TLP II

Here are my TLP's for this weekend.... I promise I won't do this all the time. It might get old. But tonight, I wanted to blog (since I've missed it so much), and really, have nothing more on my heart than to share the wonders of God's love for us. So, without further ado....

How God reminded me of His love this weekend, aka, TLP, part II.

1. & 2. For that matter, are the same. Fellowship.

Saturday it was through the fellowship of two amazing friends, both "Loaded Potatoes" and wonderful, amazingly funny and cool women of God, who I am still astounded that I even get to be friends with. They're that cool. As we sat at Starbucks, latte's in hand, talking about vulnerability and relationships and independance and Him, all I could think about was how God has given us not just friends, but truly a body, made up of many parts, that is His church. For we share in the joys of friendship, but are brought together spiritually through the blood we are mutually washed in. And all of this for His glory and our joy.

Yet today, as I buckled against the fears and issues I have with feeling left out of the loop, or purposefully ignored, I found solace in the comfort of my married friends. During this time of interpersonal struggle, I stopped to pause, and think that no matter what our labels are, single, married, old, young, popular, a loner, whatever, we are all God's children, part of His body, and are made to work together, ascribing no one as a lesser member, but honoring all equally. Tough to do sometimes, when personal feelings come into play. How do we not show favortism to those we love, or get along best with? How do we show honor to those that we'd rather ignore? Fellowship isn't just the fruit of an action, the benefit of what God calls us to. It's a job sometimes too. Something to work at, and be disciplined about. Something He desires for us, has created us for, and we grow greatly, and sometimes difficultly through.

There is joy in fellowship - all kinds of it. The joy you get when young kids want to spend time with you, and think you're special. Crazy kids! The joy you get when you can spend sometime hearing from parents, or grandparents, and gleaning from their wisdom and love and seeing life from their more experienced perspective. There is much to be learned in fellowship, much that can stretch us. Sometimes it's just the act itself, of being in fellowship, that can be stretching, as this sometimes self-appointed loner can attest to. But this weekend, not only am I joyfully glad for the privilege of sharing in it, but I'm praising our wonderful Father, who in His wisdom and forethought, created us with a need and desire for it. Well done, Dad, well done.

The Love Project

So, as anyone within a ten foot radius of me in the last month well knows, I’m a huge advocate of asking God how much He loves me. I must sound like a little kid to Him, constantly asking Him “Do you love me? Do you love me? Do you love me?”. “Hey, me again. Do you love me? Ok, just checking.” Ummm, insecure much?

Yeah, I totally am painfully insecure, and am not a person who realizes she’s loved easily. Even when people will tell me that, tangibly, to my face, as in the case of my amazing bestie K, I often think it’s more lip service, and something we say like “I’m American, therefore I’m Christian”, than the real thing. For instance, “I love you Trin” translates in my brain as “I put up with you, cuz we’re friends. And you’re just ok”. But what does it really mean to be loved, wildly loved by the Creator of this universe? That’s something I’m still discovering, through the beautiful relationship my Heavenly Father has cultivated with me.

I ask Him all the time to remind me He loves me. And sometimes it’s through pink sunrises and Newsboys songs that He answers me. Sometimes it’s through His word, like being reminded that “The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing." (Zephaniah 3:17 or something). Other times it’s an inescapable feeling of peace and being cradled in the palm of His great big hand, like one of those Anne Geddes pictures of tiny babies dressed up like vegetables and what not. Usually that happens as I’m falling asleep, and I have to tell you, there’s nothing better to fall asleep to. At all.

But this past weekend, a speaker at a retreat I was at shared something that at first I thought was totally cheesy, but has been on my mind to do today. I’m gonna call it “The Love Project” and I’m totally ripping it off from her.

