Thanks to the lovely selections Pandora has hand picked for me today, I now want to: touch the rains down in Africa, die in your arms tonight, take a stairway to heaven, look wonderful tonight, say what I need to say, wonder "what about love?", not wait til the water runs dry, take a breathe that's true, and to find the secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord.
Pandora, you rock, my friend. And in turn you make my work day rock!
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
3 Cheers for...
-Summer hours at work! What what!
-Eating outdoors before it gets way too hot and your make-up melts off of your face before dessert arrives.
-Loving your neighborhood and the fantastic people that come with it all.
-Neighbors that let you crash their pool. I respect generosity.
-Red Velvet ice cream from Ben and Jerry's! Double high-fives for you my men.
-My gym playlist on my iPod. Who knew "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" could be so motivating?!
-Actually enjoying the gym.
-Discvering wild raspberries and blackberries growing in my neighborhood. Those things ain't cheap in the store= score!
-"Rolling In The Deep" by Adele
-Headphones while working out in case the creepy man wants to try and talk your ear off.
-Birthday Fiestas
-Maxi dresses, rompers, and new flip flops!!
-Sunglasses
-The beach. D.U.H.
-Did I mention summer hours at work?!
-Feeling like blogging again:)
-Eating outdoors before it gets way too hot and your make-up melts off of your face before dessert arrives.
-Loving your neighborhood and the fantastic people that come with it all.
-Neighbors that let you crash their pool. I respect generosity.
-Red Velvet ice cream from Ben and Jerry's! Double high-fives for you my men.
-My gym playlist on my iPod. Who knew "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" could be so motivating?!
-Actually enjoying the gym.
-Discvering wild raspberries and blackberries growing in my neighborhood. Those things ain't cheap in the store= score!
-"Rolling In The Deep" by Adele
-Headphones while working out in case the creepy man wants to try and talk your ear off.
-Birthday Fiestas
-Maxi dresses, rompers, and new flip flops!!
-Sunglasses
-The beach. D.U.H.
-Did I mention summer hours at work?!
-Feeling like blogging again:)
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Rain, Rain Go Away
After about 4 days of non-stop rain and gloom, I'm thankful for the following things:
-My new fave boyfriend-style sweat pants from Victoria's Secret
-Haitian Coffee from Mom
-Movie night w/ Tracy
-Cozy blanket time with my lil Pig
-Whale covered rain boots
-No place to go, but my couch on a Saturday afternoon
-Listening to the rain while you sleep
-Fun Super Bowl plans to look forward to
-Making homemade soups for Sunday
-A big, fat excuse to be LAZY!!!
-My new fave boyfriend-style sweat pants from Victoria's Secret
-Haitian Coffee from Mom
-Movie night w/ Tracy
-Cozy blanket time with my lil Pig
-Whale covered rain boots
-No place to go, but my couch on a Saturday afternoon
-Listening to the rain while you sleep
-Fun Super Bowl plans to look forward to
-Making homemade soups for Sunday
-A big, fat excuse to be LAZY!!!
Thursday, February 3, 2011
A Girl, A Gym, and A Mission
It's no surprise to many that I do not work out, nor do I do anything that slighting resembles working out. I do not hide it, but I am not proud of it either. Laziness is just so much more comfy to me than activity as it relates to weights, treadmills, etc... Watching TV at night is like changing into sweatpants after being in stuffy dress pants (aka, the gym) after a long day. And you better believe that I'll chose the sweatpants every single time. It's just who I am, sadly.
All of the above being said, I'm tired of always choosing the sweats. Seriously, I'm 32 and in good health and naturally slim (by the grace of God), but there is nothing tone about this chica, and that I can no longer live with. So, what to do about it? Put on my big girl pants and march myself to the gym. Which I did for the first time last night. Literally. I literally walked to the gym and back. Did you actually just hear the angels singing and the seas parting? I did.
When my roommate asked "do you want to just walk to the gym for our workout?" I almost laughed, shouted "are you nuts", and opened a bag of chips. But instead I said "okay". Ladies and gents, I WALKED to the gym. In the dark mind you. Then I worked out for about 30 min, and walked back. What, what! Bring it, folks who drove the gym!
