Friday, October 31, 2008

everything we have is all we need.

i want to be held.
i want to be kissed.
my last, first kiss.
that seems impossibly far away.
and i feel guilty for wanting it so badly.

the right stuff. all the wrong reasons.

[you and your girls are goin out tonight. y'all been plannin this all week riiight?]
put seven friends in a suite at the bobcat's arena. add:
spritzers and chips & salsa.
joey mcintyre (all grown up) in a vest.
and synchronized dance steps.
a deadly combination. single girls should read the warning label. (not to mention the lady gaga pregame. hot n heavy. holy crap)but despite my previous scepticism, NKOTB claims the high honor as one of the best shows i have ever seen. seriously. who knew.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

and if i told you i loved you, would it change what you see?

in honor of my favorite month. november. blue.

be here now.

Ray LaMontagne is on to something.

get loose everybody cause we're gonna do our thing.

i am not dressing up for halloween. i am actually spending my night working someone else's party. which should be fairly entertaining. but no where near the entertainment and fun that will be had this evening. kelly is treating us girls to a night with NKOTB. for all of you youngins', that spells The New Kids on the Block. which is scary in an entirely different way. tonight we are rockin' it old school.
cause you know it ain't over till the fat lady sings...

a paradise of brightness changes to awful shuddering depths of night.

everyone's a comedian.

my aunt and uncle. mavericks.
happy halloween.

SNL might not be funny anymore, but andy samberg is.


the best look in the world.
iran so far
lazy sunday

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

it's not easy sometimes. they build these walls ever higher and hide behind them. seems an odd way to try and make things right.

i watched jeff play with the marley dog last night. he stood over him, talking in an even tone. marley's tail wagged faster with each question posed, sweeping across the hardwood floor. it was adorable. the marley dog is adorable. he has been such a joy in my life. a constant companion. no one will ever be as excited to see you as your dog. he thinks i'm awesome.

i have recently been presented with the opportunity to live and work in telluride, colorado. a dream come true. my favorite place in all my summer travels. the most dog friendly town i have been thus far. puppy parking? seriously. and yet, i am having difficulty securing housing that will allow his presence. i'm having difficulty finding housing period. there are a lot of options. most being ridiculously out of my price range. $2500/month. this is, after all, a ski resort town. i'll be shoosh-ing down the slopes with the hollywood elite. although it will probably be difficult to recognize a celebrity dressed head-to-toe in fleece and polypropylene. even if it it is from marc jacobs winter collection.

i have a roommate. or the potential for a roommate. my boss introduced us. we have not met in person. his name is dennis. he's a boy. he's twenty-four. these two things present a problem right off the bat. i already know he's outdoorsy and adventurous. if he's nerdy, i am in trouble. my weakness. and i sense that being far from home, cold and lonely, this combination may create a problem. i told the girls about my situation. i didn't want to. i didn't want to tell them because i thought they would tell me not to go. that it sounded like a bad situation. this is precisely why i told them. i make poor decisions for myself. i know what is right and wrong, and i repeatedly watch myself make the wrong choice. i need accountability. i need to be held responsible. i need to take better care of myself. better care of my heart.

i have been back in charlotte for a month and a half. i am still sleeping comfortably in the boys' bonus room. when i am not camped out in the back yard. and they have been indescribably generous with their time and space. i am so grateful for their hospitality. it has made this unsettled transition so enjoyable. but i am sure they are anxious to have their home back. to be back to the bachelor pad that it was previously. free of the silly girl who alphabetizes the dvd collection and boycotts reality television. taking up space on the couch and taking over the bathroom. thanks for putting up with my antics.

i will have lived in charlotte for two years, next month. mid november. minus my three month hiatus. i never thought i would live here. i never wanted to live here. i hated charlotte. the fake city. no skyline. not my scene, i couldn't figure out why all my friends had migrated here. for what? i moved to charlotte because i was told to. i firmly believe god put me here. i would have never chosen this for myself. but he orchestrated it flawlessly. almost effortlessly. go until i can't go anymore. until the doors begin to close. if i am unsure of my direction this is the path i walk. forward. until the lord says no. it's up to me whether i obey or make things difficult. pick my own way. you would think i would know better by now. i don't.

