There once was a boy…

…and he kind of “made my world” in college. He was funny and cute and talented, and for so long I held him up as the impossible standard to which all future boyfriends had to live up to. He was “The One” (*trumpets* *fanfare*)…until, of course, he wasn’t. Then he became “That Guy”—the one whose characteristics defined everything that a future boyfriend wasn’t, the source of all the lingering issues I had with myself and men in general. Now he’s just “I Wonder If They’re Pregnant Again” Guy, but I digress.

So when did “The One” turn into “That Guy”? Well, it started at a train station in Milan, and was official somewhere between Munich and Bavaria…

In the year after 9/11, The One was living abroad while I was finishing up my time at The University of Scholastic Regrets. We decided that his living situation was the perfect opportunity for the both of us to do a little traveling, so we planned to meet in Milan and spend several weeks traveling around Italy and Germany. The first part of our trip was a blast…I had just finished taking a class about the foundations of Ancient Europe, and around every twist and turn sprang a fountain, a sculpture, or a building that stood as testimony to the history I had studied for the last 3 months. Then, in Rome, the frustration started to set in:

ESSAYTCH: Wow, Trevi Fountain!
THE ONE (bored): Hurray, another fountain.
ESSAYTCH (incredulously): This just isn’t any old fountain! The Roman aqueduct system was one of many technological advances that set the Romans apart from the rest of the Byzantine world…building elaborate and ornate fountains at the endpoint of the aqueducts that brought fresh water into the city was a symbol of Roman power. This is COOL, man!
THE ONE: Wow, did you see that motorcycle?!?!?! AWESOME!!

Ok, so maybe I started to sound a little like Rick Steves. But nonetheless, it became obvious that the rich culture and living history that surrounded us was of more interest to me than it was to him…and this was unbelievable to me! I wanted to shake him a little and say “Do you like running water?! Do you appreciate not having to draw water from a polluted well or a river that also serves as your sewer?!?! Then thank the Romans, you dummy!!!” The One was starting to lose points in the “Cultural History” department. (This became shockingly apparent on our one day in Munich, when I took a day trip to Dachau while he toured an automobile manufacturing plant. Hmmmm…)

The “Cultural History” department wasn’t the only one he was rapidly losing points in. His performance in the “Don’t Be An Asshole” department was abysmal, but hey: who doesn’t love a guy that can have you crying into your wiener schnitzel in the middle of a German hofbrauhaus?

THE ONE:You know what I love about you, Essaytch? You always eat everything on your plate.
ESSAYTCH: Ummm…are you saying I eat too much?
THE ONE: No…uh…I mean, there’s no food you don’t like. You’ll eat anything!
ESSAYTCH: What?!?
THE ONE: That’s not to say you are chubby or anything…I’m just saying you’re not afraid to try new things. And even if you don’t like it, you’ll still eat it. You’re not picky.
HELGA THE WAITRESS: Can I get you somethings more?
ESSAYTCH (with a look that could kill): A body bag?

But the proverbial straw came in a Munich train station, when The One decided he wanted to buy a book to read on the train. He couldn’t remember the last time he had read something for fun (horror!), and wanted advice on what he should buy. The racks of fiction at the newsstand consisted of a diverse selection of Tom Clancy, Michael Crichton, and Nora Roberts novels…and I convinced him that he was most likely to enjoy something by Crichton. The next three hours went a little something like this:

THE ONE(excited): Oh my gosh! Ok, so in this book there is this guy, and he’s a scientist, and he’s figured out a way to make this time machine, except the time machine can only go to this one place in France in the year 1302 and some of the guys he sent got stuck there. So he’s trying to convince these archaeologists to go in the time machine to find them, and he says…(proceeds to read a page of dialogue from the book).
ESSAYTCH (putting down my own engrossing novel to listen to him): Wow, that sounds pretty interesting.
*10 minutes go by*
THE ONE(more excited): Holy crap! Ok, so you know how the guy was trying to convince the archaeologists to go in the time machine? Listen to this! (again, two more pages of dialogue read out loud)
ESSAYTCH(getting annoyed but trying to hide it): See, I knew you would like the book!
*10 more minutes go by*
THE ONE(beside himself with glee): You’re not going to believe this! Ok, so the guy…
ESSAYTCH (interrupting): You know, I think I’ll read it when you are done. I wouldn’t want you to spoil the plot!
THE ONE:Oh, ok. You’re going to love it!
ESSAYTCH: I’m sure I will…