Am I sore today? No. Does that scare me for what may hit tomorrow? Dear Lord, yes. But I survived and feel really great about myself. Granted I did trip in a hole, thanks to walking along the shoulder of a 1.5 mile road in the dark with cars flying by, and I also walked into a bush and caught my hand on a splinter bush, but I did it.
So here's to this girl, a gym, and a mission to tone and trade in the sweats. Or at least trade them in until after I work out after work. Let's not get all crazy here.
All of the above being said, I'm tired of always choosing the sweats. Seriously, I'm 32 and in good health and naturally slim (by the grace of God), but there is nothing tone about this chica, and that I can no longer live with. So, what to do about it? Put on my big girl pants and march myself to the gym. Which I did for the first time last night. Literally. I literally walked to the gym and back. Did you actually just hear the angels singing and the seas parting? I did.
When my roommate asked "do you want to just walk to the gym for our workout?" I almost laughed, shouted "are you nuts", and opened a bag of chips. But instead I said "okay". Ladies and gents, I WALKED to the gym. In the dark mind you. Then I worked out for about 30 min, and walked back. What, what! Bring it, folks who drove the gym!
Am I sore today? No. Does that scare me for what may hit tomorrow? Dear Lord, yes. But I survived and feel really great about myself. Granted I did trip in a hole, thanks to walking along the shoulder of a 1.5 mile road in the dark with cars flying by, and I also walked into a bush and caught my hand on a splinter bush, but I did it.
So here's to this girl, a gym, and a mission to tone and trade in the sweats. Or at least trade them in until after I work out after work. Let's not get all crazy here.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
40 Day Blogging Challenge
After being way too slack with my posts, I've decided to take a 40 day blogging challenge to help get myself back into the habit of writing.
Here goes nothing!
Here goes nothing!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Memorable Scenes
For Christmas I asked for the book A Millions Miles In A Thousand Years, which I so thankfully received. I love the author, Donald Miller, but honestly had no idea what the book was about until I cracked open the first page. To say that I love this book would be true, but to say I've been challenged and energized by this book would be a better statement. Million Miles is simply a book about creating and writing a story. It seems redundant to read a story about writing a story, but somehow he makes it work, and challenges me to not just write stories in my head, but to live them out loud. In real time.
Tonight's read was about how every great story has a memorable scene. The pivotal scene in a movie does not usually happen in a Starbucks, nor does it happen in some one's living room. It happens on a mountain top. Or at the foot of the ocean. As I read this my mind quickly started drifting to a few of my memorable scenes and I was suddenly right back there, in those places, in those moments, reliving greatness:
~On the ice in 1997, in a white and gold costume, landing my second double-double combination in front of friends and family, and feeling the realization that I would pass my senior freestyle, figure skating test before I officially hung up my skates for college. 13 years of training, early mornings, 6 days a week was worth it only 45 seconds into my program.
~Running across the sand with friends as we experienced Folly Beach for the first time. Leaving that same sand only 13 days later, I walked to the car knowing I had found my second home and that I would return. Little did I know I'd spend 13 years there and counting.
~Falling head first out of an airplane after one of my best friends lost her boyfriend so that she could release his ashes from 13,000 feet. Seeing the earth below me once my shoot opened, and gliding across the sky in complete and utter silence would give me the courage and knowledge that I could do anything if given the opportunity and the will. We are greater than our fears.
~Driving away from a church, on a dirt road in Nicaragua, after saying goodbye at the first clinic I had ever served in, knowing I would never see the faces again that I had just fallen in love with. Painful and beautiful all at the same time.
~Riding a jet-ski off of the Gulf of Mexico out into literally the deep blue sea until land was just a speck. Having the guide dive down and bring up a starfish for me to hold was like someone bringing up a handful of gold.
I don't know what my future holds, but I do know that I don't plan on waiting around in coffee shops and my living room for greatness to take place. Mountain tops, oceans, and dirt roads, here I come.
Tonight's read was about how every great story has a memorable scene. The pivotal scene in a movie does not usually happen in a Starbucks, nor does it happen in some one's living room. It happens on a mountain top. Or at the foot of the ocean. As I read this my mind quickly started drifting to a few of my memorable scenes and I was suddenly right back there, in those places, in those moments, reliving greatness:
~On the ice in 1997, in a white and gold costume, landing my second double-double combination in front of friends and family, and feeling the realization that I would pass my senior freestyle, figure skating test before I officially hung up my skates for college. 13 years of training, early mornings, 6 days a week was worth it only 45 seconds into my program.
