to be clean cut, classic, feminine, and elegant. The tailored Banana Republic dress shirt that combines a pure pale yellow and white stripe with grey wool slacks and heels is perfect. I believe that appearance is important and am not naive to the truth that a first encounter can never be re-created. However, the interview process is so much more than a first "encounter". I interview potential employers as much as they interview me and I prefer to engage in an investigation, conversation, and introduction. Authenticity is absolutely crucial and I could never put on an appearance that I did not believe in. A secondary matter is that a suit is an investment costing a minimum of $99.00. I hope that I will never need it and I don't buy things with the intention of wearing them once.
I could have silly, suborn notions and ideals that I need to let lie for the purpose of entering the "real world" but if clothes keep me from getting a job then I don't believe in God.

If I had Lucy's mind

Good Afternoon.
I am a little "high" if I can use that word non-offensively on mint m&m's (my jar is now only half full), edamame beans, and I Love Lucy...cleaning products too since I've been touching up on my housework.
My days off seem to be full of interesting combinations of food and activities. The reason is because I don't buy "heat up" food and if there aren't left overs I eat what I see for lunch and when I take a day off from teaching I glut myself on all of the things that I wish I could do when I'm at work. Let's see...I straightened my hair (not something I take the time to do at 5:30 every morning), I organized my whole little house again, watched I Love Lucy, looked at some patterns and made plans for sewing, watered my balcony garden, and opened all of my doors and windows to warm, freshen, and light the inside of my house.
As I worked I came to the conclusion that going to work is a lot more work than working at home. If I were confined to Lucy's era I would drive myself crazy and probably decide to have kids just to give me something to do. I find that I can keep my house very clean, organized, and un-cluttered with just about an hour a day and one really deep clean once a week. No wonder she and Ethel resorted to scheming to keep themselves busy. I wonder what most of you think. Would you prefer to be homemakers 24-7?
After watching the complete 9 seasons almost consecutively I realized that Lucy is classic because she thinks something and does it. Her actions and ideas are so often unchecked that when her house ends up full of chickens or she decides to steal John Wayne's footprints, somehow this isn't unexpected to a real fan of the show. I began wondering what it would take to be this way and what the consequences would be.
Today it would have meant wearing my 1920's dresses out in public and speaking with a British accent, I would have strewn all of Patrick's clean clothes about the house just to make him walk around looking for them. I probably would have dumped glitter in the flower beds since I was thinking it would make them look inhabited by fairies, and I would have expected Patrick to bring me home some flowers or throw a surprise party for me because he was a little late coming home from work. Now, would that make me a more interesting person or more rediculous? I think both. Maybe I'll work on a compromise and see what impulses I have tomorrow that I actually follow through with.

Can someone please be honest with me and tell me where they found him?

January

When I haven't posted for a while I feel anxiety toward my blog and I just feel like clearing everything. I get frustrated visiting blogs that I've seen over and over (I know bloglines would eliminate this happening, but I only check about four every few days.) When I am the one not updating I'm just reminded that I'm frustrating myself and that I don't really have anything to say so I avoid my page between posts. Does anyone else do this?
Anyway, I love January.
I was the kid that hated school. I spent about 1/8 of the start of every elementary school day in tears. January-May were the months that represent the non-crying school mornings. January meant that school was almost over --several school holidays, spring break, and then a bunch of year end activities and field trips.
January is like a clean slate, white, fresh, and a new beginning. I surprise myself that I don't take an interest in New Year's resolutions, but I guess every few days I make resolutions so when January comes it's just part of my "another day another resolution" philosophy.
November and December this year (well last year technically) were like a long hike up hill. So many things were in disarray and uncomfortable. I couldn't wait for January and by golly the past days have been wonderful. For the first Saturday Patrick and I weren't running out to capitalize on some pre or last minute holiday shopping or to take advantage of our new southern california neighborhood. Today we rode our bikes to the doughnut shop, made a grocery list, lingered over books this afternoon, went grocery shopping, made some chili, read books at Starbucks, and relaxed in the spa. Today we lived where we live instead of toured where we live.
Maybe it should just be January all year long.

