Grounded

Moments ago I was soaring above snow-covered piney mountains, and now I'm enjoying a Caribu Coffee latte at the Denver airport. Traveling bliss...here are some thoughts from the (road).

1. I saw Rachel Zoe at LAX. LOVE her. Did NOT love that the paparazzi has its own roped off area in the screening checkpoint from which to stalk paying customers. I'm sorry, I can't bring liquids on the plane or wear my shoes through the xray but they get a stalking platform? NOT cool, LAX.

2. I know, I am a hater, but what if there was a no kids rule in first class? Screaming toddlers that are old enough to be hushed are not what I had in mind when paying extra for my ticket (theoretically "paid" of course haha). What about all the classy parents that need to bring the little snotters with them? I propose a Nanny class, preferably sound proof. :)

3. I saw Nine last night...I did not like it very much. I mean it's slick, and I liked the Fergie numbers with sand and tambourines, but honestly if I wanted to go to a burlesque show with crappy songs I would just drive down to "boobs and booze alley" in Irving, TX...and I don't.

4. Movies I am DYING to see: Avatar (maybe not 7 times like I saw Titanic, but we'll see), The Young Victoria, Sherlock Holmes, Fantastic Mr. Fox and honestly I do want to see It's Complicated...I mean Meryl is in it!

5. Can't WAIT to be in Dallas with my family and see my Z's again.

6. I'm off to board, Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

Meryl

Check out the beautiful article and pictures of Meryl Streep in the Jan 2010 Vanity Fair (www.vanityfair.com)

"There's that quote from Mike Nichols--he said, 'She looks like she swallowed a lightbulb.' There's something that' completely transparent about her, a glowing quality that's quite striking and delicate...There's a sense of great joy and being in the moment. She's someone who is not afraid of anything, and she is not afraid of being ridiculous."

--Quotes from Brigitte Lacombe in Leslie Bennetts' article in the Jan 2010 Vanity Fair

Tolerance

This week I've been musing upon the word "Tolerance"--or really, INtolerance. I think that our culture has sadly misunderstood, and therefore repeatedly misused this word to the point that the very subtext of the word itself has changed. I'm not going to quote Webster's dictionary to you, in fact I'm not even going to look up the definition. Like most (all) of my posts, this is coming straight from the wilds of my own thoughts.

The very act of tolerating somethings basically means putting up with something. Not necessarily loving it. Not even embracing it. More like accepting something, but at arms length. Therefore the word intolerance SHOULD mean, NOT accepting something, even at the safe distance of an arm's length. What bothers me is that today--especially in the context of the news relating to politics, religion, and other heated topices--tolerance/intolerance have been morphed into thinking something is right or wrong. If I believe I am right and you are wrong, I am intolerant. If I like someone and you don't, you are intolerant. What is going on here? If you are a person of strong convictions, or really if you have ANY convictions (and we all do--even if your conviction is complete "openness", that too is a conviction, tricky ain't it?) than you think you are right about some things. Unless you live in a perpetual state of uncertainty, that means that at some point you think someone who disagrees with you is wrong. And (dare I say it?) that is ok. I fear for any child who is raised to think it is never ok to be in disagreement with another human. And this is where tolerance comes into play. When you think you are right, and someone else is wrong, that is when you learn to TOLERATE it. Sure, you might talk about it, try to change their mind, but it might not work. If this person is in your life to stay, at some point you will need to get past it. Hopefully love each other anyway. Agree to disagree. It doesn't mean letting go of your convictions, it means loving THROUGH them. And if that is the real meaning of tolerance, than the real meaning of INtolerance is a person who not only thinks they are right and you are wrong, but refuses to accept it and therefore you. Refuses to get through it or around it. Refuses to love you while disagreeing with you. And when that happens, it hurts. It feels like rejection, like stubborness, like fear. Thank God for grace and forgiveness in the face of things like this. I can't offer a band-aid to something as broad as intolerance, but I can use the word correctly and I hope you can too. (or you can tell me why I'm wrong about this and we can love each other in spite of it and the cycle will continue)

***I absolutely belive in right and wrong and am not suggesting we blow daisies and unicorns at things in the name of tolerance. I am talking about when someone you love/know/just met once at the grocery store doesn't share your beliefs. Or what to do when someone tells you that in order TO accept them, you have to agree with them. Dangerous ground...

Joe

Last night I went out with some friends to enjoy the general merriment of a Saturday evening, and to lick our wounds from the various football loses we suffered throughout the day (SO close Nebraska...as for my own dear Trojans, I have seen some better days although it was super fun to have field passes for the first time!) Needless to say, we managed to have a great time and were on our way home at a respectable hour when we came across a guy I'll call "Joe". Joe was walking down the sidewalk around the corner from the bar we had just left, and when I say walking I am using the term loosely. Suffice it to say he had had a LOT to drink and was swaying alarmingly. We watched as he barely made it a few steps. My heart went out to him--he was younger than I was, dressed nicely (and we were in a nice neighborhood outside of a rather upscale bar) and all alone. I wanted to help him (and make sure he didn't get behind the wheel), but of course being a girl, late at night, etc etc didn't know exactly what to do. Thankfully I was with three dapper gents (lucky me, I know!) who all simultaneously decided they would step in and help. Long story short, as we sat with Joe for about 15 minutes before we found his friends to take him home, he told us (between heart-wrenching, drunken sobs) a really sad and probably true story from his recent past that left him certain at age 22 that "no one cared about him, or would ever love him" and that he would always be "the second choice" left on the outside looking in, all alone and without love. Friends, my heart broke for him. It still does. As people walked past us, some simply looking through us, others laughing and making judgemental comments, all I could think about was who hasn't been here before? Maybe not drunk on the sidewalk, or in his exact situation, but don't we all at some point or another question whether or not we are alone, or will ever be truly loved and accepted? I know that by the age of 22 I had already dealt harshly with these questions, and thankfully emerged on the side of hope, and even certainty that I was not only loved, but created by love, and saved by love. As I go about my day today, I will think of Joe and pray that he find the answers and hope he is in search of.

Grazing

Today, I want to be a sheep.

I am all about goals. Thanks to my parents, I've grown to love lists and goals and having a "next" dream for my life. But sometimes all my dreaming gets in the way of living, and more importantly it gets in the way of listening. There are so many voices in my life, some amazing and uplifting and others debilitating and deceptive. More often than not the world's voice is shouting one thing in my ear while the wise words of loved ones are in the other, and then my own desires and fears are shouting at me from inside my head. Sadly I often believe whoever is loudest and ignore the one voice that I really want to hear--the Lord's. I am in the midst of an exciting season of growth and change in my life. I feel like God is preparing me for a new venture or at least moving me forward in a few ares that have been rather stagnant for awhile. And while I'm pumped for the adventure, I also know myself all too well. Starting out on a journey is fun and exhilarating, but not too far down the line fear, confusion, and obstinacy sets in. I drag my feet, I get confused about where I'm supposed to be, I start to wonder if I ever should have set out at all. But you know what? I don't need to worry. I have seen and lived and experienced God's provision, grace, and unfailing love. I know that he will lead me, and all I need to do is let him. So today I am a sheep and he is the Shepard. I love control, but I've also seen what a mess I make when I have it, so today I am content to be a simple happy sheep.