~Running across the sand with friends as we experienced Folly Beach for the first time. Leaving that same sand only 13 days later, I walked to the car knowing I had found my second home and that I would return. Little did I know I'd spend 13 years there and counting.
~Falling head first out of an airplane after one of my best friends lost her boyfriend so that she could release his ashes from 13,000 feet. Seeing the earth below me once my shoot opened, and gliding across the sky in complete and utter silence would give me the courage and knowledge that I could do anything if given the opportunity and the will. We are greater than our fears.
~Driving away from a church, on a dirt road in Nicaragua, after saying goodbye at the first clinic I had ever served in, knowing I would never see the faces again that I had just fallen in love with. Painful and beautiful all at the same time.
~Riding a jet-ski off of the Gulf of Mexico out into literally the deep blue sea until land was just a speck. Having the guide dive down and bring up a starfish for me to hold was like someone bringing up a handful of gold.
I don't know what my future holds, but I do know that I don't plan on waiting around in coffee shops and my living room for greatness to take place. Mountain tops, oceans, and dirt roads, here I come.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
What I Learned In My 31st Year.
Your thirties are still better than your 20's. Anything is possible. Curve balls multiply. The more you can handle, the more people throw your way. Change is inevitable, unless it pertains my trusty nokia flip phone from 2002. I do not want an iPhone. I am the ONLY person who does not want an iPhone. I like apple Saki, who knew? Africa is not in my future for 2011 as I planned in 2010. Nicaragua is still very present, and Africa will wait until the Lord calls me there Himself. Fear can have the biggest foothold in your life. Risks are scary. Not taking risks is just as scary. Love hurts. Sandra Bullock rocks. I can handle living with 3 girls and 6 animals for one week in my humble townhouse if needed to help a friend. Best friends sometimes move home(YAY). The Bachelor is an addiction, regardless of whether or not I can stand the man they chose. Cooking is therapeutic. I am a slight hoarder. I miss my family. I love snow. Ice can shut down a city. Prom dresses can change lives. I still need to start working out. Falling down can hurt long after your pride heals. You can accomplish great things if you stop listening to the "you can't do it voices" in your own head and listen to the encouraging words of others. Any movie with Leonardo DiCaprio in 2010 was awful. I cry at the drop off a hat when happy, sad, angry, etc... I will not watch another Paranormal Activity movie. My mom will try and sucker me in to every Paranormal Activity movie. Mom usually wins. Darn it. I have amazing people in my life. I have more than I deserve. I am committed to making my 32nd year the best it can be.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
My Christmas Break Highlight...
...well, one of my many highlights, but the true topper was serving at the Rockford Rescue Mission with my mom. I've done my fair share of community outreach projects over the years, but this past week's event was by far one of the coolest thing I have done. Ever.
When I arrived home, my mom invited to serve lunch with her and her mission trip teammates at the local rescue mission. Seeing as though I had nothing planned and with the event still allotting ample time for me to sleep in, I thought "why not". Not exactly selfless, but at least I agreed based on my wide open calendar. So off we went in the snow and cold to serve what I thought would be your average soup kitchen lunch. Boy was I wrong.
In we walked to a Christmas wonderland, where every table had fresh flowers, hand decorated place mats, goodie bags with snacks and candy, and Christmas trees and decor galore. These people were doing it up right! We quickly learned that this would be one of only 2 seated and served meals these people will get throughout the year. They would come in, find a seat and be served by yours truly. I was quickly humbled by the fact that we really were going to be "serving" these folks their one, hot Christmas meal. No soup and stale bread would ensue, but hot and fresh ham, potatoes, green bean casseroles, etc...
While we began to serve up the plates (I was graced with the duty of potato scooper), we watched as members of their women's recovery program preformed a Christmas dance routine in white robes. The song they chose was about trials and struggles, but that the Lord was with you through it all. As they danced to the words, people slowly started standing up one by one in the crowd and clapping and shouting praises to the Lord. It broke my heart and warmed it at the same time that these people who literally have nothing but what they carry in a duffel bag, could still shout praises to their God. I knew in that second that I know nothing of struggles. Not a thing.