Here’s the 411 on The Love Project. Every day I’m going to write a different post-it note to myself, with one way that God shows me how He loves me. This is great, because I just got a brand new pack of super-bright, Caribbean color-schemed, Super-Sticky Post-It notes. Thank you Jesus & 3M. They're the classic 3”x3” size too. I do get a little fanatical about my office supplies, I’m not gonna lie to you.

So, Thursday I did my first one. My first TLP note, and I dated it and in my heart, I said “God, what’s one way I know you love ME?” And I wrote down “Pink sunrises and the perfect Wreck from Potbelly”. Come on let’s face it, I’m not always the deepest.

But I know that for the next few months, or years or however long this goes, I will have plenty of fodder, plenty of stuff to write down. Here’s a few that come to mind, to get me started:

• Ummm, helloooo.... He died on the cross! Dur.
• He didn’t just stay there, but He rose again, and is making a place for us to be with Him forever.
• And I’m pretty sure it’s gonna rock.
• He Reigns by the Newsboys
• Pink Sunrises
• Jeremiah 31:3&4 “The Lord appeared to us in the past, saying: "I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness. I will build you up again and you will be rebuilt, O Virgin Israel. Again you will take up your tambourines and go out to dance with the joyful.”
• The smell of babies’ heads.
• Chloe, when she smiles at me. That baby has an amazing, light up the room smile.
• Every time Celia asks me to have another sleepover at my house.
• Ephesians 5:1-2 “Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.”
• A hug from M – she really means it & holds on tight.
• Glee songs
• Romans 8. All of it.
• Falling asleep to tears as I know He holds me (see cradled in the palm of His hand reference above)
• Hearing from K that she’s still my best friend and biggest cheerleader
• The perfect Campfire Mocha, with lots of marshmallows.
• Knowing that He does not deal with me according to my transgressions, but has given me a huge heaping measure of grace and mercy, beyond what I could ever deserve, ask for or imagine. I am sooooo not punished like I need to be. Whew.
• Just stopping to think about it all. His love, that is.
• Going to the MIA.
• Art in general
• Colossians 3:12-15 “Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.”
• Just Haven’t Met You Yet by Michael Buble…. And the knowledge that if God has a husband for me, I just haven’t met him yet. Look, God supplies all my needs according to His riches in Jesus Christ, so if I really needed a husband, well by golly, I’d have one already. Till then, I’m not sweating it …. I just haven’t met him yet, or ever, but either way, good song, great God.
• Being called “kid” or “kiddo”
• When people guess my age, and they get it wrong, thinking I’m younger than I am. Ok, I’m vain, I know. But I can thank God for good aging genes, can’t I? There’s joy in being content with what God made you look like. Yeah, I want it to be better (skin care product freak, getting back to the Y!!), but I thank Him when I think of looking 5 or 6 years younger than I really am, and only having one grey hair.
• Defying Gravity, or for that matter, a good Aria.
• All Creatures of Our God & King.
• The way Caravaggio painted Christ.
• Laughing with T - well, really just when T laughs
• Shivers when I worship
• Tigers – and not the kind you find in your bathroom, but just the way they move and their soft orange slinkiness
• Snowflakes – the big, crystalline kind
• Loaded Potatoes – the girls, not the food
• Fireplace fires
• Finding money in the back pocket of my jeans.

There’s more y’all. Lots more. And maybe some of this is a stretch. I mean, Glee songs? But, the point is, there are just some things that bring me joy, and make me stop and thank God for them.

I know that He could have given us a world of grey nothingness. No beauty. No sunrises. No tigers. No snow days, No Caravaggio. No light, no bright, no music, nothing that was beautiful or awe inspiring, or even that just makes us smile. But our God is, among other things, indescribably beautiful. And He delights in making beauty and watching us enjoy it. He loves music, and joy, and smiles, and all good things. He has created a lot, and said it was all good. He gave us the ability to smell, to feel (touch), to taste, to hear, to see. I acknowledge that He’s got an amazing sense of humor, probably rocks out to the songs of the saints, and adores babies and puppies. How awesome is He?