Psalm 23
The Lord is my Shepard, I shall not be in want
He makes me lie down in green pastures
He leads me beside quiet waters
He restores my soul
He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I will fear no evil
For you are with me
Your rod and your staff they comfort me
You prepare a table before me
In the presence of my enemies
You anoint my head with oil
My cup overflows
Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever

This is Gross

Oh bloggy world, how I have missed you! September went by in a whirlwind--I can't believe I didn't do any posts--but I'm back, and starting things off with a somewhat questionable post. I went on a walk a few weeks ago, and walked past a little sign that said in all caps: THIS IS GROSS. Obviously, I took notice. The sign was carefully placed (on a wooden pick) in a pile of dog poop. Lovely! Underneath it said--Pick up your poop. The sign made me laugh, gag, and think all at once (some might say I looked like a choking duck...). One a purely logical scale, I think the homeowners had every right to put up their little sign--it IS gross not to pick up after your dogs (honestly, how do they cope with the shame? don't they wonder if the people can see them through the windows??? I mean...(Rachel Zoe reference #1)) It was funny to me, though, that instead of just putting up a pick up after your dogs sign, they chose to leave the mess in their yard, and call attention to it with a sign. Somehow I doubt that the kind of person who would leave it there in the first place would be significantly shamed by the sign into becoming a person of character and considerate nature. Which brings about my deeper thought: Wouldn't it be nice if we could put up little "signs" like that in our lives. Like a big THIS IS GROSS in the middle of a friend's passive aggression or a in the face of some random guy-in-car cat call (seriously, what do they think is going to come of that? Bananas! (RZ #2)). That way, you don't have to pick up other people's messes and you are essentially calling them on their, well, poop! But in the end, as with the errant dog walker, if they are OK with leaving their ish on the sidewalk, is there any point to making a little sign, or should we just suck it up and pick it up? Ahhh, life's little quandaries!

Star Sighting

This weekend I went camping in Big Sur with some dear friends. I was really looking forward to seeing all the stars up there in the clear, non-city-lighted sky. The last time I was up there it was really clear and so majestic. Needless to say, this time the sky was overcast and not a star was in sight. Obviously I still had a great time, but I went to bed a little sad that I had missed out on the rare opportunity to see what I consider to be one of the most magical sights in nature. I'm thankful that my knowledge of exactly what those twinkly little lights are hasn't lessened the impact of just how glorious the night sky is! It makes me think of the conversation that Timon and Pumba have in the Lion King--are they fireflies stuck in the big black thing, or large balls of gas and fire millions of miles away? I find that the answer doesn't really matter to me. Just like staring at the endless ocean stretched in front of me, seeing the star-filled sky inspires me to think of what is beyond, what is out there, and what is possible. It reminds me of the knowledge that God "determines the number of stars, and calls them each by name" (Psalm 147:3) It takes me out of my tiny little world, and reminds me of the vastness of space--which simultaneously delights and terrifies me!

That night, I woke up and couldn't sleep. I was restless and longing for some fresh air, so after about 40 minutes of debating I ventured out of my safe little tent into the middle of the night, despite all the little rustlings I could hear outside and the knowledge that the skunk who had run towards our fire only a few hours earlier was still out there, desperate for vengeance from the evil flashlight wielding humans. On my way back from the bathrooms (don't worry, it still counts as camping!) I happened to look up. I didn't have on my contacts, but I could still see the BILLIONS of stars, shining overhead. It was like a little gift. I stood outside my tent for a few minutes, enjoying the solitude of being alone in the dark, the only witness to the brief moment of a clear middle of the night sky.

The next morning it was completely cloudy again, as if it had never happened. And I couldn't help but think that if I hadn't forced myself out of my safe, cozy tent into the "dangerous" night, I would have missed out on all those stars...

A few days ago my mom sent me this picture while she and my dad were sailing to Catalina. It's a picture of the dinghy that is mounted to the back of the boat. Can you see the teeny tiny little bird sitting on top?

I found this image really poignant. My mom titled the email "hitchhiker"--one tiny bird, in the middle of a vast ocean, finding a brief respite on whatever "island" she could find. Lover of metaphors as always, I couldn't help but feel like this bird is a kindred spirit. All too often I find myself out in the middle of an seemingly endless ocean with no land in sight. I start to despair, feeling the aching in my wings as I try to stay in flight. And then, out of the clouds I see a sailboat. Not what I expected, but a welcome landing place all the same. And honestly, oftentimes what I think to be a random landing place turns out to be better than what I would have planned. Would I rather sit in a tree, or on a 50ft sailboat, riding the waves and watching the dolphins chase the wake? Much like this bird, I am sitting pretty on an amazing ride. Not where I expected to be, or where I seemingly might belong, but I am resting and I am thankful.

Life Lessons from a Purse

My mom bought me an amazing surprise purse present (sounds like a weird my little pony name...) and on the inside it had this chic little paper booklet of information about the brand, the purse, etc. Part of what they wrote is the following, and I loved it because:

1. It is a genius way of saying "hey that expensive purse you just bought? when it starts to look beat up, don't worry, that just means you are even cooler than you were before"--very smart

and

2. You know how much I love a good metaphor--I think it is self explanatory how my new little purse reflects my life. Enjoy!

"The foil, originally glossy, becomes increasingly opaque with wear and time, providing the object with an appearance which is beautiful and unique. It may be said that leathers treated in this way offer low resistance to scuffs, scratches and repeated rubbing, losing their shine especially on the corners and parts subjected to wear. However these characteristics should be considered as the assets, rather than the defects of craft products. Appreciating the product in this light and experiencing its natural evolution makes for a product which is unique, authentic and personal."

Oh Babs, you teach me about life even when you aren't trying to...

There is a fine line

There is a fine line between

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder"

and

"Out of sight, out of mind"

and I think that difference is reciprocation of affection...

This week's musings...

This week I have been feeling extremely grateful for my 26.5 years. I'm in that really comfortable, exciting place in life where I am still young and have so much to hope for and dream about, but I've also passed by some years of awkwardness and insecurity that I don't miss at all! I think the mid-twenties bring a new feeling of peace and comfort in your own skin that early twenties in all it's glorious uncertainty and arrogance just can't compete with. Sure, I'm not just out of college, but I look better, feel better, and react more sanely to things at 26 than I did at 22. Ironically I haven't really answered any of those big life questions I was asking myself when I graduated college, but I've lived A LOT of life and learned even more about relationships and myself than I did in the self-indulgent years of college (not self-indulgent in a bad way, college is a great time to focus on figuring out who you are and what you are about). I think our current culture puts SO much emphasis on getting it together right when you leave college--what is your career, where are you going to live for the next 10 years, how much money will you have--and I know very few people who are still on the same path they were on at graduation day. Just like people tend to change their major a couple times in college as they settle in and the voice of their high school guidance counselor fades into the distance, so do the first few years of college bring a lot of changes and surprises to what you thought adult life was going to be about. I for one do not miss being 22 or 23, and I think that these next few years might just end up being the best I've had yet. Thank you Lord for growth, perspective, and the mercy of change!

What do you think?

I'm back! I had an amazing vacation in Cabo. I usually am really depressed at the end of vacations, but this time I was perfectly content to head back to "normal life" which is an indication of how content I am with my life right now. What a relief to be able to thoroughly enjoy a vacation without the sadness at the end! Although you know I love a good cry, especially if paired with a really depressing and poignant song on repeat.

***The following is in NO way some sort of passive aggressive shout out to anyone in my life. If I want to be passive aggressive I'll just say something really snotty in my facebook status :)

Ohhhh now you're all really interested, aren't you?