After the meal concluded, we were blessed to be able to give gifts to each attendee before they headed back out into the balmy temps of an Illinois winter. A Bible, new gloves, new socks, and a scarf were given to each person as they left. Being the resident scarf passer-outer, I was able to give them some warmth as they thanked us and wished us a Merry Christmas. Insert humbled heart once again. One of the younger men stopped and chatted for a moment and I asked where he was from. He said "he moved here from NY a few years ago" and I couldn't help but wonder if he chased a dream here only to be cold, alone and homeless a few years later. I know they all have stories, as we all do, but I wish I had had the time to learn more of them.
Last but not least, after we were all done and our aprons were in the trash, the rescue mission staff sat us down and fed us lunch. It was so unnecessary, but so cool to be eating exactly what they had eaten and only after making sure they were served first. With hearts and bellies full we all bundled back up to the brave the streets. Or at least from the mission to our cars. Humbled once again as we drove away, heat blasting, my mind wandered as we passed our diners gathered along the street corners and the bus station. Now what do they do, I thought quietly.
It's only January 4th, but I'm already looking forward to serving that meal again next year. Granted it was hot and sweaty, my wrist hurt from scooping so quickly, and we smelled a bit like ham the rest of the day, but wearing a hair net in a cafeteria line has never felt so good. I'm so thankful for the lives we encountered, the mouths we fed, and the necks we warmed. I'm praying their still a little bit toastier somewhere in Rockford.
When I arrived home, my mom invited to serve lunch with her and her mission trip teammates at the local rescue mission. Seeing as though I had nothing planned and with the event still allotting ample time for me to sleep in, I thought "why not". Not exactly selfless, but at least I agreed based on my wide open calendar. So off we went in the snow and cold to serve what I thought would be your average soup kitchen lunch. Boy was I wrong.
In we walked to a Christmas wonderland, where every table had fresh flowers, hand decorated place mats, goodie bags with snacks and candy, and Christmas trees and decor galore. These people were doing it up right! We quickly learned that this would be one of only 2 seated and served meals these people will get throughout the year. They would come in, find a seat and be served by yours truly. I was quickly humbled by the fact that we really were going to be "serving" these folks their one, hot Christmas meal. No soup and stale bread would ensue, but hot and fresh ham, potatoes, green bean casseroles, etc...
While we began to serve up the plates (I was graced with the duty of potato scooper), we watched as members of their women's recovery program preformed a Christmas dance routine in white robes. The song they chose was about trials and struggles, but that the Lord was with you through it all. As they danced to the words, people slowly started standing up one by one in the crowd and clapping and shouting praises to the Lord. It broke my heart and warmed it at the same time that these people who literally have nothing but what they carry in a duffel bag, could still shout praises to their God. I knew in that second that I know nothing of struggles. Not a thing.
After the meal concluded, we were blessed to be able to give gifts to each attendee before they headed back out into the balmy temps of an Illinois winter. A Bible, new gloves, new socks, and a scarf were given to each person as they left. Being the resident scarf passer-outer, I was able to give them some warmth as they thanked us and wished us a Merry Christmas. Insert humbled heart once again. One of the younger men stopped and chatted for a moment and I asked where he was from. He said "he moved here from NY a few years ago" and I couldn't help but wonder if he chased a dream here only to be cold, alone and homeless a few years later. I know they all have stories, as we all do, but I wish I had had the time to learn more of them.
Last but not least, after we were all done and our aprons were in the trash, the rescue mission staff sat us down and fed us lunch. It was so unnecessary, but so cool to be eating exactly what they had eaten and only after making sure they were served first. With hearts and bellies full we all bundled back up to the brave the streets. Or at least from the mission to our cars. Humbled once again as we drove away, heat blasting, my mind wandered as we passed our diners gathered along the street corners and the bus station. Now what do they do, I thought quietly.