So while it seemed he was losing points in the “Cultural History” and “Don’t Be An Asshole” departments, he was more than making up for it in the “Me Tarzan; You Jane” department. You’d have thought he had never read a novel before in his entire life…or at least one that wasn’t part of an assignment for school. And for a gal that reads several books a month on average (often at the same time), this just wasn’t going to work out.

By the time I got back to the states, “The One” had become “That Guy”. And as soon as he got back to the states, he bought a leaf blower (“This is seriously the coolest thing EVER!”) and balance was restored to the Universe.

 

Who’s BRILLIANT idea was that?!

As a child, I used to daydream about how cool it would be to be a teenager. Driving a car. Pulling up to the bank and putting my own money in one of those nifty pods that got sucked through a tube into my account (seriously…I thought this was the most awesome thing ever!). Having a job and a boyfriend. Going to High School, to Prom, to football games with my face painted. Then as a teenager, I would daydream about how cool it would be to be an adult. Driving a car that I actually owned myself. Moving to another city to live on my own, with total autonomy from my parents. To be a homeowner, have credit cards, drink at bars, throw dinner parties for my scores of fabulous friends. To fall in love, get married, and start having babies….all by the ripe old age of 25.

Well, here I am at 29…and let’s just say life didn’t exactly turn out to be as “cool” as I’d imagined it:

-That car that I drive? Yeah…I own it. I’ll be making the payments on it for the next 5 years, too. And considering I just payed through the nose to have the engine practically rebuilt, my dreams of having a ‘newer’ car have been flushed down the toilet.

-Total autonomy from my parents? Well, considering I find myself calling them once every few months saying “Uh, Mom? Can I borrow $50?”…I would say total autonomy is a work in progress.

-Credit Cards? Ha ha ha! WHAT credit cards? I made that mistake in college, and fortunately for me, my new credit score prevents me from making that mistake again. And since we’re on the topic…did anyone else miss that day in school where they told you not to screw up your credit score, because you would be Black Listed across the entire universe? Apparently I missed Fiscal Responsibility 101, and now there is no going back.

-Owning a home? Not in THIS lifetime!!! I find it utterly amusing whenever I see adds that say “Brand New Downtown Condos: starting at only $500k!!!”, and when you look at the fine print, you see that $500k buys you a 600 square foot studio over a night club with a view of the dumpster in the back alley. No thanks…I’ll keep dumping my money into something I’m not permanently stuck with.

-Throwing dinner parties for my scores of fabulous friends? Ok, the dinner parties we do every once in a while, and they are fun. It’s the before and after parts that are a bummer in my opinion (read: cleaning up before the guests arrive and again after they leave). And the fabulous friends part is tricky: while they are fabulous, they do not number in ’scores’.

-Falling in love, getting married, and having babies…by 25?!?!?!! Ok, WHO came up with the idea that everyone has to get married straight out of college? And immediately start having babies, for that matter? Whenever we see those former friends of ours from college who chose that route, Roomie and I shoot each other a look that says “Thank GOD that’s not us!”. They just look so TIRED and wiped out…and generally, there’s this look in their eyes which I recognize as more than a little bit of envy of us still-single folks.

All this to say, my mind is boggled about where these BRILLIANT ideas came from in the first place. And despite all the statistics that say otherwise, why is the idea that you have to get married in your early 20s or there is something wrong with you still holding sway over our culture? Why is my mother so worried about the fact that I’m not dating a new guy every few months, auditioning potential husbands as it were?

Bottom line: I thank God every day that I didn’t marry the guy I thought I was ’supposed’ to marry; I’m grateful that I’m well traveled; I’m glad that I like who I am, and am not too worried about finding someone who will like me too; I’m glad I’m not in credit card debt up to my eyeballs, that I don’t have a house with a busted toilet that I can’t fix…and I’m forever grateful that I’m an independent woman who can stand on her own two feet, making her own decisions about what life at 30 and beyond should look like.