perhaps charlotte is my desert. pam posed this question, monday night. i am here for a reason. and it's hard. and i have spent a long time fighting it and trying to escape instead of relaxing into the work the lord has for me. to do on me. i have no where to live. no job. i am trying to fill in all the missing pieces. i thought telluride was it. go until the doors close. i don't want to leave marley dog behind. he is my heart. my child. i would miss out on his antics. his cuddly furry body thrown down beside me. nuzzling my arm to get me to pet him. the other two people dennis and i were planning on living with are skeptical about living in the place we found. about living with me, too, apparently. nervous that we haven't even met. and i understand that. but there isn't much i can do to resolve the situation.

i don't know what i am supposed to do. i am not stressed. or even disappointed. i can't explain the feeling in my heart. i want so desperately to make the right decision. i want to be where i am supposed to be. i just don't know where that is. and i feel like i'm running out of time.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

the things we chase in this world are opposite from god’s love.

i doubt god daily. my earthly, human experiences have wounded and jaded my heart. and yet i can not deny the presence of the lord in my life. and it makes me feel ungrateful and ignorant. i want to believe. to live in it. to just know it with every breath. i will never leave you or forsake you.
but i turn my back when things get hard. when i am asked to hold on. i am strong, but i give up. and i chase after all the wrong things. false flattery has me on my face. i stumble and fall again and again. but nothing can pry me from his grasp. i know this in theory. but i don't live it. i am ashamed.

and as usual god shows up. just what i was talking about last night. teach me to protect my heart. thank you, amanda for sharing your devotional. i heart you.

[as seen on amanda philips blog]

Devotion:
A few years ago, I sat with a beautiful young woman and watched the tears stream down her face. Six months before our meeting, her world was filled with so much – a loving husband, a healthy toddler, and fun friends.

Life was full. But some part of her heart still felt restless, unsettled, and a little empty.

She started to feel detached from her husband and disappointed in their relationship. Why couldn’t he make her feel loved? Wasn’t he supposed to right her wrongs, fill up her insecurities, and give her a lasting feeling of love?

Then one day she met a man who said things she’d longed to hear her husband say. He made her feel pretty and witty. Soon, she rationalized that she’d never really loved her husband in the first place. A web of lies was spun. She fell into the arms of the other man.

She had not wanted to come to the women’s retreat. She knew it might make her feel guilty and she was past having any guilty feelings. She was just waiting for the right time to leave her husband and start over with the new love of her life. But her friends had started to grow suspicious of her pulling back from so many church activities. So, to appease them, she went.

Over the course of the weekend, the walls she’d so carefully constructed to keep everyone at a distance and her secret safe started to crumble. By Saturday night, she sat down with me and confessed her affair. She desperately wanted to know how I felt so full of God’s love. She was now convinced it wasn’t the love of another man her heart craved; it was the love of God.

Chasing love outside the will of God invites the exact opposite of love into our lives. 1 Corinthians 13: 4-8 is picture of God’s perfect love. It is patient. It is kind. It does not envy… it is not self-seeking… it does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth… it always protects… it always perseveres. Love never fails. The things we chase in this world are opposite from God’s love. False attempts at love will make us impatient, unkind, envious, self-seeking, resistant to the truth, reckless and temporary.

1 Corinthians 13 is not a description of what is inherently ours when we fall in love with another person. It is a description of God’s love. This kind of love can be ours as we become more Christ-like. It is never focused inwardly. It is never about what I’m going to get from another person. It is deciding that this is the kind of love I will give away.

I am challenged by this. Because our souls were designed for God’s fulfilling love, if we aren’t staying closely connected to Him everyday, our hearts will start to feel empty. Restless. Unfulfilled.

Let us never get to the place where we think we are strong enough to not be tempted in this way. If we are all completely honest, we are only a few bad decisions away from the same kind of mess my sweet friend is now trying to untangle herself from. While I have complete hope in God’s ability to restore her, the consequences of her chase for love will be severe on many levels.