It's only January 4th, but I'm already looking forward to serving that meal again next year. Granted it was hot and sweaty, my wrist hurt from scooping so quickly, and we smelled a bit like ham the rest of the day, but wearing a hair net in a cafeteria line has never felt so good. I'm so thankful for the lives we encountered, the mouths we fed, and the necks we warmed. I'm praying their still a little bit toastier somewhere in Rockford.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Why I Could Never Be a Consultant
I'm slowly realizing that I am not one of those people who loves to travel. With that realization comes the knowledge that I can confidently scratch "work as a consultant" off of my "I wonder if I'd be good at ______" list. It's really no skin off my back, but I do wish that I loved being a jet setter a bit more than I do to simply make traveling something of excitement and not of labor.
If you're anything like me, your travel begins with a list of what you need and what you might need. Why does my might list always weigh 20 lbs more than my need list? Do I really need 12 outfit options for a 4 day trip? Probably not. 5 pairs of shoes for a long weekend? Survey says...nope. Do I really need a sleeping mask, sleepy time pills and a travel size fan just in case I cannot sleep while in the hotel? Still guessing no, BUT what if I get there, I need them, and I left them at home? The sheer possibility of these questions and mights is why my suitcase weighs more than someone who is trying to smuggle a small child into the country (which by the way, I am not, if you are airport security and read this post. Thanks).
So now that I've conquered packing, it's on to the airport. Although I wish I was the type of person who can pull up a stool in an airport restaurant or grab a beverage at Harry Carey's while waiting for my flight. Again, sadly, it's a no go for this gal. I'm more of the grab a burger and fries at McD's and anxiously await any flight announcements at the gate. Even if the lay-over is 2.5 hours, you'll definitely find me holding down the fort at gate E15. Alone and sans frothy beverage in the off chance that somehow my gate has changed, I've been bumped from the flight due to my heavy bag, etc...
Lastly, I can tell that I am no jet setter based on my traveling attire. Again, I wish I was a fashionable frequent flier who loved to rock boots, belts, and blazers in order to look my very best while flying, but again, it's a no go. I don't want to have to be the women frantically running from concourse 1 to 2 in 3 inch heels, nor do I want to disrobe before entering the security line. Flats, no belt, etc...is how this chick rolls her suitcase to and fro. Thank God I am not a celebrity or I'd forever be the slouchy celeb wearing jeans, flops and a v-neck T in LAX via US Weekly.
Maybe my 2011 resolution should be to work on my traveling techniques and jet setter attitude. If not, I'll see you at gate E15 in '11 with my burger. Text me if you want me to grab you one too;)
If you're anything like me, your travel begins with a list of what you need and what you might need. Why does my might list always weigh 20 lbs more than my need list? Do I really need 12 outfit options for a 4 day trip? Probably not. 5 pairs of shoes for a long weekend? Survey says...nope. Do I really need a sleeping mask, sleepy time pills and a travel size fan just in case I cannot sleep while in the hotel? Still guessing no, BUT what if I get there, I need them, and I left them at home? The sheer possibility of these questions and mights is why my suitcase weighs more than someone who is trying to smuggle a small child into the country (which by the way, I am not, if you are airport security and read this post. Thanks).
So now that I've conquered packing, it's on to the airport. Although I wish I was the type of person who can pull up a stool in an airport restaurant or grab a beverage at Harry Carey's while waiting for my flight. Again, sadly, it's a no go for this gal. I'm more of the grab a burger and fries at McD's and anxiously await any flight announcements at the gate. Even if the lay-over is 2.5 hours, you'll definitely find me holding down the fort at gate E15. Alone and sans frothy beverage in the off chance that somehow my gate has changed, I've been bumped from the flight due to my heavy bag, etc...
Lastly, I can tell that I am no jet setter based on my traveling attire. Again, I wish I was a fashionable frequent flier who loved to rock boots, belts, and blazers in order to look my very best while flying, but again, it's a no go. I don't want to have to be the women frantically running from concourse 1 to 2 in 3 inch heels, nor do I want to disrobe before entering the security line. Flats, no belt, etc...is how this chick rolls her suitcase to and fro. Thank God I am not a celebrity or I'd forever be the slouchy celeb wearing jeans, flops and a v-neck T in LAX via US Weekly.
Maybe my 2011 resolution should be to work on my traveling techniques and jet setter attitude. If not, I'll see you at gate E15 in '11 with my burger. Text me if you want me to grab you one too;)
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