And that makes me love Him – as Stephanie Smith sang, not for His wonders, but for who He is. I am crazy in love with a God that loves life that much. And you know what? I’m pretty sure He loves me too.

So I Did It!!!

So I did it. I got up there and spoke last weekend. For those of you just tuning in, to my life not as much as my blog, I mean at Village Creek Bible Camp (shout out to EYE-OH-WAAHHH!!), and at the All Girls Retreat.

In retrospect, what was the big deal anyways? Well, really, I think my nervousness was more about what God was doing in my own life, with desiring vulnerability and authenticity from me than a fear to speak publicly. Add to that the fact that I’ve been, for years now but also more recently, hiding my fears and perceived weaknesses about who I am as a woman, behind sarcasm and “being cool” and I think that He is working in me to break these walls down before I even got up to speak. As He began revealing these areas of desired submission and surrender to me in the last few weeks I realized it was more growth with and through Him that I was nervous about, than a bunch of spazzy junior high girls who didn’t get ONE of my jokes or pop culture references. Man I felt old.


But, it went well, I suppose. I had the much valued support of K, R, T & M in the audience, and their great big smiles kept me going, as a visual reminder of how my Father was smiling down too. Most of all I just wanted to share the fact that He has a Love Story with all of us, with me, with you, with these girls.

As a basis for some of what I shared, I used the love story between God and Israel as exemplified by Gomer and Hosea. Oh Gomer, you crazy ho! Yet, how much are any of us more faithful than she was? And because God is good, I knew later on in the weekend that He was desiring this story to be told, when one of the other speakers for Sunday began speaking out of the same book. Granted she prefaced it with tons of comments like “Nobody EVER speaks or preaches out of Hosea”, and “I know you guys NEVER hear from the book of Hosea, so this must be new to you, but … “ It was all I could do to not laugh and think “Oh sweetheart, if you had been there, not even 12 hours ago, you would have heard the exact same verses, and been able to see God’s goodness, as He speaks the same message through two totally different people”.

But my quiet snickers and chuckles must have said plenty, because before I knew it, H was kicking my chair and keeping me in line. All I could think was “Good thing Matt’s not here”. Yeah, I may be asking God to work in my life, but getting off my sarcastic, too cool for school high horse is going to be a project for months to come.

Anyways, I digress. Getting back to Hosea and Gomer. In the few days since I’ve come home from camp, I’ve been asking the Lord to make my personal relationship with Him more real in my life than it’s ever been. My big fear is that I will use this relationship with Him as a source of inspiration to draw from in ministry, or He would be the One I go to when I need something to pull out of my hat or to get the things in life that I want. Instead, I want to fall more and more in love with Him daily, and love Him as I would my dearest and bestest friend, even more than a husband or lover. Today, as I was praying that, and asking Him to remind me to love Him more, this song came on, this song that I love, and that sometimes says it all. Man, God’s timing is perfect!

Of Minor Prophets & Their Prostitute Wives
by Pedro The Lion

All the time you were burning my letters
you were only acting the part
You think without me you'll get on much better
but you don’t even know your own heart

Come home, darling
Come home quickly
Come home, darling
All is forgiven, so come home quickly

I treated you as if you were a princess
you treated me like a cop
I gave you boundaries to save you from certain death
dangling from the end of the rope

Come home, darling
Come home quickly
Come home, darling
All is forgiven, so come home quickly

But your still playing for a love
you'll never find outside of these arms of mine
The whole town is one step behind you
with the hang man on call
They've got the judge and you're convicted without a plea
Darling, they will listen to me
Darling, they will listen to me
Darling, they will listen to me

The fact is, we serve an amazing, awesome God y’all. And His heart is solely focused on our continued, deep relationship with Him, as the foremost most important aspect of our lives. We’ve all walked away from His love, even as Christians, seeking other gods, other loves. But there is nothing He will not do in us to bring us back to Him, in the desert, where He can speak love and tenderness to us.