NEWSFLASH: I Don’t Hate Homeless People!

Here at Fabulous New Job, I get to go on a date with my fellow admins every day. Mid-morning each day, we pause from our hectic schedules and gather together to chat about how things are going, share tips and stories, encourage one another, and talk about our corporate culture and how it impacts the way we do our job each day. Some people find this 15 minutes a waste of time…personally, I think it is a fun break from the morning rush and I enjoy it.

Last week, we were discussing our values–where you get them and how they impact the decisions you make on a daily basis–and I decided to share a little story from my formative teenage years:

As part of my Catholic School education, we were required to take a variety of different religion classes in addition to the normal reading, writing, math drivel that is shoved down every high school kid’s throats. One of the requirements for every Junior was a class called “Society and Justice”, in which we learned about the many plights of people less fortunate than us, and how we as good stewards of the Earth and our fellow man could make a difference in the lives of those we were studying. All in all, this class was very well intentioned, and is one that I wish more high-schools would offer to their students ( sans the religious twist, obviously).

At one point in the curriculum, we focused on homelessness. In the course of our studies, we discovered there are many causes to homelessness other  than just being a druggie or a boozer: mental illness, lack of a familial support system, being out of work, all can contribute to the cycle of homelessness that ensnares so many in America. Our teacher decided to bring in a guest speaker, a homeless man whom he met and developed a friendship with during his time volunteering at one of the soup kitchens downtown. Having had virtually no exposure to the homeless, and being the young and malleable teenager that I was, I was desperate to be told what to think, how to feel, and the appropriate way to respond with empathy to panhandlers I might see downtown or at the corner of a freeway on-ramp. Our guest speaker, I was sure, would provide the insight I was seeking. It didn’t exactly go that way.

Instead of putting a face to the numerous causes of homelessness I had studied, Mr. Homeless Joe Guestspeaker took better part of an hour to tell us how he became homeless because his good-for-nothing ex-wife took the kids and headed to California, leaving him behind with nothing. He described how he found he could make more money (tax free, I might add) panhandling every day than he ever could with a real job, how he remained homeless because he found he really liked camping, and was satisfied with his free-ride lifestyle. So much for empathy.

For years afterwards, my heart was hardened. Every time I would see someone holding a sign begging for work or food, I would think to myself (as I rolled up my windows and locked my doors): “I’ll bet that guy just likes CAMPING.” Needless to say, now that I’m an adult and have a better understanding of the world, my heart has softened…but I’m not so sure the rest of my admins are convinced.

After sharing my story, there was a barage of “Maybe he said he liked camping because he didn’t want to face the truth” and “Not all homelss people have that kind of attitude” responses. And I was left thinking, “Uh, I know that.” You see, my point in sharing the story was that sometimes, especially when you’re younger, people try to instill you with specific values, ways of thinking, or ideals. And often times, it can backfire (as in my case). It was only after growing up and experiencing the world on my own that I was able to really understand and come to adopt the values that my teacher was trying to communicate so many years ago. But apparently, they didn’t see my point. So I felt like an asshole.

After our little session, one of my new admin friends came up to me and said “By the way, I totally got that you don’t hate homeless people.” Thank god SOMEONE heard what I was saying. I think next time I share a story with the group, I will make sure to preface it clearly with “By the way, I don’t hate homeless people.”

 

 

Event Horizon: My journey into Sci-Fi Geekdom…Part Deux

Told you I would need to start a series! Here’s today’s entry, a little IM conversation between Roomie and I about my recent addiction obsession love of Stargate Atlantis:

Essaytch says:

Ok, I am a N-E-R-D

Essaytch says:

I’m reading Joe’s blog and I noticed this guy posted a comment….

Essaytch says:

He was responding to another person’s comment where they made a reference to “PG”

Essaytch says:

And this guy was all ” ‘PG’ being what?”