The kind of love our souls crave will never be found in the things of this world. Lasting and perfectly satisfying love will only be found when we stop chasing the wrong kind of love and start living out the truths of God.



Dear Lord, help me rest in the security of Your love. Make me wise in how I guard my heart. May I never get lured into any kind of worldly, fake love. But if I ever start to get drawn away, God surround me with people who are bold enough to speak truth into my life. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

[speaking to my heart. all the things i couldn't quite articulate last night.]

Monday, October 27, 2008

love god. just be. this IS the adventure.

1. not to be placated or appeased or moved by entreaty.
2. never-ceasing.
3. steady and persistent; unremitting.

i read this word today. a pain shot through my chest. my heart lept.
relentless.
unfailing.
steadfast.
crazy love.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

to hell you ride.

John Fallon made the first claim in Marshal Basin above Telluride in 1875 and early settlement of Telluride followed. The town itself was founded in 1878. Telluride was originally named "Columbia," but due to confusion with Columbia, California, the name was changed by the post office in 1887. The town was named after the chemical element tellurium, which was never actually found in the mountains of Telluride. Tellurium is a metalloid element sometimes associated with deposits of gold and silver. An alternate theory for the naming of Telluride is that it is a contraction of "to hell you ride".

In 2008, Audrey Mann was offered a position at Elevation Imaging, allowing her to fulfill a dream: to spend the work day on skis. That's right folks. If everything goes as planned I will be living in Telluride, Colorado from late November to early April, taking photographs at the resort. My boss fixed me up with a roommate and Dennis and I are currently scanning the classifieds for a warm, dry place to lay our heads. Fingers crossed.

how many times can I break till I shatter?

lets talk about sex.
it seems to be a popular topic of conversation these days. weddings approaching. movies. television. it seems that who is and isn't having it, will always maintain a steady interest. my best friend is getting married in less than two weeks. i couldn't be more excited for her. but through all the recent fun and festivities, one serious thing has circled back to get me: i hate that i am able to give advice on sex. that i have any personal knowledge, whatsoever. sitting at her bachellorette party and lingere shower, listening to the advice of the married folks, i wished i was clueless. unexperienced. unblemished. i wished i didn't feel dirty. and ashamed. like i'm damaged goods. but all i can do now, is learn from my mistakes.

"all that I feel is the realness I'm faking."
i lost my virginity on thanksgiving. i was twenty-two years old. i guess at that age it's more of a give than a take. i gave myself to someone who didn't love me. because he asked. and because feeling wanted, if only momentarily, seemed better than the burning suction of my heart. the hollow, empty feeling that i was walking around with.

3am. i'm busy in the kitchen. i spent the night making pumpkin pie and prepping the ingredients for our turkey day feast. strung out on cocaine and whip-its. late night baking at its finest. a couple hours rest, then back in action. i was anxious. and scared. my first holiday away from home. except for the fifth grade christmas i spent in los angeles with my dad. i overheard him say he wished he had never brought us, my sister and i. not the best holiday track record.

this year i couldn't go home. i couldn't even think of home without my chest tightening and tears rising to the surface. my sister had tried to kill herself again. for the third time. i bought a cell phone to be on call for my mom. in case of emergency. in case she succeeded. personalized ring tones saved my life. don't panic. thank you chris martin. but i hadn't talked to hillary in months. couldn't face the catatonic mumble on the other end of the line. the random questions. the yelling. the accusations. i have never been more scared or unsure of anything in my life. and it was compounded by the distance and sadness that i was left with when i hung up the phone that afternoon.

my mom called to wish me thanks and giving. i was in the middle of dressing the turkey. i have a picture of me holding it over the sink with its wings stretched out. i look silly. i look happy. maybe that's why they call it yay. she passed the phone to my sister. my hands shook. my body trembled. i have no idea what we talked about. but i survived. pulled myself together and struggled though the day. dinner for my work friends. carmen's first attempt at turkey. so i put it all behind me. theraputic cooking. baking still calms my nerves.