Looking back at the last few months, and of course hindsight is 20/20, I can clearly see how He’s been moving and pushing me further towards righteousness, growth and personal relationship with Him. Oh, not to mention, once again, that awful, icky V word – vulnerability, but I think that’s another post for another day.

I can see for sure that He really isn’t going to let me get away with not being the woman He’s calling me to be. I’m grateful for His faithfulness. And I trust Him. Implicitly. So, since this is Your desire, God, I guess all I can say is “Bring it on”. You say “Darling they will listen to me”, but I am saying “Father, I will listen to You.”

Bright Shiny Objects

I think I'm a slave to bright, shiny objects. Not the real, glittery bird distracted by the sunlight off a piece of foil kind kind of things. But that's what I call the all the little things that are grabbing my attention from God at rapid gun-fire like pace these days. Those things that are sooooo effective at taking away my attention from the one true thing I'm trying to drill into my thick skull lately, and that is just how much He really loves me. Really, really loves me a lot. And how I'm called to act in light of that amazing, undeserved love.

There's not many, but man are there enough. Glee on dvd, sleep, a big crush, trying to learn my new job at work, the overwhelming desire to peruse the sales rack at the Gap. Oh, the Gap, with their trixy little "Take up to 70% Off" sign that lingers out front, beckoning with it's subtle font and understated lettering. Curse you Gap - you get too much of me to begin with. But no matter how minute and trite, or how meaningful any of these things are (Who am I kidding? With the exception of work and the crush, they're all a bit shallow.), they all seem to grab my focus and attention with a strength and powerful vice-like grip that only lots of prayer can break.

I'm speaking at an All-Girls retreat this weekend, and probably by the time this posts all my friends are going to be sick and tired of hearing that I'm nervous about it. A good friend reminded me last night that I have nothing to be nervous about, but little does he know. Oh little does he know. I plan on sharing my testimony there - the full waterworks of what God has done in my life and how out of His great, big, tremendous love He has redeemed me out of a past filled with abusive parents (crrraaaazy abusive parents), years spent chasing affection and attention from guys in most unnaceptable ways, and the belief system that true acceptance came from what I did or looked like or acted like when I thought people were watcing. It's a sad, messy story, and I'm about to share it with young women and staff members who I admire and respect, and who frankly, I don't really feel like being vulnerable and honest in front of. And I'm going to do this while trying to convey the beautiful message of how much our Lord really loves them, and calls them Daughter and Bride, even when it's a message it takes every ounce of my own energy to hear and comprehend. The neat thing is - the truth must be said, for if I didn't rocks would cry out His love.

Sadly, as I'm prepping for this weekend though, whether reading or writing, all I can I keep thinking is - if I get up there and tell this story, I better make sure I at least look good, so I better hit up the Gap this week and see if I can find something cute to wear, like those new skinny jeans or new boots, so they don't think I'm a total loser and not hear a word I'm saying because the sweater I'm wearing has pill balls under the arms or my recently outgrown jeans are too baggy and have grandma butt. Oh, and while I'm at it, how about another episode of Glee, to help me relax and laugh as I try and unwind after my hectic, stressful day at work. Yummmm, Caribou. Yeah, that.

URGH!! I'm telling y'all, bright shiny objects. These are not necessarily bad things, but these are the things that are keeping me from spending even more time with the Lord, and getting the full weight and gravity of what He is doing, and wants to speak to me. I love hearing His voice, that still small whisper. That unmistakable whisper that speaks to my heart with wisdom, comfort and power. If I could just throw all the bright shiny objects to the bottom of the sea, I'm sure then I could hear that voice much louder. But who am I kidding?