I've been thinking about opinions a lot this week. I have a lot of them, as we all know. And I love hearing other people's--in fact, I seek them out. Whenever I have a big decision in my life, or am conflicted about something, or even just because I love talking about myself and my life (sarcastically stated, startlingly true...) I am the first to ask my friends what they think. I am a verbal processor, and I often end up figuring out how I really feel about something after having a good chat about it with someone. The problem is, the more people you ask about something, the more conflicting opinions you are bound to hear. Unless it's a really black and white issue, it can often be more confusing then helpful to hear all the various opinions. And unless you are my mom (who is basically always right), you may in fact have an opinion that doesn't necessarily end up being best for me. All of this to say, that lately I have been sort of overwhelmed by all the different voices in my life. And that's when I realized that I was seeking out all this advice/commentary, but failing to ask the one person whose "opinion" I really need to hear--God's. This is not to say that I don't ENDLESSLY value my friends' advice. Like I said, I am the one who asks for it. And my friends happen to be extremely insightful and helpful (and pretty!). But sometimes I am so focused on asking everyone around me what to do that I forget to include God in the conversation. And it's only when I look to him that all the other voices fall in to their place--helpful, thought-provoking, and appreciated, but ultimately second place.

Going up?

Stepping onto an elevator is exciting, because you never know what kind of experience you might have. Aside from the possibility that you will 1. never again see the light of day because you are stuck inside a 4x4 deathcube or 2. never again see the light of day because you've plummeted to your death...you are probably going to have one of the following 3 experiences.

Situation One: Can you see me?

Involves you, alone on the elevator which may or may not have a mirrored ceiling, checking yourself out and possibly singing softly all the while wondering if there are hidden cameras watching you,

Situation Two: Faith in Humanity--Restored!

Sometimes elevator "drivebys" can be really uplifting. You know what I'm talking about. For the brief, 34 seconds that it takes you to go up to the mail room, you share a witty and charming conversation with a total stranger that ends with one of you wishing the other a good day as you giddily prance from the elevator. I love when that happens. Against all the odds, two strangers in a deathcube (in this case lifecube? Maybe not unless you're in an elevator with Jesus? But Jesus is everywhere, Lexi...ahhhhhhhhh you got me) manage to have an non-awkward and breezy social interaction in less than one minute while standing very close to one another without an agreed upon place to rest your eyes

which leads me to Situation Three: Awkwards Unite!

Unfortunately this is what usually seems to happen. Despite my 3 years of cotillion (thank you Atlanta Country Club for teaching me to wear gloves and wait for HIM to bring ME the punch) and gracious upbringing from Babs, I manage to lose all semblance of social niceties and stand awkwardly, counting each of my louder than an airplane runway breaths and seconds as they tick by until the door slowly creaks open and I try not to LEAP out of the Awkward Cube.

***There is an elusive, unicorn of a situation which I have indeed experienced, albeit only once.

Situation 4: Thank you God for this day of glory

In which case you find yourself on an elevator with Matt Leinart at the height of his attractiveness and football all-starness, in which all the lights go out and you ride in the dark for 4 floors, illuminated only by the blue glow of Matt's phone. I mean, I'm not that huge of a fan, but come on...that's just awesome

iWantone

I have had 3 iPods, none of which were purchased by me. Actually the people who gave them to me didn't even pay for them. Number one was given to me via my Dad via his company and I was oh so cool--the first person I knew to have one back in 2004...Number two was left in an Oakwood apartment that I was inspecting at my old job by the MTV employee who was living there. When I called her to tell her I had found it, she told me to keep it as MTV had upgraded her to a newer one. Since old 2004 was about to die, I gladly accepted. A few years later and my big, old bodied iPod numbers 1 and 2 are on the brink of death. Fortunately, my mom won an iPod shuffle at the grocery store...I know, we are a blessed family. I think she was the 100th customer or something. Anyways, the point of all that is that perhaps due to my past iPod experiences, or perhaps simply because I have entitlement issues, I feel like it is unfair that no one has yet handed me a free iPhone. I don't know why exactly I feel like I NEED one, as literally all my friends that I hang out with often have one, so it's not like I can claim I will get lost or not be able to look up a movie time. I have my own computer, as well as a work computer that I can bring home with me. But none of the that is the point. I WANT ONE and I want it now. I have 4 very close friends whose husbands/boyfriends gave them one, so maybe I'll add that to my list of entitled hopes: boyfriend approaches, riding on a narwhal on the tumultuous seas, holding out an iPhone towards me as I wait on the shore, my long black locks waving in the winds of change...

The then and now

Yesterday I was thinking about all the fun games I used to play as a child, and discovered that ironically I am still playing most of them today. The only difference is, now it doesn't feel a lot like playing. For instance:

THEN: My sister and I used to close all the doors in our little upstairs hallway, cover the floor with pillows, turn out the lights and then proceed to run around and continuously fall over with all our friends. It was a chaotic, squealing, laughing good time which usually resulted in running into a wall and/or each other. NOW: I run around having no clue what job to take, who to date, where to live or what I'm doing half the time--often falling down and ALWAYS running into walls.

THEN: My mom (bless her) used to let me make "recipes" in the kitchen which always, without fail, resulted in a creation of brown disgusting soup/goo into which I would then pour copious amounts of sugar and add sprinkles on top. My mom would then taste it with me, always encouraging me to keep up my "efforts" in cooking. NOW: I still love to cook, but now it's more about is this healthy, when will I have time to make something before work, and why are groceries SO expensive?

THEN: I would spend hours playing outside with my friends. The dogwood tree was a boat/fort/castle/time machine and the swing set was a huge catapult with a slide that led to a pool of lava. NOW: I feel guilty if I don't work out 5 days a week, I complain about sore muscles and keep waiting to wake up looking like Cameron Diaz in Charlie's Angels II...still waiting...

You get the idea. It's not that I'm not a joyful person, in fact I am an idealist and an optimist who can normally have fun doing almost anything. It's just that, compared to all those things when I was a kid, the day to day activities seem to have lost a lot of their carefree joy. Instead of playing, I work out. Instead of inventing, I cook dinner. Instead of embracing the uncertainty of running around a tiny room with pillows covering the floor, I fear the unknown and take tiny baby steps towards my dreams. I was trying t0 pinpoint what the difference is between the THEN and the NOW. Although I had about as near to a perfect childhood as one could ask for, it still was far from perfect. I had fears then (of course most of them involved wondering if my guinea pig Laura would live forever as I hoped she would) and I have fears now. I had problems then as I do now (mainly my sister locking me out of her awesome room of wonders and sticker books). But back then, despite my child-size trials and tribulations, at the end of the day I knew my mom and dad would take care of me. In my mini-Lexi mind I knew that they could solve anything. My dad (the fix-it-up-Chappie) and my mom (the Queen of our household, reigning in love and mom-wisdom) always knew what to do. But here's the thing: I may be a grown up now, and my mom and dad (who will of course always be hugely a part of my life) aren't running the show. But. God. Is.

And that is what can make all the difference. It frees me up to play and dream and create. Yes I have bills and go through suffering and doubts which is a part of being an adult. But I don't have to lose that child-like faith that at the end of the day, I know God is in control and will take care of me.

And just think of all the time that will free up to run around outside playing with dragons...

500 Reasons why I loved 500 Days of Summer

Ok, I'm not going to list all 500. But I could! (NOTE: I don't think this post gives away anything about the movie you wouldn't know from seeing the trailer)

1. My love for Zooey Deschanal borders on stalkernesss. Except that I don't stalk her. But I do love love love her and sort of (completely) want to be her. I'm sure you all feel the same.

2. There is a psuedo musical number mid-movie (which I won't explain more of in hopes that you will all go and see it) but needless to say, that sort of thing happens in my life (mind) all the time, complete with animated birds (unicorns). Love it!

3. The movie is set in LA but I thought it was NYC for the first 2/3 of the movie. AND I've lived here for 8 years. So basically they succeeded in making LA into a magical new city that I can't wait to go and take part in (hopefully this new expedition into LA life will include my own personal Joseph Gordon-Levitt?)