dinner. drinks. dessert. friends. monica, rachel, phoebe, ross, joey and chandler. the annual thanksgiving episode. guest staring brad pitt. my friend wade pulled me aside to ask for a safety pin. and to find out how the conversation with my family went. he kept tabs on me. told me his job was to help me take life less seriously. talking with him made the voices stop. all the negative self-destructive phrases i told myself. reciting them over and over. he made me feel normal. at a time when life felt anything but. i would have done anything to feel that way. or to feel nothing at all. drugs offered a numbness i had never experienced. never felt the need. but when i came back down everything was still waiting for me.

i explained the conversation with my sister. the anxiety it had created. the relief i felt at having a good talk under my belt. a decent talk. that we had talked at all. and we passed his bowl, smoking pot on the front porch. carmen brought me the phone. it was stephanie. she couldn't make it for dessert. i'll never forget the look on carmen's face. the look she gave me when she realized i was smoking. disappointment. not anger. you hope the people you love never look at you like that. too painful to process. i ran. went to the bars with the annabelle's crew. lost myself in the fear and sadness.

i couldn't go home. couldn't face that look. i was embarrassed and ashamed. alone. lonely. too afraid for words. i sat in my car, crying in the parking lot. wade came over to console me. invited me to stay with him. i'd been sleeping over occasionally for the past couple months. nights when i couldn't sleep, i would call him like he asked me to. staying up late listening to music and talking. curled up next to him. warm arms wrapped around me. it's hard not to want that. i crave it still. safe in someone's arms. too cozy on the couch for my own good.

laying next to him, fully dressed, i starred up at the ceiling. through the gauzy curtains, lights from the road traced shadows across the room. he broke the stillness. the uncomfortable silence of my breathing. he asked me for my virginity. literally. in so many words. he knew what he was getting. and i sad yes. feeling obligated because i thought he had been taking such good care of me. and wanting to not feel anything for a little while. wanting to feel wanted. but sex doesn't equal love. although the two are quite often equated. i lay still as he slid my jeans past my hips. my underwear. lowering himself onto me. into me. i don't remember much. i can describe the room in vague details. i can tell you what outfit i had been wearing. that i cried silently to myself. hiding my face in the crook of my arm. and that it didn't hurt. no physical pain. just emotionally scarred.

this is the story i have to tell my children. devoid of any romance or sentiment. this is the baggage i carry into every new relationship. but i have been made pure and new. whole in the love of god. baptized. love and grace. but it doesn't erase the memories. the regret. wishing i had that gift to give my husband. trying not to feel like damaged goods. but i have learned, broken can be extraordinary. i've got to forgive myself. to soften those eyes of disappointment. to love the woman that i have become. all the million little pieces of her.

Saturday, October 25, 2008

oh! pears. oh, my!

[from the creative likes of mr. r.sean gallagher]
more, please.
Oh! Pears: "Singers" at Art Star, Philly 10-18-08

let's drive to the country side, leave behind some green-eyed look-a-likes.

[photo by e.witte]
you would think it was my first day walking. i fell in the creek.brrrrrrrrr.
[photo by a.mann]
[photo by e.witte]
[photo by e.witte]
[photo by a.mann]
[photo by a.mann]
[photo by a.mann]
[photo by e.witte]
[photo by a.mann]
[photo by a.mann]
[photo by e.witte]

yet i know that the goal is to keep me from falling.

one word: goosebumps.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Monday, October 20, 2008

hindsight. it's like foresight without a future.