Essaytch says:

And my immediate response was to roll my eyes and say to myself “Pegasus Galaxy. Duh.”

  Roomie says:

OH

  Roomie says:

MY

  Roomie says:

GOSH

  Roomie says:

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

  Roomie says:

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

  Roomie says:

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Essaytch says:

Told you

Essaytch says:

N

Essaytch says:

E

Essaytch says:

R

Essaytch says:

D

Essaytch says:

You’re going to get sucked in too, I can feel it.

Essaytch says:

And then you’re going to be all “I don’t understand why everyone is so hung up on Sheppard. I mean, McKay is the one who’s REALLY saving everyone’s asses all the time.”

  Roomie says:

uh

  Roomie says:

not that sucked in!

 Essaytch says:

And then I’m gonna say: “But what about Beckett? Why did they have to go and kill him off?!”

 Essaytch says:

And you’ll be all: “That ninny Scottish dude? Nah! The new doctor is much better.”

 Essaytch says:

And then we will come to blows.

 Roomie says:

lol

 Roomie says:

Suuuuure!

 Essaytch says:

Ok, I’m cracking myself up here. Time to go home.

Someone commit me. Or stick me on the first Space Shuttle to the moon…or any other distant planet. But preferably one in THIS solar system…the Wraith are still FAR TOO BIG of a threat out in Pegasus.

 

“When it’s all over…I’ll come back for another year”

Ok, I’ll admit. I’ve been distant. There I said it. It’s just that things have been so crazy busy and…well, I’m not one for excuses. So, no need to point out that I’ve been a sorry excuse for a blogger these past weeks. I’m here now, let’s just move on…

It’s Saturday night, and I have the condo all to myself, a novelty these days. The roomies are out of town visiting family until the 3^rd, so it’s just me and the cat holding down the fort…and I’ll admit, I’m digging the solitude. For a gal who lived alone for years, and now shares a place with 2 other people PLUS a menagerie of pets, I can’t remember the last time I was alone with no distractions. It got me thinking about all the things that have happened to me this year…I almost didn’t realize it, like not being able to see the forest for the trees, but 2007 was a HUGE year for me, full of changes, revelations, break-throughs, laughter, tears…you name it, it happened.

If you’ve ever heard the expression (and I’m so paraphrasing here) “When one door closes, someone opens a window”, that was definitely my experience in 2007. I was closing doors left and right that had been stuck open for YEARS letting all the good stuff escape and letting all the bad shit in. I closed the door on bad men and crappy relationships that had been plaguing me since college. I closed the door on being a loner, holed up like a recluse in my apartment with only Pippin for company. I closed the door on all the negative thoughts and demons that told me time and time again that I wasn’t good enough or smart enough to have the job and the life that I really wanted, that I really deserved. And, lo and behold, those proverbial windows started opening!

There are no new men in my life to speak of , but I’ve come to the realization that the good ones, if indeed there are any left out there, are worth the wait. And truth be told, if we were to cross paths any time soon, I’m not quite sure I’d be ready for you yet! Like I mentioned earlier, I ceased being a loner when I moved back in with 2 of the best gals in Seattle, whom I lived with back in college and who probably know me better than most. They have been instrumental in encouraging me to rediscover myself, to say “Poo poo!” to all the haters out there, and to pursue life tenaciously instead of waiting for life to come looking for me. And finally, I found the courage and the self-confidence to go after a job with a company that would truly appreciate (and compensate!) all I have to offer, whom I could invest in, and who would invest in me in return.

Strangely enough, on a lonely summer night this past June, I sat in my apartment listening to music, Andrew McMahon’s melodies shooting like arrows straight into my soul and hitting the bull’s-eye every time. And on this lonely winter night, just like so many months (that seem like years) ago, I sit at my computer with Jack’s Mannequin playing, and Andrew is once again shooting arrows at my heart: “Finally, I’m letting go of all my downer thoughts. In no time there’ll be one less sad robot looking for a chance to be something more than just metal…”