4. I love movies that are told out of order--especially since this movie is about a relationship and that is so often how we remember things

5. The movie completely validates my previous post on love/love lost--Utter romantic character falls in love and when it doesn't work out questions everything he believed about soul mates/destiny/love. Ain't love grand? GO SEE IT!

I love it/I hate it

Here's a fun game: what is one thing you love and one thing you hate today? Here is my example, I hope you will all post your own.

LOVE IT: Hardware stores. What's that, you say? It's true! Today I went to three hardware stores in search of some illusive air filters and something about the chaotic but systematic organization combined with the smell of who knows what (wood? tools? metal?) just makes me feel like I'm in a happy small town and I'm about to walk outside to get my Bernese Mountain Dog who is waiting patiently by the parking meter and take her to get an ice cream cone. Or something like that. I think my love for small, non-chain (well actually they are all owned by ACE--who you can now follow on Twitter according to their website...what the heck do they post? Hammers have now dropped in price from 9.99 to 7.89, come on down--@drillbitwoodshavings) Don't get me wrong, I love a good trip to Home Depot when you need something obvious, but these smaller hardware stores are really where it's at. They remind me of going to the hardware store with my Mom on the main street in the town where I spent the first 7 years of my life and feeling like all was right in the world because the nice man behind the counter gave me a lollipop while mom picked out an outdoor light bulb. Today, for instance, at Busy Bee Hardware in Santa Monica, the 100 year old man behind the counter let me go in the employees only section with him to locate the air filters and then climbed up a ladder and dropped them down to me. Where else can you find 100 year old employees climbing ladders so gracefully, so cheerfully? He even gave me a discount--I think I may be the only female who ever comes into the store. Either way, I think local hardware stores may be the key to feeling that home-town feeling in a city as big as LA.

HATE IT: Fox's up and coming show More to Love. (for those of you who Tivo past all commercials, it is essentially The Bachelor with all the women contestants being on the heavier side) OK people, here comes a rant. FIRST of all, since when is it OK to define "real women" as either size 2 or size 14? Last time I checked I was a real woman (or at least that's what Shania told me) and I am in between. Second of all, and what I hate the most, is that this show parades itself as some sort of friendly, accepting, "finally letting the big girls have their moment in the spotlight" show, while really objectifying those very women and doing so in front of the whole world. I could go on and on, but here is my main point. Obviously shows like that are anything but real anyways (this coming from someone who actually likes watching The Bachelor/Bachelorette), so why even bother trying to claim that this larger version is any more "real"? Corralling 30 women into a mansion to compete for a man's attention so he can propose and then later break-up with her (or vice versa with Bachelorette) is not generally the way real people fall in love, so let's just call this show the shock factor factory that it is. Honestly, my heart breaks for these women, who have some how been convinced that they will feel better about themselves if they confess their deepest insecurities about love/their bodies/etc in front of millions of viewers. Reality dating shows can be fun to watch, but honestly this latest version makes me sick.

Today's Blue Plate Special

Today's Blue Plate Special:

I am excited today/this week/in general about new albums coming out soon from A Fine Frenzy and Imogen Heap. YAY for great music and female singer/songwriters!

Also amazing: Any company that doesn't come up with an original logo that has anything to do with their actual product or service, and instead uses some form of a smiley face. Way to go, lures me right in.

Harry Potter: I'm jumping on the sin wagon and seeing the latest Harry Potter flick tonight! I love love love the series and although I haven't been obsessed with any of the movies, I do love to see them opening day and bask in delight of seeing grown muggles dressed up in red and yellow scarves and robes. (PS: if you don't get that I'm joking about the sin wagon bit, you and I should have a talk soon about my general ideas on how all great stories contain good vs. evil, the hypocrisy of loving the Narnia books or Lord of the Rings trilogy and yet claiming Harry Potter is a bad influence, or about how just because a book is marketed for children doesn't mean you have to let your 2nd grader read it and then blame witchcraft for his nightmares...I digress)

My Parents: have you met them? They are amazing. So is their boat, and I love when they come and visit and we sail the tumultuous seas together. I'm on a boat! (snl.com--check it)

I don't know your life (******)

I was in Starbucks buying some tea today and having a serious chat on the phone with one of my best friends. I usually hang up when I'm in a store, but I didn't want to be rude to my friend who was in the midst of an important story. Well the cheeky guy behind the counter picks up a banana (which by the way they sell now for .99 and they're all really pretty and not over-ripe) and starts pretending he's on the phone with it. I start to laugh and say "sorry", but he says "that's ok, I'm on the phone too". Although it was borderline awkward, since he was blantantly trying to make me feel bad for being on the phone, I found it to be quite amusing and well done. I remember working at Anthropologie and feeling like I was someone's servant while they chatted away on the phone and never acknowledged my presence as I rung them up and thinking it was pretty rude. Granted, I would have gotten in serious trouble for doing what he did, but hey--he was cute and it was clever and it made me laugh. Well played, Starbucks man, well played.

Beans and Hippos

A lot of people say they have the cutest kids (or in my case niece and nephew). I have the distinction of actually having THE CUTEST niece and nephew in all the land. Here are some pics from their recent trip to KY for the 4th.

Rocking my World Today:

1. The Addiction Dance on So You Think You Can Dance: There were tears


2. The little pink hats that my keys wear to help me remember which one is the top lock and which is the bottom: helpful AND attractive

3. Yogurtland: Don't worry, I still love Pinkberry's tart flavor the best, but for other flavor and self serve toppings, Yogurtland is where it's at this summer. Plus I love those pink and green spoons! Last night's combo--Vanilla Waffer, Chocolate, and Peanut Butter.

4. www.stuffchristianslike.net
It is hilarious, witty, and challanging.

Things I love Today

1. Trader Joe's version of Pirate's Booty: White Pouffertons of Delight!!!

2. Wednesday Discounted Car Washes

3. The Josh and Jamey Crazy Picture Telephone Game (they didn't make it up, and that's not the actual name, but they did bring it into my life and I have no idea what its real name is):
Step one: write down a random detailed sentence and pass to next person
Step two: that person draws a picture of your exact sentence, passes it on
Step three: next person writes a sentence of your picture, passes
Step four: next person draws a new picture, passes
Etc until it gets to the last person. Then you read them all/show them all and laugh until your heart explodes--believe me, unless you are all amazing artists you will end up with a very changed end product. I challange you all to play this game!

What do you love today?

Don't Cry for Me, BloggyFriends

I like to write about lobsters, love, and love lost. It's a topic that interests me and comes up a lot in conversations with friends. BUT I'm also lovin my life! So don't misinterpret my blogs as a step towards catladydom or shed any tears on my behalf. x

From Romanticism to Cynicism and Back Again

This past weekend, a friend of mine (who is British so obviously amazing!) was commenting on my life motto (Live.Love.Lose.Love.Live). One my best friends, Code Name Earrings, was kind enough to pass on my life motto during her time in the UK, so now it is floating around out there in my other favorite country. Anyways, he was mentioning that if it were up to him, the motto would actually be swapped to say Live.Love.Lose.LIVE.LOVE because he feels like after you lose, you learn to live before you can love again. He also pointed out that you don't have to love again in order to be living. This lead to a very interesting conversation about two of my favorite subjects--love and mottos. I thought I would share with you what my answer to him was.