I've been reading a lot of books lately. Something stimulating to fill my free time. and even when i'm catering there are plenty of moments to squeeze in a few pages. Hurry up and wait. It's strange to be getting paid to do so much standing around. One of my most recent tackles was a text entitled Stumbling on Happiness. If you don't read the book, I think you should at least read the basic gist as follows:

What would you do right now if you learned that you were going to die in ten minutes? Would you race upstairs and light that Marlboro you've been hiding in your sock drawer since the Ford administration? Would you waltz into your boss's office and present him with a detailed description of his personal defects? Would you drive out to that steakhouse near the new mall and order a T-bone, medium rare, with an extra side of the really bad cholesterol? Hard to say, of course, but of all the things you might do in your final ten minutes, it's a pretty safe bet that few of them are things you actually did today. Now, some people will bemoan this fact, wag their fingers in your direction, and tell you sternly that you should live every minute of your life as though it were your last, which only goes to show that some people would spend their final ten minutes giving other people dumb advice. The things we do when we expect our lives to continue are naturally and properly different than the things we might do if we expected them to end abruptly. We go easy on the lard and tobacco, smile dutifully at yet another of our supervisor's witless jokes, read books like this one when we could be wearing paper hats and eating pistachio macaroons in the bathtub, and we do each of these things in the charitable service of the people we will soon become. We treat our future selves as though they were our children, spending most of the hours of most of our days constructing tomorrows that we hope will make them happy. Rather than indulging in whatever strikes our momentary fancy, we take responsibility for the welfare of our future selves, squirreling away portions of our paychecks each month so they can enjoy their retirements on a putting green, jogging and flossing with some regularity so they can avoid coronaries and gum grafts, enduring dirty diapers and mind-numbing repetitions of The Cat in the Hat so that someday they will have fatcheeked grandchildren to bounce on their laps. Even plunking down a dollar at the convenience store is an act of charity intended to ensure that the person we are about to become will enjoy the Twinkie we are paying for now. In fact, just about any time we want something—a promotion, a marriage, an automobile, a cheeseburger—we are expecting that if we get it, then the person who has our fingerprints a second, minute, day, or decade from now will enjoy the world they inherit from us, honoring our sacrifices as they reap the harvest of our shrewd investment decisions and dietary forbearance. Yeah, yeah. Don't hold your breath...

Written by Daniel Gilbert, the Harvard College Professor of Psychology at Harvard University. His research with Tim Wilson on "affective forecasting" investigates how and how well people can make predictions about the emotional impact of future events. Claiming that "the human being is the only animal that thinks about the future." So how do we make decisions now, to insure our future happiness? "Given the over abundance of consultants, role models, gurus, mentors, yentas, and nosy relatives, we might expect people to do quite well when it comes to making life's most important decisions, such as where to live, where to work, and whom to marry. And yet, the average American moves more than six times, changes jobs more than ten times, and marries more than once, which suggests that most of us are making more than a few poor choices. If humanity is a living library of information about what it feels like to do just about anything that can be done, then why do the people with the library cards make so many bad decisions? There are just two possibilities. The first is that a lot of the advice that we receive from others is bad advice that we foolishly accept. The second is that a lot of the advice we receive from others is good advice that we foolishly reject. So which is it? Do we listen too well when others speak, or do we not listen well enough?"

The answer is YES.

"Some of our cultural wisdom about happiness looks suspiciously like a super-replicating false belief. Consider money. If you have ever tried to sell something, then you probably tried to sell it for as much as you possibly could, and other people probably tried to buy it for as little as they possibly could. All the parties involved in the transaction assumed that they would be better off if they ended up with more money rather than less, and this assumption is the bedrock of our economic behavior...Economist and psychologists have spent decades studying the relation between wealth and happiness, and they have generally concluded that wealth increases human happiness when it lifts people out of abject poverty and into the middle class but that it does little to increase happiness thereafter...So once we've earned as much money as we can actually enjoy, we quit working and enjoy it, right? Wrong. People in wealthy countries generally work long and hard to earn more money than they can ever derive pleasure from. This fact puzzles us less than it should. After all a rat can be motivated to run through a maze that has a cheesy reward on it's end, but once the little guy is all topped up, then even the finest Stilton won't get him off his haunches. Once we've eaten our fill of pancakes, more pancakes are not rewarding, hence we stop trying to procure and consume them. But not so, it seems, with money...but...If no one wants to be rich, then we have a significant economic problem, because flourishing economies require that people continually procure and consume one another's goods and services...Hence economies can blossom and grow only if people are deluded into believing that the production of wealth will make them happy...economies thrive when individuals strive, but because individuals will only strive for their own happiness, it is essential that they mistakenly believe that producing and consuming are routes to personal well-being..."