Spreading sweet truth

If you like ice cream and free things you should sign up for the birthday club at Cold Stone and Baskin Robbins. They will send you coupons on your birthday for free ice cream. At Cold Stone you get a free medium size creation.
I just added Patrick to the birthday club because the nice thing is that he can never eat a whole one by himself :) I now get free ice cream twice a year.



P.S. Red Robbin sends you a coupon for a free hamburger

P.P.S You will need to give your email so they can send you the coupons but I can assure you that they don't send junk- only an email of coupons and specials about once a quarter.

"This wilderness area is characterized by certain inherent dangers. These dangers include mountain lions, rattlesnakes, poison oak, and rugged terrain."

Patrick and I decided to visit a local wilderness park today after church. Sure we'd read the reports. 3 deaths, a few injuries due to Mountain Lions...but certainly they weren't running rampant or the parks would close. Right?
As we drove up to the park, through the ranger station, and into the day parking area we saw multiple large yellow posters stating "You are entering a dangerous area." There were tactics listed for what to do in case you encountered a lion. Gulp. The last reported sighting was September 26, but as we began our ascent into the wilderness I began to wonder what they would classify as a "sighting." I didn't allow myself to ponder that question for too long because the trail became smaller, more vast, and more silent every foot we went.
I'm going to add a spoiler. We don't have a confrontation or even a sighting to report, but as we walked I gathered some pieces of scientific data to examine...I'm sure there were some lions in that great open space of wilderness.
Here are some droppings to look at. Anyone know what cougar droppings might look like? I think they are closer to the ones on the left. If we had lions expelling the size of dropping on the right I think we'd have horse-sized lions on our hands. Big problem!

A. B.

Next I have collected footprints. The fist I believe are from a horse. Well, of course they are, but since this is to be a complete analysis I am going to include them for consideration and observation.



At one point about 3 miles into the hike...the furthest point from anything, we saw the print below. I froze. The eerie silence and rustling dead sage brush made me tingle and freak out. For a couple of miles Patrick and I speculated on the footprint before deciding that the print would have come from an animal that had been de-clawed. Not likely in the wilderness, so we think it was the pattern on the bottom of a mountain biker's shoe.



Next we have a deer print.



Patrick stopped mid sentence. Dead still, dead silent, and grabbed my arm while staring straight ahead. My adrenaline shot up, but all he did was show me the print below. Finally we may have the cougar print. Do you think Cougar prints would be bigger though? What else has padded feet? A coyote?




It was quite the adventure. We sweat and panted, and surged with adrenaline. Look at the scenery that is the real Orange County- before all of the sprinkler systems and flower beds.






We visually depicted an upside down bell curve. Observe Patrick. Excited to begin, miserable-hot-and-sweaty, excited to almost be done. We accidentally hiked 5 miles in our church clothes.



Finally I would like to give attention to my trail climbing shoes. Because we came from church they were all that I had and they did an excellent job!

Christmas is full of traditions. Every year I have had the same stocking, the one my mom made when I was a baby. I have my own box of ornaments- a collection of 21. I am used to a real, scented pine tree, a warm fireplace, and the season is illuminated all around the house with my mom's special decorative touches.
This year I brought my box of ornaments home to my own undecorated, unseasonal, plain house. I waited a few weeks before realizing that tradition and seasonal touches don't just come, they are created. So...I bought a blow-up snow globe from Walmart that plays jingle bells and takes up my entire front balcony. No, I didn't. I bought mint M&M's first.
Patrick wanted us to practice an ancient Vincent tradition that has extremely specific guidelines, rules, and ordinances, a sacred recipe, and design. "Vincent Christmas Cookies." I realized that while I enjoy participating, I am not very good. I find it too tempting to want to make my cookies look good. The globbing and dousing with frosting and sprinkles is a much quicker approach so after an hour I had a meager failed batch while Patrick had an army of Vincent cookies to usher in the season.

This should show you the difference. His best cookie vs. my best cookie.



We also made stockings. What began as .99 store specials turned into original creations and a glitter fest.
Before:


After:


I think that's all we've done besides borrowing a tiny, fake tree from my parents. It's easy for me to give up my Christmas traditions this year because Southern California doesn't kindel the "spirit of Christmas" like foggy crip mornings with a light dusting of frost crystals or a light snow.
Maybe this year the essence of Christmas won't distract from the meaning.