Before I fell in love for the first time (and subsequently got my heart good and ripped out) I had a very idealistic view of love. This makes sense as I am an unwavering optimist and romantic(looking a Bride magazines to pass time on long flights at the age of 5). In a way I idolized love, thinking that it was somehow this pure life force that, once acquired, would be like an explosion of unicorns, rainbows, and Reese's Peanut Butter cups (or something like that...actually it sounds kind of scary if the unicorns are actually exploding instead of simply bursting forth from the rainbow). When that love did not work out (and I mean REALLY didn't work out) I thought this meant that either 1. it hadn't actually been love or 2. everything I had ever imagined about love, and the person I was in love with was actually false and nothing in life could ever be trusted again (can you tell I am also passionate and dramatic?) It took me a long time (and some very wise counsel) to see that just because love doesn't work out doesn't mean that it was not amazing or worth experiencing, sometimes you just end up loving someone who isn't your lobster, which usually involves an ending where people get hurt. This is a critical realization and a key part of growing up. It's almost like there were two versions of me: the before love and the after heartbreak. And honestly, although there is something really beautiful about the pure, naive idea of love I used to hold, I am glad I have been (painfully) enlightened. Now I realize that you may end up being in love with a bunch of people before you find someone you want to marry, and I think that's OK. I have a hard time when people over-emphasize things like not saying I love you (not that we should throw it around) because we think that somehow protects us from the actual love we are feeling (and not saying). Love is precious, but it isn't a one time only deal for most of us. And if we are determined to make it such (in dating), we are setting ourselves up to be exceedingly disappointed if it doesn't work out. Side note: there is a lot to be said for being in high school or college when experiencing this breakthrough as there is still A LOT of growing up to be done. And that is really what my life motto is about. After the losing, you experience a different kind of love: you realize that you can love apart from the heartache you have experienced. You can love your family, your friends, and the ultimate point: you can love and BE LOVED by God. And then you are living again! So although it may seem that my motto is simply about moving from heartache to heartache in search of the perfect blend of Harry Potter, Ryan Gosling, and Boaz (shout out to all the Christian seminars on love involving Ruth and Boaz written by people who seem to have found a lot of romance in the book that I simply have never found, sorry!) but what I'm really saying is that after you get your heart broken by a man/woman or any hard situation in life, you come to a place where you re-learn some important truths about love. For me the most important was that no one satisfies like God, no one on earth will ever live up to all my expectations, and it wasn't until I dealt with that that I felt ready to love and be loved in return (if you want you can sing that line and pretend you are Ewan McGregor in Moulin Rouge...I did!). And once you realize that earthly love is never perfect, you no longer have to live in fear that you will somehow always mess it up, or never be enough. And then my friends, you are really living!

As always I welcome your thoughts, arguments, and life mottos.

Lobster Hunting

I am on the lookout for my lobster, as explained by Phoebe:



My friend Laura recently hoped that she had finally found me my lobster when she happened upon this delight via the world wide web.

While I am doubtful that he and I will be holding claws in a tank any time soon, I appreciated the sentiment.

Kids Today...

One of these toys is real, one isn't...I found one to be hilarious and the other somewhat disturbing:

Plain Pamela and God Game

One is a mediocre to unfortunate looking Barbie Doll that boosts the confidence of "regular girls" everywhere.

The other is a computer game where you make up gods with various powers and then control people's lives and have them worship you. I found out about this game when a kid I know told me that over the weekend he created a god on this game with demonic powers and then forced all the people in his kingdom to bow down and worship him and that it was "awesome". I wonder if by awesome he meant creepy?

Oh how I miss the days when I used to hide my guinea pigs somewhere in my room, leave them for 2 minutes and then "rescue" them by wrapping a ton of toilet paper around them to heal their imaginary wounds...

Compeletion Date: Unknown

Today I walked past a house under construction and was enveloped in a huge cloud of grey dust. As I peered through the haze, I could see the mess behind the poorly erected fencing--rocks, dirt, trash, nails, wood all thrown around. It was ugly. It was messy. I looked up and down the street at all the other beautiful houses and perfectly manicured lawns and sighed. Oh how I can relate to you, house in the middle of being built. Much like cleaning out the closet, things are going to get much worse before they get better. Why is it that to make improvements, you always seem to have to make a mess of everything?

Some months you end up in the hospital and spending every Friday in the doctor's office. Some months you give half your savings account to said hospital for 12 hours of poking and prodding. Some months your dog dies, and people disappoint, and you realize for the millionth time that life (even when you are incredibly blessed in EVERY aspect) is hard hard hard.

But then a nice crinkly old man in the elevator tells you to have a great day. You sigh to yourself thinking "oh nice old crinkle man, if you only knew". But then you realize, I'm sure he knows way better than I do the ups and downs that every day brings, having lived through many more of them than you have. And if he's still cheerful and wishing strangers in elevators well, than you can keep your chin up.

Construction always takes longer than estimated, and it always makes a mess. So does cleaning out your closet, and usually somewhere halfway through you want to walk away and forget about it. But it's the mess, the contrast to the order and beauty we sometimes get a glimpse of, that keeps us working at cleaning it up, finishing the project, hopeful that the end is somewhere just around the corner...

Psalm 139:1-6 "Oh Lord you have searched me, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise. You perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down. You are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue, you know it completely Oh Lord. YOU HEM ME IN--BEHIND AND BEFORE, you have laid your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain."

Hear me Roar

I just read an article on CNN.com about new airport security technology that people are trying to ban due to the fact that they can "see you naked". I have several things to say in response to this.

1. Who cares if some random security guard locked in a room far away from the actual scanning site sees a faceless, blurry image of you naked?
2. This image is not being recorded, and chances are (unless you think VERY highly of yourself) unnamed guard is not going to remember you as he/she sees probably 10,000 naked blurry robot pictures in one day.
3. On the argument that security officials in LA are going to make millions by selling pictures of naked celebrities (see point one: they can's see your face) (see point two: they can't record the image) (SO yeah, what you're talking about is only a potential for the future, where it is also a potential that we will no longer need airports at all due to all the hover crafts and flying cars) also I'm pretty sure that most of said celebrities already have naked pictures of themselves circulating the Internet so nothing new there.
4. Aren't there enough important things going on in this world? Do we REALLY need to focus on this? I don't know if these scanners will really aid in stopping terrorists, or if they are worth spending the money on (hmmm, that would be a more worthwhile argument) but if they do I guess I don't really care if Joe Shmo gets at peek at the ladies.

Since I am ranting I have two other things to add:

1. (or is it 5?) I am SO sick of every fictional TV wedding being officiated by a woman. WE GET IT HOLLYWOOD, you are SO forward thinking and liberal. Oh wait, even my Southern Baptist church in GA had female pastors.
2. If Miley Cyrus is fat (or even 'normal'), I think I will just stay inside all summer.

Google This

Today is day 2 of my exercise free life.

SO with all my new found time (and trying not to move my leg as it is KILLING me) I have decided to try to broaden my online horizons. This is what I found so far.



After discovering a paragraph devoted to a fire breathing dragon in Job 41 I began to wonder, is there anyone out there who thinks that dragons/fire-breathing dinosaurs were real? You can imagine I was NOT disappointed by the barrage of google results, especially the fanatical Christian websites and conspiracy web pages. I did find one site that also traced the origins of the unicorn to their closely related (and actually real) cousins, the narwhals. You can imagine my delight. I decided not to reference the site as its creator had some less than ideal views on Jewish people and aliens. I digress

Eventually my fire breathing dinosaur googling led me to a website devoted to the robot below. I. AM. TERRIFIED.





A bit shaken up by what will soon become my latest nightmare about robots, I took a new approach to my surfing, and went straight to the news...you can see I immediately honed in on the important stuff. I was already planning on visiting NYC this year, so it wouldn't be crazy to just bump up my trip a little, right? And I am definitely interested in British affairs, so I expect I was already on the invite list for the benefit he will be attending...I always did like the bad boys...