So, in light of all the changes in 2007, I think I can safely say that 2008 is going to effing ROCK! I generally hate new years resolutions, but in anticipation of Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Years (which I will be spending alone, no biggie) and the big ball drop just a few days from now, I thought I‘d be a good sport and let you all in on a few goals of mine for the new year: 2008 is going to be the Year of the Blog (weeks will not pass between posts, I promise); our kitchen WILL STAY CLEAN(er); yoga and meditation is in my future (as is the sci-fi/fantasy book club at EBBC again); I will get my oil changed more often; I will figure out how to work the heat in our condo, cause I’m freezing; I will move more, in the hopes of swimming in my clothes by June; I will watch less TV, which will be hard once the writer’s stike ends; and finally, The Evolution of Me will continue…I’ll carry on pursuing the best possible version of me, and I promise to take you with me! Enjoy the ride…

A Rude Awakening…

One of the nice things about living in the Northwest is that, for the most part, within only a couple of hours, you can drive almost any kind of vacation destination you could desire: to the mountains to go skiing, to the ocean (or lake) to go sailing, to take a hike through the Olympic Rain Forest, or to another country to run from the law or obtain illegal prescription medication. For me, one of the appeals is that I’m far enough away from my family to feel like an independent adult, but close enough that I can still go visit at the drop of a hat. The 192 mile drive from Seattle to Portland takes about 3.5 hours and is one that I make several times a year. It’s a tedious trip at times, made bearable by plugging in the Zune and singing along at the top of my lungs. In fact, in just a few weeks, I will be driving home to Portland to spend Christmas with my family.

 

This year’s commute will be no different than other years: the Zune will be plugged in with a myriad of newly-downloaded music to sing along to, the trunk will be packed with gifts ready to be wrapped w/ my mother’s wrapping paper upon arrival, and Pippin will be jumping back and forth between the back seat and the front. But this year, about halfway through the trip, the harsh reality of a not-so-Merry Christmas will set in.

 

Most times, it seems the “rainy season” doesn’t really kick in around Western Washington until January or February. But both last Christmas time and now again this year, we’ve experienced some pretty major storms. (Someone call Al & Leo with the Global Warming Police!!!!) And along with the major storms, came some pretty major flooding. So bad, in fact, that Washington Election Thief Governor, Christine Gregoire, has declared a State of Emergency, and certain parts of Western Washington are being considered “disaster areas”.

 

To put in perspective, here’s an aerial photo of a stretch of I5 passing through Chehalis, Washington:

 

As you can see, flooding was so bad in this area, they had to shut down the highway! And I5 is the only major artery through Western Washington to Western Oregon. Only one detour was suggested, for those that simply had to drive from Seattle to Portland while the highway was closed: drive 143 miles through a snowy mountain pass to Yakima, WA., and from there, drive an additional 185 miles through the windy Columbia River Gorge to Portland. A 6 hour, one way trip!!!!

 

Despite the fact that our Condo is situated right on the Sammamish River Slough, we really weren’t in any danger of flooding. But what brought the disaster home for me was when I saw this picture:

During every trip north or south to visit the family, I stop at this exit to get gas, take a potty break, and get coffee. I can’t even make out where the gas station IS in this photo. Seeing this definitely put things into perspective for me. While (other than my pit stop needs) I remained virtually un-affected by the flood waters, there are many in our region suffering innumerable losses. This Christmas, as I rush around trying to find appropriate gifts to give my family, gifts that will communicate my love and appreciation for them year round, I think of the local flood victims for whom basic necessities are denied them this season. The desire to give has arisen in me, and while I don’t like to give financial contributions, I’m determined to discover a donation center where basic needs can be dropped off for distribution amongst those most affected.

 

Let’s all do our best this season to acknowledge the blessings we take for granted, give an extra hug to those we love that are safe, sound and healthy, and find a way to spread the joy of Christmas to those desperate for the Kindness of Strangers.