Because through it all, despite the ways that even today I have messed up, and been distracted, and walked away from the soft whisper of God's loving voice, I know in my heart, and in my head, and with the full confidence to share, that Christ's love for us is so vast, and deep that oceans of oceans of oceans couldn't hold it. The heavens themselves, full of stars and mysteries, cannot contain it. And my measly little distracted, girly mind cannot comprehend it, truly, ever. I can't throw away all my bright shiny objects. They'd just reappear like some scene out of Groundhogs Day. Some of them I would never want to throw away either - I like my job and that guy I have a crush on. But I can just ask God to turn my attention from those things that compete for my eye and focus it instead upon Himself, waiting there, patiently, silently, ready to whisper, ready to speak, ready to love.

If whispers looked like vapors, or fogggy air breathed on a cold winter's night, I'm pretty sure that God's whisper-like voice would sparkle like diamonds and snowflakes on silvery clouds of light. And for now, that is one bright, shiny object I want to sit and stare at all day long. Oooh, look .....

Back In Black... Or Something Like That.

It’s been a long time, and I feel I must apologize. I’ve been “out of the loop” with writing here lately, and it’s nothing that I’ve done, or you’ve done, as much as just some logistical crap, which God is finally bringing me past. But I’m back, and I’m committed to turning over a new leaf with a few things in 2010, and blogging is definitely one of them.

If it helps to know, at all, I have a huge fear of vulnerability. And blogging here lately has been a source of vulnerability in my life. I’m pretty sure the world would be shocked to know that despite how headstrong, independent, and confident I may ever come across, deep down past all the facades, I’m surprisingly vulnerable and timid, almost to the point where it can be paralyzing. I keep telling y’all, I really am shy!

Vulnerability is defined as “capable of susceptible to being wounded or hurt, as by a weapon, moral attack, criticism or assault”. I’d go so far as replacing “capable of” with “fear of” – or at least that’s how I’d define it in my own life. In the case of blogging, I have been fearful of criticism, or even repercussions, but more pointedly, of just letting myself, my innermost thoughts and my feelings be known to someone who I decisively did not trust and believed was out to hurt me. Someone who I found out was reading my blog. The whole wide world can read this blog, since it’s out there in cyberspace for all to see, but the moment I found out this person was, I withdrew like a turtle on a hot Florida highway, into my shell, hiding from danger and real life.

But even the most timid of turtles must come out sometime, or risk being run over by a big semi-truck, carrying genetically modified citrus fruit to a state where none can grow so that by the time it gets there it’s lost all nutritional value…. Or wait, analogy gone too far!

What I’m trying to say is this – God is doing too much in my life for me to be timid about people who might want to hurt me. He is my great Protector, and though I must always exercise good judgment and caution, and discernment in the decisions I make, I cannot keep silent about who He is or what He’s doing, and more than anything lately, I really want to be blogging about what He’s doing in my life. So there, deal with it. Ugh!

That, and I really just miss writing. It’s cathartic. It’s therapeutic. It’s part of who I am, and how I express myself, and the woman I want to be. A writer. A really, really good writer. We’ll see. At least this is a good start. You're welcome.

I'm here, really

I'm not ignoring my blog, really. And trust me, I have PLENTY to say. I'm just waiting out a little emotional hijacking, when I found out that some people that really don't need to know my innermost thoughts, desires and/or fears have been reading this. A lot.

So for those of you I love, know and trust -hang in there. I'm figuring out what to do. I miss writing. I'm a writer, for goodness sake... and I really do miss it!

Till then, or later, or whatever, thanks for reading, and trust me, much random rambling will be back soon.

Christmas In July - Well Not Quite

Autumn is here. And from the looks of the ten-day weather report on Weather.com, it's here to stay at least through next Tuesday too. I can not express in words how thrilled I am about this, save for the fact that the sooner it gets here, the sooner it's gone. Although, even the little bit we will get in Minnesota this year has to be better that what seemed like a nonexistent fall last year. Who knows?