Mutants Not Welcome Here

Today I went to the doctor and apparently I have torn a muscle in my leg doing this --well I was inside and I didn't look that cool, but nonetheless it really hurts! Sadly his remedy is not working out for A MONTH which means I'll probably end up looking like this. To make matters worse, or in other words to justify my self pity even more, he told me that I shouldn't go rock climbing at all due to my two mutant genetic blood conditions. (mutant condition X) (mutant condition Y) Up until now, I wasn't too worried about being a mutant for several obvious reasons:
1. I like X-Men and am currently awaiting confirmation that I have a superpower of some sort (I am hoping for unicorn vision or something involving elf ears)
2. It is cool to get up and roam the airplane with all the elderly people who are also avoiding mile high blood clots. We usually discuss our mutual love of knitting, V8, and living with more than 5 cats
3. My sister has hogged the medical drama in our family for too long--step aside Becky, for I too am a mutant (oh and by the way thanks for figuring out we had this and for dealing with a leg 10 sizes too big whilst 9 months pregnant...guess I owe you one)
4. My hematologist (that's right, I am 26 and have a hematologist, AND a podiatrist...not sexy?) said it really wouldn't affect my life and that since I am healthy and active I didn't need to change my lifestyle (except for popping a baby aspirin every once and a while). While apparently, she forgot to mention rock climbing. Not that I'm that much of a climber, but it was one of only a few lines I know to throw out at parties to increase my "serious and mysterious" factor since we all know the boys like rock climbing girls (Seriously guys, is it the spandex? Or the danger (sorry, not too dangerous when you're attached to a HARNESS and there is a BOUNCY FLOOR waiting to catch you below). Either way, guess I'll just have to save my mystery for these guys. Mutants Unite!

Zachopotamus

Dear Zachary,

I can't wait to meet you! Today is your birthday, and I am so excited I can barely sit still! I have to stay out in LA until tomorrow night, but I will come to meet you as soon as I can. I know you will have lots of sleeping to do before I get there. I am praying for you to come into the world safely. I know God has special plans for your life. You are such a special little man, who so many people already love before we have even met you. Since the moment I found out you were alive, I have waited for this day. Welcome my little Zachopotamus--I can't wait to kiss your fuzzy little head and sing you silly songs. I love you.

LaLa

Disaster Zone

So the other day I noticed this sign on my drive to work





Then as I turned off PCH and headed up the hill, I noticed this sign

I don't want to make light of tsunamis, but it kind of made me laugh when I looked at the website and saw this quote:

"While a tsunami threat to the Golden State is real, the potential for killer waves is far less likely than the earthquakes, wildfires, landslides and floods that plague the nation’s most populous state." http://latestnews.stanzooblogs.com/?p=4174



Made me feel REAL good. Case in point there was a sizable earthquake 30 minutes ago. The bad news was I couldn't feel my legs for about 10 minutes, but this is the FIRST time I've remembered to try to hide under the table (wine glass in hand-haha good timing earthquake). So all in all I feel prepared for all the disasters headed my way--after all they, in turn, may find me more of a disaster than they are ready to wrangle with.



In OTHER news I was at the store and saw that they are now making these




Yes that's right, the saturated market just made room for a candy bar with caffeine built in. Thanks--cause I couldn't just pick up a coffee with my fat bar.

Lastly I want to mention that for the third time in the past month I rode my bike up to Malibu and back and it is hands down one of my favorite parts of living in LA. I think I will add it to my summer list of must dos--also on the list: learn to play guitar and golf--that way at least I'll probably follow through on one item. If only I could avoid riding under the Santa Monica Pier or what I like to call "The tunnel of death and demon pigeons"...

Sigh

"My heart is full of rubber bands that keep getting caught on things"
--Butterfly Boucher, "Another White Dash"

Yet another life lesson from a tree

It is tree-trimming time in my neighborhood, and today they were out with a vengeance as I went on my morning walk. This is a joyous time for me, because one of the things on my "list" of wishes for my life is to ride in what I was taught to call a Cherry Picker--you know, the crane truck tree trimmer thing. If anyone has a hook up to make this happen, let me know--Seriously. Also I want to hold a puffin beat all the levels of Super Mario Bros 3 but I'm not holding my breath.

So I was walking past this one house, and I noticed that they had written notes and taped them to several of the trees on the border of their property. Obviously, I needed to read what was on those notes. They said "Hello tree trimmers, please do NOT trim my London Plane trees (Sycamores)". First of all, yes i DO wish I was on a plane to London right about now. Secondly, I liked how they went to the trouble to list both the actual tree name and the common name, as if the tree trimming crew would differentiate.

Quick side note--do you watch 30 Rock? It's really funny. Lately they've been doing this thing where they show the world through the eyes of some of the characters--Jack sees dollar values on everything and everyone, Tracy sees himself instead of other people, and my favorite Kenneth sees everyone as Muppets. I see metaphors and symbolism EVERYWHERE, so I think if someone where to video my point of view it would be trees that were telling my important life lessons and flowers that had little faces and were singing and waterfalls that played music and dogs and cats that were unicorns and narwhals with wisdom to impart.

ANYWAY, that side note was just to point out that I can't help myself to make a poetic metaphor involving those trees and my life. Suck it up, here it is. It struck me that I do that in my own life--I put little notes up for God to read, like "don't touch this" or "I'll just take care of this one" because I'm scared of what his idea of upkeep might look like in my life. And that is ridiculous, because he knows much better than I do what needs trimming and what doesn't. Let's be honest, the landscaper usually knows more about what needs to be done than the homeowner. But of course we want what we want, and oftentimes lack the perspective of one greater than ourselves. I know in my head that trees need to be trimmed, in order to produce a better bloom the following year, but my heart just reminds me that the trees look really stupid all pruned back and I just want the benefit of all the flowers with no downsides. There's also the idea that the trees are trimmed for the greater good of the whole neighborhood. If each was left to its own devices, pretty soon I wouldn't be able to drive down the street, or enjoy my morning walk without crazy leaves attacking me (and the scary spiders that sometimes are hanging from them!). Sadly I am so self focused that I usually care more about what this "trimming" or upkeep is doing to me rather than how it could be for the benefit of those around me.

Ironically after all that thinking I passed the house again and noticed that the trees really DIDN'T need trimming, but then I realized, who am I to say? So I thanked God for this day--hard times/trimming and all, and kept on walking.

I am back

So it has taken awhile, and some friendly nudging from my friends (mom that is you too) but here I am. I have missed you, bloggington. I have been 1. busy and 2. riding the tumultuous seas of my life and not really sure how to write about it.

So I had SO much fun in Atlanta and at JPs' wedding--so much in fact, that I can't even consolidate it into a post. I will say that I am SO blessed because I got to spend 11 days surrounded by my best friends and so much love, laughter, and a few tornadoes (well that part wasn't the highlight). The whole week has left me in a sort of high, which may or may not also have to do with the fact that it started feeling like SUMMER and I am SO excited.

The onset of summer has affected me in several ways:

1. It makes me want to eat summery food like lemony couscous, grilled chicken (on the boat--it just tastes better!), things with cilantro and basil in them, and Coronas. I find it amusing that my food cravings change so much when the season does. I hope you all will join me for boat/food nights soon.

2. Summer makes me boy crazy. I know this is really ridiculous, since I always have been, but summer just makes me feel entitled to having fun date nights. Unfortunately all my love arrows have been bouncing right off their subjects but watch out because I have more to throw.