"...Foresight is a fragile talent that often leaves us squinting, straining to see what it would be like to have this, go there, or do that. There is no simple formula for finding happiness. But if our great big brains do not allow us to go surefootedly into our futures, they at least allow us to understand what makes us stumble."

life’s too short anyway, but at least it’s better than average..

in case of emergency: when you find yourself all alone and aching to be held, here are some good autumn tunes. curl up in your coziest covers with a hot cup of tea.

even if there’s no one else, he said, you’ve got to love yourself...climb up over the top. survey the state of the soul. you’ve got to find out for yourself whether or not you’re truly trying. - j. mraz

run my mouth - ra ra riot
blue ridge mountains - fleet foxes
chicago x 12 - rogue wave
don't i hold you - wheat
the funeral - band of horses
lost coastlines - okkervil river
night is the day turned inside out - beulah
skinny love - bon iver
when it rains - tristan prettyman
have you forgotten - red house painters
all the arms around you - halloween, alaska
all the miles - amy millan
song for a friend - jason mraz
a minor incident - badly drawn boy

forever is a while in tomorrows.

if last week was hard core friday, then this weekend belonged to martha stewart. i'm not saying she's not hard core. don't get me wrong, she may well be the macgyver of the craft world. but compared to the tattoos and extreme sports of last weekend, this one was a little soft.

thursday and friday i spent the majority of the day catering. the people i work for are incredibly talented when it comes to taste and presentation, and i think being around all the party planning has put me in quite the domestic mood. as if i need the extra influence. so i spent my friday night baking chocolate chip pumpkin cookies and carving pumpkins. i'm sensing a theme here. i love pumpkin flavored things. pie, cookies, bread, lattes. and after a good run with the marley dog on saturday afternoon i headed over to the wittes' house for the kelly & joel congrats on getting married party. we tried to keep it as unbridal showery as possible. we had a fire pit and grilled burgers and hot dogs. roasted s'mores and bobbed for apples. there was a general theme, of course. when have you ever known us to throw a party that didn't involve some sort of hokey plot. so in honor of the couple gettin' hitched we donned our cowboy boots and hats and sipped beers around the campfire. it was a good excuse to decorate. practice for the holidays. man i love playing hostess. good times. especially the finale. a good round of vacuuming.

the evening was capped off by a uncw reunion. the galloway girls piled into the nut for a late night of chatting and catching up. it's been years since the five of us were all in the same room at the same time. amazing. sunday morning was brisk and wonderful. fall is finally here. i can't wait to make chili and cornbread. and bake. looking up new recipes. yummy.

i hit the trails at the wwc again. this time on foot. i went by myself and figured it best to leave the bike behind when i'm on ny own. i just pictured myself flipping over the handlebars and lying there in the path until another rider happened along. some things are best done in the company of others. but running is me time. i strapped on my ipod and took off on the main trail looping around to pick up the carpet trail. running up and down the hills, jumping over roots, off rocks, the concentration, the music pumping. good afternoon.

marley and i took advantage of the nice fall weather and camped out in the backyard. makes me antsy to get out on the road. the fresh air. the sun rise. i love it. my cold nose poking out of my cozy. down sleeping bag. curled up next to the marley dog. that's a perfect moment to me. i'm gonna hang on to that one.

i'm off to be productive. a contributing member of society. is there such a thing as a professional pumpkin carver?





::pumpkin chocolate chip cookies::
ingredients:
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup light brown sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup canned pumpkin puree
3 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon cloves
(you can substitute ginger, nutmeg and cloves for 1 teaspoon of pumpkin pie spice mix)
2 cups (12oz bag) milk chocolate chips (i recommend ghirardelli whenever possible)

heat oven to 350 degrees F. Spray cookie sheets with nonstick spray or line with parchment paper.

using a mixer, beat the butter until smooth. beat in granulated and brown sugars, a little at a time, until the mixture is smooth and fluffy. beat in eggs one at a time. mix in vanilla and pumpkin puree. in a large bowl combine flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and cloves. beat dry ingredient mixture into batter in thirds. stir in chips. scoop heaping tablespoons on to prepared cookie sheets (allow for spreading room between cookies). bake for 15-20 minutes or until cookies are browned around the edges. remove sheets from oven and let cookies rest for two minutes. remove with a spatula and finish cooling on wire racks.