Lucious escaped

I am absolutely certain that this occurs for less that 1% of students, teachers, and substitutes. Perhaps that means I'm lucky.
Lucious walked in, 3.5 ft is very small. In fact, I mistook him for being a lost 4-year-old. He had short curly hair characteristic of most little African American boys, long dark eyelashes, and pink lips pulled into a HUGE smile. I wondered why the teacher had warned me about him.
Lucious had two very close friends. Nico, and Eden. Nico sat a few seats away but had a matching behavior contract to Lucious. They considered themselves to be lucky...only they got to earn stickers throughout the day. Each hour and following every recess, they were rewarded tiny stickers for good and respectful attitudes and behavior. Eden however, sat right beside Lucious. She had purple tinted glasses with rhinestones that she insisted were for poor eyesight, a cheetah print headband also rhinestone studded that pushed back unruly brown hair and a giant, ribboned, hair scrunchie held the rest in place. She wore a baggy sweatshirt, long shorts, and Ugg boots. Her face was always innocent when questioned, but I know she and Lucious schemed.
The remainder of the students in class for the purpose of this story will just be lumped together although many vibrant personalities could be singled out. I will just say that the "class" had a hard time remembering that their teacher's absence did not make them the teachers. "We aren't s'uppost ta pull cards for that." "Evan is drawing a picture of me and the crossing it out." "Teacher, I can show you...you're doing it wrong." This annoys me more than anything.
As I jumped all around the room at math time responding to the ever elevating cry for "Mrs. Vincent," I repeatedly corrected "I don't get it," for "What don't you understand?" Throughout this time I noted that Lucious, one of the brighter kids in my class had finished and was socializing with the entire room one student at a time with more success than a campaigning presidential candidate. He was extracting signatures and as I was poked and tugged on, summonsed, and frustrated trying to explain math to uninterested students I didn't have time to figure out what was going on. I just repeatedly silenced the students with two fingers held high, and warned them that if they didn't keep to themselves everyone would be pulling a card (which is what happened).
Nico (Lucious' side-kick) had a horrible attitude about this and banged his chubby hand on the desk before throwing a wad of paper and grabbing a book from Teia, who started to cry. This began revolt number one. Lucious verbally objected and Nico followed, so did Eden. Then, the entire class of first graders began to whine. I didn't have any intention of yielding, their chirping voices made me threaten them with another card and most of them quieted. Lucious ran up to me and said, "I demand an explanation. I was being good. What was I doing wrong?! Am I still going to get a sticker for my behavior card?"
I hate impertenence. "No." I responded simply.
"But teacher..." he trailed off in a whine and big, little Nico growled at me.
No stickers for them, and it was finally the first recess of the day.
I made Lucious remain for a minute into recess because he had been eating in class after he was told not to and had scattered snack crackers everywhere. He let me know with a smile that I was mean. That was fine with me.

The events that occured next between recess and lunch I enjoyed, mostly because I laughed them off, but they become significant to later events.
Lucious needed to go to the bathroom as soon as they stepped in from recess. I told him no. When he insisted I let him go. (Going to the bathroom is a buddy system in Mrs. Ashley's classroom. Lucious wanted to take Nico.) I let them go. Eden walked up to me slowly.
"I have something very important to tell you Mrs.... Lucious just went to escape."
"What?"
"He was planning it this morning. Or he's going to look for a way to do it at lunch."
"Thanks Eden."
They returned just a short time later. Kids.
Silent reading was anything but silent with Lucious and Nico stirring up the class. I invited Lucious firmly to sit beside me in a "chair that had his name on it." (He actually looked for his name on, behind, and under the chair). As soon as he sat down he whined and then wanted to go get a different book. I ignored him. 2 minutes later he said, "Ummm, I think I'm feeling that I have to go to the bathroom."
I ignored this.
When I judged that he had spent sufficient time looking at the book I allowed him to get another one and gave him just 30 seconds. He dashed to get a new book and then I saw he was using the remainder of his time to talk with Nico.
"Lucious." He didn't respond.
"Lucious." He turned ever so slightly.
"Lucious!"
"Hang on a second! Gosh!" turning back and realizing what he had just said, he slinked over to me. He pulled a card.
Nico stood up. "I have to go to the bathroom."
"Sit down Nico, you just went."
"But I have to go really bad." He held himself and started to jump around
"Sit," I pointed to his seat.
"But I'm going to wet my pants."
"Ok."
"I'm wetting them now."
Comment ignored. He sat down.
30 seconds later he waddled up. "I just wet them." His pants were dry.
"You lost your chance to sit back down. Come sit by me."
He forgot about his "accicent"and sat down. Then wiggled more. "I'm going to wet them."
"I thought you just did that. You're going to wet again?!"
He got steaming mad and his chubby face turned pink. "Agh! Lucious she is so mean."
This is the extent of my "mean-ness" before lunch.
The class lined up to go out for lunch and we were halfway down a hall, around the corner, and just in front of the cafeteria when someone announced that Lucious didn't have his shoes on.
"Lucious." He smiled.
"Go put your shoes on." We all had to wait.