3. Whether it is the heat or knowing there are so many people out and about, I want to be doing something out in LA all the time. I am all about curling up on my couch and watching some Felicity, but I feel like winter was the time for hibernating inside and now it's time to PLAY. I want to go star watching at the Griffith Park observatory, I want to ride my bike to the farmer's market, and eat all my meals at outdoor cafes.

4. I can't stop writing folksy songs including but not limited to one about a mermaid who falls in love with a lion, one about playing on the playground, and of course the now classic "Don't obssess just confess your love to me" which I co-wrote with my roommate. Anyone else up for some collaborations?

I can't say it is because of the change of season, because I have always been a dreamer and an incurable romantic but lately it's been even harder than usual for me to keep my feet on the ground. I often feel like I am a balloon, who at the slightest chance for freedom will escape away to the clouds. I am so nostalgic about the past, and so hopeful for the future that I have trouble enjoying the now. And let's be honest, I should be enjoying it because it is pretty grand. So this summer, or this week, or just for today that it what I'm striving for. Wish me well.

I am feeling a bit poetic today...

In my psychology class this week we talked quite a bit about hypnosis. I've never been hypnotized or present at a demonstration, but I've always been intrigued by the idea. Basically my professor totally demystified it for me, explaining that it is hardly the alternate state of consciousness that many perceive it to be. It's really more of a relaxation technique, designed to help people calm down through breathing exercises and focused meditative thoughts. Once relaxed, the idea is that the hypnotized person is able/willing to access thoughts or feelings that they would otherwise leave alone. My textbook and my professor agree that the hypnotist does not hold any power over the patient, and isn't controlling them in any way--basically the patient does all the work by the power of suggestion. What it really seems to come down to are our own defense systems, so intricately built up to protect us--even from ourselves--to the point of needing someone else to calm us down and tell us it's ok to feel and to think and to let go. I haven't been able to stop thinking about this since, I think because I find it simultaneously beautiful and sad. Sad because we live in a world where we must build up defenses, or at least we think that we do, often to our own detriment. And beautiful because the truth is there is someone there to tell us it's ok to feel and to think and to be who we really are. May the walls fall down.

I want the gold

Just in case someone in my life has yet to experience this delight...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nda_OSWeyn8

Flights of Fancy

Today I saw two pigeons kind of swimming in a big puddle (do pigeons swim? Google results say yes--thank God for Google: http://www.flickr.com/photos/q8lt/219753727/), and although they gross me out, I thought it looked like they were having fun. That, in turn, inspired me to go directly through a set of sprinklers further along my run a la childhood fun in the yard. Turns out spandex running pants don't take well to water...

That reminded me of a time a couple of years ago when I was working at Anthropologie on 3rd St. Promenade. A flustered man approached me in a panic, telling me that he had seen a pigeon fly into one of our windows, and said pigeon had broken its neck and was now paralyzed on the sidewalk, unable to move but in a lot of pain nonetheless. This is honestly a direct quote. He was very upset when I informed him that no, I didn't think I was going to call animal services or a vet. When I asked him why HE didn't call, he said it was my responsibility as an employee of the store who had caused the pigeon's untimely demise. Did I mention that based on appearances this man was a normal 30ish guy who was shopping with his wife? Who knew he was also a bird whisperer? I still am not sure if it was some sort of test from corporate (perhaps my promotion shortly after was a direct result of my amazing handling of the tragic pigeon episode). I never did find out what happened to that poor bird...

Later on my run today I saw a huge crow (of whose species I generally detest due to an unfortunate comparison that a guy made between said birds and my general appearance. Still getting over that). This crow was trying to fly, but almost falling due to a huge piece of twig in her mouth which I can only assume she was trying to build a nest with. She is a fighter, and finally gained some air, flying off into the distance to conquer her life. And I decided maybe crows aren't so bad after all.

Commercial Appetite

At they gym this morning I was watching the TV without the sound, pretty much ignoring the important CNN updates and focusing only on the commercials. I love my Tivo, but I do occasionally miss all the hilarious ads that I no longer get to make fun of--this morning I caught two real gems. The first was an ad for some sort of cookie. My attention was grabbed by all these people with before and after weight loss pictures, some of whom had lost over 100 pounds. The funny part was that unlike other weight loss ads I've seen, these people were EATING during their testimonial. Seriously, they were putting bites in their mouths and then talking. If only I could have heard the sound...Anyways apparently this ad is for some magical system of cookies that make you lose weight. I call them magical because the ad showed an animation of all TYPES of stuff being poured into these cookies--fruits, nuts, pieces of wheat, granola, all being poured with milk into a square wonder cookie, that I'm guessing makes you lose weight as long as you only eat the cookies every day for 3 months. I am loving this new cookie make of milk and 20 billion other things that will help me lose 100 pounds--if only I had been able to write down the phone number...Do you think I could eat these cookies whilst wearing my Snuggy?



The other ad was for...who am I kidding, I don't know what the ad was for...something financial...and it had this adorable red piggy bank hopping all over the screen eating little dollar symbols. Every time he ate one, he got fatter, until he was so fat he filled up the whole screen and sort of rolled around (there was even a flying dollar sign, but he caught that too!) I swear, if I could actually remember what this company was (HSBC??? Something like that?) I would go out and buy whatever they sell, because darn it if their adorable red piggy didn't capture my heart.



So basically today I learned that eating money will make you fat, but cookies will help you lose 100 pounds.



Speaking of cookies, I do have to say one more thing--Oh elusive once-a-year Girl Scout Cookies! You are hard to get, and that makes me want you all the more! I'm really not sure if you taste that great, or if I only love your mystery and intrigue...

Ellie Grace!

My BFF Anna had her first baby, a girl named Elizabeth Grace Prusa. Here are some pics--isn't she adorable?

I am going to meet her over Easter and I can't wait!

This morning I re-kindled my love for grapefruits when I ate one on my parent's boat, enjoying the amazing LA weather and the pleasure of my mom and dad's company. This weekend I get to host a bridal shower for one of my dearest friends, and I'm having an amazing time party planning, cleaning and cooking. Yup-life is good.

Reassurance

"Well, you can't hold back all the crazy"--

My friend Scott's earnest attempt at reassurance, responding to my inability to remain "serious and mysterious" in front of a crush. So true, so true.

This only two weeks after my friend's dad (whom I admire and respect) told me I may need to leave the country in order to be better appreciated and understood by the opposite sex.

Perhaps I should take a nod from my Pleistocene ancestors, whom according to my psychology book had very different evolutionary mating principles--"They lived in small bands, and if they were lucky they might get to choose between Urp and Ork, and that's about it; they could not hold out for some gorgeous babe or handsome millionaire down the road" (do I need to reference this? perhaps my mysterious follower RbGzABcwkooblahblahblah is a spy for the MLA police? That's right secret person, I am calling you out).

Either way, I think we can all learn a lot from Scott, Urp, and Ork...or not.

Poofy Trees and Predictive Text and I'm sorry this blog is way too long

So as part of my new found embracement (?) of technology, yesterday I decided to update my info on facebook. One of my pet peeves is when people refuse to take part in a fad or trend just because everyone else is doing it and they are so "non-mainstream". I think being a true individual means accepting that sometimes you will indeed like things that other people are into (I think this would be a good moment to say that yes I did see Titanic 7 times in the theater, and I am neither ashamed nor obsessed with Leo, although I may be obsessed with Kate). ANYWAYS, yesterday I was humbled to find that I had been doing that very thing in believing myself to be above taking facebook somewhat seriously. As a member of the original facebook generation, I have been hesitant to take it to the next level as it has become a phenom-I don't update my status, I rarely post pictures (although I constantly untag myself from them--oh vanity!), etc. So with an air of humility, I decided to update some of my favorite books, TV shows, etc. and to stop worrying that people may not innately understand that I do read serious literature despite the fact that all that comes to mind while I'm posting is Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day. It was much to my surprise when I started typing and the great facebook robot started trying to guess the end of all of my words. Honestly, I found it to be a little over eager. I mean come on facebook, stop trying to pretend you know me SO well and no I WASN'T trying to type Knot's Landing, what do you take me for? And is that really necessary? Either the facebook people think I am too lazy to finish typing my words, or they are trying to pretend we are way closer than we actually are.