 

P.S…on a COMPLETELY insensitive note, I have discovered the snacks drawers at work. I have hit the mother-load)

S.O.A.P: so fresh and so clean

I often describe myself as a reformed “Jesus Freak”, which sounds incredibly disparaging, and I don’t mean for it to. There once was a time (from 1997-2006) when I attended church more than once a week, sang in a praise band, daily read one of many copies of The Bible that I own, and meditated often on my relationship with God. I haven’t set foot in a church in a year and a half (the reason why is a topic for another post altogether), I haven’t opened a Bible in equally as long, nor have I raised my voice in praise. I feel incredibly different from the girl I was then: I’ve grown, changed, evolved (this is The Evolution of Me, after all!). So I was surprised when, during a frantic search for my passport the other night, my S.O.A.P journal from early 2006 surfaced…and proved to me that while I may have grown and evolved, my relationship with Him is steadfast and unchanging.

While I’ve never been great at consistent journaling (not for lack of trying!), a S.O.A.P journal was a concept that I could really get behind back then. It takes maybe 15 minutes out of your day, but it can be incredibly profound and revealing. S.O.A.P stands for “Scripture, Observation, Application, Prayer”, and is a method of critically reading and applying scripture to your daily life. How it works: read a small section of Scripture (usually 1 chapter from a book of the Bible), choose one or two verses that particularly stick out to you from that selection, and write them down. Next, write down your Observation from those verses. Then, think of how it Applies to your life and write that down. Finally, write down your Prayer in response to what you’ve read.  What follows is my S.O.A.P entry from February 16, 2006:

SCRIPTURE:
The Gospel of Mark 1:16-18  One day, as Jesus was walking along the shores of the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother, Andrew, fishing with a net, for they were commercial fishermen. Jesus called out to them, “Come, be my disciples, and I will show you how to fish for people!” And they left their nets at once and went with him.

OBSERVATION:
Simon and Andrew are commercial fishermen…this is their job, what they do day in and day out to provide for their families. And they immediately (at once) dropped everything and followed Jesus upon His command. They didn’t ask “Why?”. They didn’t worry about making arrangements, or putting in their two weeks notice. They dropped everything where it was and obeyed Jesus’ word.

APPLICATION:
God doesn’t approach us at a time that is convenient for us. He comes in His timing…and all He cares about is our obedience! We needn’t worry ourselves with tying up the loose ends before following Him. If God was worried about them, He would have come at a different time. But God’s timing is perfect, so we should have that much more confidence in our obedience to Him.

PRAYER:
Lord, help me to remember it is my obedience you desire, not my help. God, in my simple obedience to you, remind me that I need to lay aside what I am currently doing and join you in what you are doing*. Help me to remain confident and assured that I will not only be filled with the desire to be obedient, but that You are one who will enable me to actually do it. God, you are present in the details.
*note: How is my inability to act immediately in obedience to the Lord getting in the way of his will for my life? How am I keeping God from blessing me today?

Now, I’ll admit that from where I stand, life seems pretty sweet: new job, great friends, fab place to live. And yet, this S.O.A.P redirected my mind a bit and reminded me how important it is to take a step back and evaluate things from a fresh and clean angle. In what ways am I standing in the way of my own success? How is my desire to be “helpful” and “do it myself” getting in the way of what God wants to do for me? He wants me to be free, to have all manner of good things. How am I keeping Him from blessing me today?

Oprah Winfrey…thoroughly aMUSEing!

I wrote earlier today that I am currently without inspiration and creativity when it comes to new content for my blog. I am in search of my Muse, and tonight I am excited to say I may have caught a glimpse of her (him…it…what is a muse, anyway?). My Muse, I came to discover, is much like me: often times serious, thoughtful and introspective, but mostly just hilarious and nerdy. Tonight, strangely enough, my Muse drifted across the airwaves and into my living room in the guise of Oprah Winfrey.