I thought I had quite the story to share with Patrick at lunch time...little did I know.

I returned to the playground at 12:25. Hunter ran up to me. "Lucious is escaped and I told him there were security cameras but he still left and I think he's lost and now he's going to be in trouble."
"Where is Lucious?" I asked the class. Everyone was silent. One person said the principal's office. I figured the incident was settled.
The classroom door opened a few minutes later which would be the first of three times. The last time it was the principal. She quieted the class.
"Who knows where Lucious might be?" Everyone raised their hands.
Eden produced a map that he had drown that was labeled "Escape plan."
One girl started to cry. "He wanted us all to go too and we signed the plan but we were all scared."
All of my students had petitioned to "escape" school with Lucious at lunch. I wasn't sure this was looking so good for me, especially in front of the principal.
The next hour was filled with tall tales. One girl drew small pictures which she claimed Lucious had given her to say where he was going. The entire class errupted saying that he was at the pumpkin patch, "No, he told me he was going to the Christmas tree farm." "No, Lucious is going to get some ice cream." It was impossible to keep the fervor and excitement and the name "Lucious" from every small mouth.
Finally the principal came in. "We found Lucious, but he has been expelled. He was hiding across the street in an apartment complex underneath a car. He kept running to new hiding places as we tried to locate him. The police, several school employees, and people at the complex were looking for him." Many questions followed, a lot of tears for the kids who had agreed to escape with him. One boy burst into tears, "Am I going to be expelled too?"
School was over shortly after.
I guess I learned that if a 7 year old draws an escape map complete with dots and a big X, it may be worth inspecting.

Oh my, this is not what I had expected.

A friend, well, a girl that I met in China through a YWAM mission group entered this photo from China into a contest. She discovered recently that she is a finalist, and posted the photo on facebook. I clicked over for my viewing and something ran through me, a shudder, an emotion I guess- that left me feeling almost homesick, longing partially to stand right there again, to witness that very scene which in my mind doesn't seem very odd or strange at all, just Chinese, just happy.

I basically left China thinking "Good riddance!" to all of the trauma, pain, loneliness, and empty times that I experienced, but I never suspected that in time the good would far outweigh the bad and I would be lonely for my life there: Meals with Craig, Marianne, Inez, Becky, and Kathleen on our building roof, my bunny and the always pooping Chinchillas, the over-crowded 208 bus to the grocery store about 45 minutes away, and living side by side with my husband almost 24/7. It was such a special time and I know that it changed me for the better in more ways than I can count.

It makes me wonder if I will ever get to go back? My house has a bit more insulation now, matching paint/tile, furniture, homey touches, no cracks or dust dragons looming. I have a clean, new-ish car, my family is within a two hour drive or a cell phone call away. I understand everyone and just drive two miles for a capable doctor, pharmacist, or hospital. Yet, I don't think my new life indispensable, hopefully it is just a means to a simpler end. Maybe I will get to go back.
I would never have thought that this post would come.

When I got married I knew one thing was going to have to change…my cuisine. I have always been a healthy eater and I eat enough to sustain me, but I guess you could say that I am far from conventional meat, starch, vegetable, and bread- 3 square meals a day eater. I knew that Patrick would not live on my staple (which last year happened to be turkey sandwiches with mustard on wheat bread and homemade bean burritos).
In China it was easy because I couldn’t really make anything that I liked quickly so I mostly just ate ice cream and white rice.
Now that I am living with the resources to make meals again I find meal planning to be difficult. I eat when I am hungry and find something at that time that is nutritious and appeals to my stomach. It does not make sense to me to make something when I don’t even feel like eating and then get tired of the smell and appearance before I ever get around to eating it. It is truly a task. That is why I love lunchtime. At lunch I can revert to my preferred way of eating and spend little to no time deliberating over my meal. Today I made Cream of Wheat and green peas. No, not together! Side by side, a green vegetable and a nutritious breakfast cereal. Mmmm. What are your strangely normal eating preferences?