::rosemary foccacia::
ingredients:
pizza dough (fresh or frozen)
fresh rosemary
extra virgin olive oil
kosher salt
cracked black pepper

i use prepared pizza dough for this recipe. if you would like to make your own, have at it. but i prefer the easy preparation and the awesome result. this is one time where you get something for next to nothing.

heat oven to 400 degrees. lightly flour counter and spread dough into rustic shape. allow it to rest for 5-10 minutes to fluff back up (this creates yummy bubbles in the crust) spread surface, generously with extra virgin olive oil (e.v.o.o. to all you rachel ray fanatics). pull rosemary leaves of the stem and chop coarsely. sprinkle over pizza dough. pinch kosher salt and cracked black pepper over dough. to taste. bake for 20 minutes or until golden brown. snip into pieces with kitchen scissors and serve warm.

table salt, pepper and dried rosemary can be substituted. i just prefer the fresh and the melty quality of kosher salt. enjoy.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

where nothing we've actually seen has been mapped or outlined and we don't recognize the names upon strange signs.

it hit me today, that it is the middle of october. and i have absolutely no idea what i am doing after kelly's wedding. i'm playing the waiting game. waiting for a phone call. catering in the mean time. i hate feeling like i'm not providing. but i feel this overwhelming calm about the place where i am at. like i'm supposed to be here. doing what i'm doing. but i'm so used to running around all willy-nilly, clamped down on any illusion of control, that i barely recognize this girl sitting here. living pay check to pay check. trying to find my direction. what next. i'm waiting.

during my stay in chicago i got it in my head that i wanted to organize some outings while i was back in charlotte. make the most of the surrounding areas. i was thinking, at this point that i wanted to live in portland, oregon. to get away from the corporate cookie cutter, striving and climbing and surround myself with organic, homegrown, hippie folks. to live in a place that encouraged individuality and health. and somewhere in my plans for a vegetable garden and hiking trips to crater lake, i realized that my desires would be better put to use here in a place like charlotte. that it would be best to implement the change in my current surroundings. break out. dare to be different. instead of blending in with everything that is already thriving in portland.

so my idea was for a club, of sorts. a group of women who gather together to celebrate our brokenness. to learn from one another's strengths and to support each other in our weaknesses. based on the idea of community. creating a healthy environment to grow spiritually and physically. organizing outings, hikes, mountain biking, runs, kayaking, etc. and making time to break bread together by cooking nutritious and delicious meals for one another. learning how to care for ourselves and offering up an open environment to ask hard questions and share tough times and triumphs.

i thought about this a lot this summer, actually. climbing in the rockies. but it wasn't until this past weekend that i realized just how great it felt to implement. confidence is such an important aspect of an individuals daily life. it affects the way one interacts with others and how they chose to face the day themselves. finding a place in the physical world, though athletics, has been invaluable to me. and i think it's important to share the joy that comes from conquering a challenge, be it a rapid, hill or mile. and knowing we are not alone in this journey makes all the difference. i don't know what will come of this. i've just been tossing around ideas and need some accountability. i don't know where i am supposed to be. but at the present moment i am addicted to the national white water center. and i plan on heading up to asheville/boone to camp and visit turtle island preserve. if any of you ladies are up for some good conversation and a workout let me know. i would love the company.

love will remain a mystery.

but give me your hand and you will see,
your heart is keeping time with me.

kelstar & joel's wedding : t-minus twenty-five days.

mother nature: getting into god's stride.