Recently, I read a post from one of my favorite bloggers about how readily information is available on the Internet. I too am surprised every day by the enormous amount of useless information one can find just floating around in the World Wide Web. And, believe it or not, someone out there wants that information, is looking for that information…dare I say needs that information (for what purpose, I don’t know). Well, this evening, I would submit to my blog pal that not only is random and often useless information found in abundance on the Internet, but you can also stumble across it while innocently watching Oprah*. Tonight I watched a repeat of the Oprah show featuring her favorite doctor pal, Dr. Oz. He’s an incredibly brilliant man, lovingly dedicated to educating the public on all things health related, which is really and truly great…but he always manages to cross the line. The line he crossed tonight? The Panty Line. That’s right…Dr. Oz went below the belt, and it was hilarious and disturbing all at the same time. Let me explain:

As a woman, I am very aware of the fact that there is an “air of mystery” that surrounds my sex. We women are alluring, complicated, tantilizing creatures of beauty and intrigue, and quite frankly, you dudes out there like it that way. Just when you think you’ve got us all figured out, we throw you for a loop, change directions suddenly…and you can admit it, guys: it adds to the thrill of the chase. Let’s face it, deep down under all the flirty games and the teasing and the taunting, us ladies want to be caught, and men are more than happy to oblige. Once captured, the awe-inspiring beauty of the female body waits, ready to be explored. Are you picturing it, gentlemen? There with me?

Now, let’s let Dr. Oz and Oprah in on the action. How would they describe it? Well, Oprah calls it her “Va-jay-jay” and Dr. Oz described it as “A Self-Cleaning Oven”. EXCUSE ME?! I’m sorry, but I’ve seen The Vagina Monologues and I’m pretty sure there wasn’t one entitled “My Crotch is a Self-Cleaning Oven.” Thanks, Dr. Oz. You’ve officially destroyed the mood. Hot & heavy couples everywhere will forever curse your name when thoughts of the Maytag Man or the sales guy at the Best Buy drift into their head during a make-out session.

“Self-Cleaning Oven”…really?! What ever happened to “Sacred Flower”? Sheesh.

**What follows is only ONE example of the useless, random, and unsolicited info I received while watching this program. So, you see? You can find random info ANYWHERE!

Ch-Ch-Changes…

Happy Monday! Well, ok not-so-happy Monday. When it rains, it pours here in Seattle…and I do mean that literally. I know in a previous post, I alluded to the fact that it really doesn’t rain all that much here in the Pacific Northwest. And I still maintain that it does not, in fact, rain to the extent that people think it does. HOWEVER when it does rain, it fruckin’ DUMPS. And when it does, people’s brains around here become water-logged and they forget how to drive. My average speed during this morning’s commute was about 25 miles per hour…took me over an hour. Pissy. 

Anyway…this post is to advise about a couple of changes here at the old blog. First and foremost, you may have noticed a change in the layout/format of the site. The hurricane has blown over, and while I still consider this blog a chronicle on The Evolution of Me, I thought a happier theme better reflected my frame of mind these days (hurray!). Secondly, I have added a few more pages worth noting: one for if you feel the deep urge to contact me via email (don’t spam me, I will kick your ass), and the other includes a little extra info about me…you know, the really important stuff you’ve just been dying to know. It was inspired by a couple other blog friends of mine who did the same thing: one whom I know (and she’s as awesome as she sounds), and one whom I don’t know (but I really wish I did cause he frickin’ rocks). 

For reasons unknown, I’ve hit a bit of a writers block the past few days. I’m feeling very un-funny, un-interesting, and un-motivated to get un-un-inspired—did that make sense? So, I apologize in advance if new posts are a little scarce this week. If you read anything in my Top 100 that you want to know more about, let me know…perhaps that will inspire a new post! 

Till then…I’m off to find my muse!

Jesus Yoga

Yoga. I want to do Yoga. And meditation, maybe.

Can a person practice yoga and meditation if they also claim to love Jesus? Can I really claim to love Him if I do not spend my life actively seeking to find him? I know Him, that’s for sure. And I know His enemy. My enemy. But I do not worship, I do not pray, I do not sing His praises nor seek to invite Him into my life any longer. Does that mean I’ve “lost my faith”? Is it my duty to actively seek to find it again? It’s not that I don’t believe it any more. It just…isn’t me anymore. It’s ironic, I think, that all the time I spent seeking him, I completely lost ME! I always thought that drawing closer to Him was supposed to consequently reveal His purpose for my life, in accordance with His will. Quite the opposite has happened, I’m afraid.

All I know is that I have a strong desire to be still, to reconnect with myself. I want to do Yoga.