I live in a place that inspires me. Let me tell you about it...

I didn't see anyone for two hours until I heard footprints muffled by the sand. I glanced up from the sun warmed pages of my book to see a surfer hop the low brick wall and jog toward the sand, wet suit half-way zipped, surf board under his arm. One by one they came in this fashion and then they would get to the water's edge, plant their boards in the sand and sit in observation for almost 10 minutes. They ALL did this. I wondered if they were praying, righting their aura with nature, observing the wave patterns, or perhaps mentally preparing for the cold water.
I spent my afternoon yesterday warming in the sun and sifting sand grains between my toes. It was the most beautiful beach day that I can remember in a while. Sometimes it's windy, damp, cloudy, too hot, but yesterday was warm and the water sparkled a clear sea foam green. The waves crashed rhythmically and I was able to absorb 100 pages of a book while I waited for Patrick to finish work for the day.
I would not mention this on my blog except that the experience meant something very special to me. In a way it was a confirmation of some ideals I have been forming and praying about. I am a moment person. I would not be content to live for the gestalt (fancy word for the big picture of life) if the moments did not mean something.
How much would I be willing to sacrifice materially, monetarily, relationally to have breathtaking moments?
This goes beyond choosing a job, a career, a church, or a location to live. I am referring to a lifestyle in which I choose to uphold things that are special, that God has created me uniquely to savor and treasure. He fills our our lives with so many glimpses of Him and His glory, goodness and blessing that are not in the bible, church, or Christian fellowship. Why in the world don't we seek those out more often? For those of you thinking "well of course it's easy to enjoy moments when you have endless amounts of time to seek them out. Who wouldn't be happy and consider themselves blessed with an afternoon like yours." My response is, "you proved my point."
I had one day in a month filled with very sad, long, tiring days that I chose to put the job search on hold, put off organizing the bill drawer, to not allow the nagging, "what will I cook for dinner question" to get to me...Instead of upholding a "good work ethic" that Puritan Christians in the 1500's incorporated into our religion, I had fun. Good riddance responsibility and expectation that I place on myself. God is waiting with a life full of blessings that only come when we chose to savor the moments instead of working to an overall point of "someday, eventually, finally, and then..."
I want to share my sunset with you.







Also, for goodness sake, please go to Target and buy some minty M&M's. They are the most wonderful food in all of the world. As you can see, I have enough to last me all winter. Mmmm M&M's.

The Unemployed

I just called Crate and Barrel to cancel my interview. They were going to employ and train me to be a manager starting in January after the busy Christmas season.

My dream is to be a book editor. Almost everybody knows that about me. Well, I called a publishing company a few weeks ago only to be told, very tactfully, that I do not have the qualifications or experience to even be considered for a position. I was sad, okay, shattered to know that I have to wait until I can go to a school that offers an M.A. in publishing. That left me with no other dreams or career aspirations for the next 5 years. I started to apply for retail positions and also at UC Irvine in various departments.

I think I was in Gap, or maybe it was Pottery Barn last week when I just had the urge to walk up to some people and start taking things from their hands to place back on the shelf. I couldn't really see how working retail would fit in with my ideals at all. I think I would feel guilty and weighted every day getting up to fatten the masses with material goods. No, no, no. That would not do!

On top of that I realized something else. I went to school to get a degree. I worked hard for 2.5 years for that degree, and it has made me eligible to do something in this world that I care about. I will not just settle. I don't think it was by chance that I was trained to think and communicate and write and not use it to fulfill God's purpose for me.

So, I just called Crate and Barrel. The manager seemed to know me from my application and was disappointed that I am no longer interested. Why is it so easy to be macho and filled with faith until you actually have to do something about it. I feel now like I'm quivering a little, afraid that I might have just made a mistake.