i spent my sunday on top of the world. or at least as close as you can get in charlotte, still able to see the emerald city off in the distance. i spent the day with the ladies, hiking and talking. good community. fellowship and conversation. peanut butter & jelly. i made new friends. bonded with old. and discovered new forms of footwear. lauren, i still maintain that you seem like a toe sock kinda girl. apparently i don't know you at all. so sad. we fended off poisonous snakes. scaled the treacherous terrain. and staved off our insane urges to jump off high objects. it was a good day. colorado still holds my heart, but the carolina blue skies will always be a welcome sight.







body of evidence.

exhibit a)
my sister is a very talented artist. she paints, and sings and makes stained glass. she is one of the most creative people i know. but her talents have been locked inside her for the last few years. her hands shake from her medication, making it difficult to steady a brush or hold a guitar cord, and she is too self conscious to sing in front of people. she used to belt out ani difranco lyrics and play in the city. now she wont even play for her cat. it breaks my heart. she painted this fairy for my 19th birthday. i have wanted to make it into a tattoo since the first time i saw it. i just couldn't figure out where or when. after i got my wrist tattoo, last year, i started giving it some serious thought. i bounced from my lower back to my shoulder, finally settling on my left side. increasing in size with each transition. it's gonna hurt and it's gonna be expensive...and yes, i have entirely too much time on my hands.

as you kneel beside your bed tonight, keep a little prayer for me in sight.

they say you have to have somebody. they say you have to be someone's. they say if you’re not lonely alone, boy there is something wrong...they say learn from your mistakes. that's not always the case. i see 'em and i understand how i made 'em again and again.
-nada surf

in my adult life, thus far, (meaning post high school graduation) i have been attracted to two types of men: a) the quirky nice guy, goofball on screen: joshua jackson (pacey witter), michael cera (paulie bleaker), jonathan jackson (lucky spencer), gregory smith (ephram brown) and b) the attractive, "sincere", "together", guy I seem to fancy in real life. and by sincere I mean he tells you what he thinks you want to hear. and by together i mean he is emotionally unavailable, party-people. my dating life is a masquerade ball, and i seem to be without a costume. a sitting duck. i'm standing there vulnerable and exposed and i keep picking all the wrong characters. i am somehow at fault. this is what i attract. i am the common denominator. self sabotaging. choosing my own inevitable doom.

someone once explained that "i was loving and caring and he knew he could take advantage of me and i wouldn't hate him for it." that's disgusting. one, that he thought that. and two, that it is true. was true. i am consciously trying to avoid being that pathetic girl who craves affection at all cost. trying to be someone who values her worth, knows her rights, and respects her body. that should seem like a logical thing to do, but it feels very unnatural. my standards have been set so low, a measure of where i found myself, that the tiniest thing seems like i am asking too much. but that's settling. and i am done with that. the lord has promised me my hearts desire. and that is overwhelmingly, companionship. a family. a god loving husband and children of my own. that's a lot of pressure. but i think it's a good sign. it means i'm growing, the desire to have children, it means i am finally at a place in life where i feel i can care for others in a healthy manner. i crave that responsibility. it is a pang in my chest. and while i still find it difficult to expect more from a man, i am lowering my expectations for myself. i don't have to be perfect. it will never happen. i am fun, and eccentric, and outdoorsy, and while i would hope these attributes would be a welcome package, i seem to be coming up short. a guy once told me that i was the type of girl he would marry, but that i'm not dateable. how do you get to one from the other? and while i have been repeatedly told that i would make an excellent wife/girlfriend i continue to find myself in the dude role. just one of the boys. bob vila. maybe it's protection. self preservation. i can't get hurt if i'm not in the game. but it sucks to watch from the sidelines. to possess the qualities men say they are looking for, but to be benched because i'm not drama. i hate that i have spent even one day feeling sorry that i'm not skinny enough or blond enough. not enough.

but i don't want to feed into the lies i have told myself for so long. i want healthy. i want good. the nice guy. and i know he exists. my friends are marrying excellent examples. they are out there. i just need to work on what i'm drawing to me. i'm independent. maybe to a fault. it's survival mode. i've been on my own since my early teens. i know how to provide for myself. but that doesn't mean i don't know how to share. i just need to learn to trust. with faith like a child.