The point of this rambling is that the whole experience got me thinking about the idea of "predictive text" in our lives. Maybe it's because I am an ENFP (if you don't know what I'm talking about then we need to talk about Keirsey), or because I am an artist, or whatever, but being truly known is a huge concept for me. Nothing makes me feel more loved than being understood by the people I am close to, and nothing gets me more riled up than someone saying they know what I am thinking or feeling when they don't. Here's an self-revealing example: I always notice the first time someone calls me "Lex", and it usually makes me feel really happy, like yay, we are really friends! There have been a few times, however, when someone has called me that and I felt really uncomfortable. It's a small example of what I believe is a bigger issue--that a key part of being known or understood is being in some context of relationship, and without one it can seem intrusively intimate. And despite the fact that I think it means more to some than to others (or at least that I think about more than "normal" people) I believe we all seek out understanding, and conversely pull back when we encounter false or misguided intimacy.
I just learned about a concept called "confirmation bias" in my psychology class at SMC (I am trying to better my mind with a random college course) which basically says that we seek out ideas/theories that confirm our pre-existing ones and I was struck by the truth in this. Who doesn't want validation, right? But the truth is we can't grow without being challenged, and our beliefs aren't worth much if we haven't really examined and tested them. I realize that this has virtually nothing to do with my "predictive text" theory, but I think in a way we both long for and fear the idea of someone knowing us that well, to the point where they can guess what we're going to say or really understand the way we are feeling. I guess this isn't really some bold, new idea as everyone knows that intimacy is both fulfilling and frightening, but this is where my head happened to be this morning. It also coincided with an experience I had the other day, when I was driving in Venice and came across this amazingly quirky tree with bright pink flowers. I tried to take a picture of it for you, but I my phone somehow deleted it. Anyways, I had been feeling somewhat distant from God last week, and having some pretty self-pitying thoughts about Him not understanding me or being able to handle my "complicated" nature. The truth is I don't believe that at all--I believe in fact that He created me, and knows me more completely than I know myself and yet still loves me unconditionally (grace is crazy but amazing!) but hey, we all have moments of doubt and thankfully He can handle that. When I saw this tree, I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. I can't explain exactly why, and I'm not sure if this is too silly to even say, but seeing that tree reminded me that God isn't all about the "stately" "serious" or even "normal" trees--he made pines and oaks but he also made that kooky little tree on Rose Street with poofy Dr. Suess-like pink flowers--and I was struck once again by the reassurance of being known and loved by the creator of the universe. So facebook may never really get me--but I'm ok with that.

Ailing Adventures

So I inconveniently got sick on Saturday, much to my dismay as I had visions of posts filled with wit and splendor relating to this new blog. Instead I bought the second season of Arrested Development and lost myself in the world of the Bluths for several days. One consolation to my recent sickness was that I got to do one of my secret favorite things that I save for times of ailment: using the symptom checker on WebMD. That's right, I am that person. The reasons that I love doing this are threefold. 1. You never know what crazy illness you're going to get when you work with kids 2. You get to fill in online check boxes and do a sort of choose your adventure game which never gets old to me and 3. i ALWAYS end up with an notice that says "Seek emergency care immediately". Seriously. It doesn't matter what is wrong with me, and I continue to get a kick out of it although at this point it has lost the fear factor that it once held. I know this could seem sort of messed up, but it isn't that I want to be ill or that I mock those who are, it's more that I find it ironic that this impersonal, medicinal website is actually more dramatic than I am. To be fair I do think that ever since I got pleurisy (that's right--I'm medieval!) I automatically have intense chest pain every time I have any sort of sickness which my Doctor claims is totally normal (for a week, a month, a year, who knows could be forever--his words. so reassuring!) The website, poor robot that it is (who am I kidding, I am totally jealous of it's robotic powers), cannot differentiate between a mild case of plague and heart failure. Either way, it's always a bright spot whenever I am under the weather.



Good news is I'm back, and not a moment too soon as Whitney sent me a picture of a pink albino dolphin that has recently been sighted in a US lake. What is next, pink unicorn sightings? One can only hope.

Definition Inhabition

Yes that's right, I am posting multiple posts in one day. Am not sure about blogging etiquette, too eager?

Confession: I love mottos! Mostly because you can say something completely ridiculous and dramatic, and also kind of mean it at the same time. I have a motto for 2009, my 26th year, and of course, a life motto (which you can see beneath my blog title). Sometimes I even have a motto for my day. The truth is, sometimes it feels nice to put a little definition on life. Isn't that really what goals are? They define who we are and where we are going. We live in a world where people are desperate to find definition, but in a culture that simultaneously makes us feel like idiots for desiring it. We are quick to say "don't define me! I am more than my experiences, my appearance, etc." and I couldn't agree more. But sometimes, definition can be a good thing. My Dad always used to make me send him a list of goals for each semester in college and I always dreaded it. As a free-spirited dreamer I preferred to just live and see what happened. But as I've gotten older, I have begun to greatly appreciate taking a look at where I am, where I want to be, and what it might look like to get from A to B. So in that spirit, I started my motto campaign which is my version of a goal list. Plus, it's a lot more snappy to say "Too forward? Too Late!" than to say "this year I'm going to take more chances, I'm going to put myself out there and not be afraid blah blah blah". So I challenge each of you (3 people that will read this) to make your own motto. Do it as a joke, say whatever comes to mind, and then step back and let it sink in. You may have just said that you want to climb a mountain inside your heart to discover what your dreams are made of (used without permission--sorry Earrings!) which could be nonsense OR you could be saying that you want to be more introspective and take time to see what you really want out of life. Crazy or Credible? I walk a thin line...

What am I doing here?

I have been juggling the pros and cons of entering the blog world for a while now. On one hand I always seem to have a LOT to say, but on the other hand it is often about nothing and/or unicorns, which I am pretty sure the general public has no interest in. A lot of my friends have blogs and I really enjoy reading them, but they all have babies or weddings or live in a foreign country which gives their blogs more of a theme or purpose, wheras I don't have any specific thing to blog about. It also feels a little self-centered to have a website devoted to myself, but in the end I decided that I love to write and find a lot of clarity and purpose through my writing, so here we are.

What can I expect from a Lexi blog you might ask? I don't have a concrete plan, but knowing me here are some of the varied topics on which I may ponder via the world wide web:

God
Relationships
Family
Scotland
Symbolism
Life in Los Angeles
My latest "obsessions" which could range from the newest flavor of Pinkberry to a book I am reading or the fact that gmail apparently has themes you can choose from to make your email page look like an upside-down ice cream world inhabited by the Powerpuff Girls (try it-I dare you!)
Words I make up (TRUTH: I thought the word "Lexicon" was something made up to describe all my original words until I was in high school--perhaps I am really self-centered?)
Dogs, iPhones, Dishwashers and other things I would like to have but do not

SO, if the references to mythiclogical creatures and the fact that I have no idea what I am doing didn't scare you off then Welcome! I hope what I have to say will make you think or laugh or just keep you busy while taking a break from your job/online shopping/cup of coffee/narwhal watching/etc.