It makes me think of all the boldness in the bible. People were not wimpy, they were strong, faith filled, courageous, and confident.

I'm going to substitute teach and believe that God has plans for me. Until they are revealed I will be living as if today is part of that plan.

Thanks Giving

As Patrick and I were moving inches at a time toward our Thanksgiving destination I decided to stop and think about what we were doing. Patrick asked what I was thinking about and I decided to be honest and sent my ponderings his way:

How in the world did we get HERE along with so many other motorists wanting to leave Los Angeles? ALL of these people are going through this just to eat special (mostly home cooked) food?! Where did tradition come from? Why do we all listen to and abide by an unspoken prompting? Why couldn't we decide to all get together and eat a meal another weekend when traffic in the grocery stores and on the freeways isn't so bad?

I put my favorite soft pink blanket over my head and just sighed. We decided not to answer those questions at the moment, and we might possibly never answer them. They may be questions for a pessimist, or maybe they're just the questions of a curious person (I prefer that one).

As you can see, it was a rather curious start to a busy weekend.

The day of Thanksgiving was usual. I had my dinner of rolls and mashed potatoes. Some people say that eating only those two things on Thanksgiving is ridiculous. I say, you get to eat your favorite meal, I get to eat mine, thank you. It was nice to visit my extended family.

I took my 10 year old cousin to see Enchanted. It presented a challenge that there isn't necessarily a division between fairytale and reality that we don't choose to place there ourselves. Also, please wear your dancing shoes to the movie because you will want to sing and dance as you exit, and that is completely not a joke! Gabriella and I looked at each other and wished we had more guts to waltz out to the car, but we sheepishly told stories of friends we could think of who would actually do it.

I love Patrick, and I love my mom, and I just love my dad and my brothers (Juliet too, but she wasn't there). I have felt so sad lately, like I didn't have anything good to say, but on the way home last night Patrick and I just talked constantly of all of the wonderful characteristics about my family dynamic, all of the things we liked, enjoyed, and thought were fun. Honestly, if you wonder what is coming out of you, look what you're putting in. People say that a lot in reference to media and the bible, but I mean in terms of the things that you know bring you life. For example, I love people that I am close to and I've been alone almost all day for the past two weeks. Of course I was lonely and sad.

Today is Thursday. I have always loved and hated Thursdays. In school Thursday was the day that I had all of my boring classes...I'm not sure how it happened that way every year, but my odd period classes were always the worst (until my senior year because I had and unscheduled 1st period and didn't have to go to school until 10:30). But...Thursday is also the day before Friday and Fridays are amazing! I guess Thursday is the other side of the hump.

This week has been so boring; I've done NOTHING! Well, I organized our entire apartment including closets and cabinets, cleaned just about every surface, seen 2 loads of laundry through the washing, drying, and folding cycles (I wish), watered my flowers, and looked online for jobs. I just feel though like I haven't done anything to improve or contribute to the greater good of humanity. Do you ever feel like that?

I wanted to teach myself to knit yesterday, not for any particular reason other than to keep my hands busy...but I realized when I was looking online at "how-to's" I just wasn't interested in the beginner patterns which included a basic, single-colored scarf, or a head band. My eyes kept straying to the array of things advanced knitters could make, and although I'll have to start somewhere I decided not to try at all.

Do you know why I haven't been writing lately (to answer some of your questions)? My life has been rather sad, turned upside down, and frustrating (I was supposed to leave today for Texas to spend three weeks there. Now I can't go see Megan and Derek, Nick and Sarah, Carla, Ann, Tyler, or anyone until- I don't know when!!!!-end of tantrum). I am so grateful for all of God's provision to bring Patrick and I here, and I also know that Patrick did it for my sake initially, so I'm grateful, but I feel kind of mellow. Blah.

I realize that it doesn't reflect God's presence or neglect, it's just life. Period. I wonder how much of a real connection there is between the things that happen or don't, in our lives, and what we attribute to a lull in our spiritual pursuits. While I know that God is a source of joy and peace and comfort, I think sometimes we just need to take a walk to Starbucks on a fall day to splurge on a peppermint mocha because they come with red sprinkles in top, which, will inevitably lift your spirits.

I am glad it's "over-the-hump" day, and that I'm about to go eat lunch and spend my afternoon reading.

My new home