I just know that this weather ushers in my favorite time of year. A time of changing leaves, pumpkin patches and apple orchards, cashmere sweaters and thick, dark tights. Time for fires, both inside and out. And steamy, savory, fragrant comfort food. A time of putting on some classical music, wrapping up in a blanket, and listening to storms outside my windows. Time for FOOTBALL!!!! Besides Christmas, it's pretty much the best time of the year.

How did a California girl, through and through, come to love the changing seasons, but particularly changes that usher in coldness and the promise of an inevitable winter? How did someone who grew up in perpetually 80 degree weather even come to love the middle of winter as the "best time of the year"? Am I mad? Secretly born in another part of the country, and then transported far, far away to the Sunshine State. That would make so much sense, considering my biological family and our, ummm, shall we say, differences?

I have no excuses, no explanations. I only know I do love the falling snow, the white blanketed streets, the allure of cashmere (there we go again, maybe it's all about a fiber) scarves and mittens and sledding, and hot apple cider and carols. The joy I get from bundling up. Some people like to take it off. Me, I like to put it on. And on, and on. And even before all of this, the thrill of chilly autumn nights, watching kids trick or treating, blustery winds, Charlie Brown specials, there is so, so, so much I love about Autumn. And Christmas, did I mention Christmas?

Christmas, without a doubt, turns me into the most blathering, starry eyed, romantic wishabout. All traces of the sarcastic, cool, cynic disappear without a trace under the prospect of stockings hung by the chimney with care. It's quite the transformation really.

I was told last week, however, that a certain roommate, who's initials are now A for Anonymous, was thinking of moving out for the months of November and December, as a result of my adoration for all things Christmas. It only took two little ornaments that I brought home to bring on this kind of reaction, so I have to wonder what bringing home all the decorations that are at my desk at work will elicit? Quiet time maybe? If I start walking around the house humming carols to myself, will I get to take a nap? Will hanging lights in the windows, or putting out some fake elk with white lights on the lawn get me another weekend alone? This could be the beginning of some seriously manipulative behavior, all in the name of the overwhelming needs of an introvert. Truly I jest.

Seriously though - I am thrilled to the bone at the prospect of decorating the house I love, and live in coincidentally, for Christmas this year. Pottery Barn catalogs, bring it on! It's been a good few years since I've had a place that I've wanted to decorate, much less could. Two years ago I was in the Squirrel Palace, and though I had a few guests over around Christmas time (le sigh, the UCE and the BFF), I didn't really go all out, you know, with a tree or anything, for lack of space, and fear of rodents flying out of it. Last year I had the colossal joy of sharing Christmas time at home (i.e. Minneapolis) with the family that has only enriched my great love for the holiday, my adopted MN family, the J's.

Though I have always loved Christmas, being able to share the beautiful holiday with them, both enjoying old and creating new traditions, celebrating the birth of our Lord and Savior, and just soaking up massive amounts of family time, has greatly grown my adoration for Christmas. Just thinking of it makes me feel like I'm in a movie, a Christmas movie, where we sing around a fire in matching sweaters. Though if it ever got to that point, I'd probably escape to the kitchen for some fresh air and another glass of homemade Irish Cream. For the first time in my life, I feel like I have the storybook family time that Christmas is partly about, and it blesses my reindeer socks off. For many years, having a family of my own, that loves and knows Christ, and enjoys Christmas together-time, as much as I do has been top of my Santa wish list. And though we're no relation, they are to me all I want in a family - loving, godly, accepting, funny, warm, snuggly, and in love with Christmas too. Maybe Christmas miracles really do come true.

This year, as I brainstorm and shop and prepare to decorate my own home in celebration of this holiday (don't worry roomies, not for months!), I can only imagine that my joy will be enhanced, both by sharing Christmas with my awesome, adopted family up the street, and by being able to come home at the end of the day, to my own place, lit up with twinkly lights, smelling of apple cider and pine trees, and then share all the joy in my heart with my roommates as well. They may find my Sally Sunshine Christmas loving attitude slightly in contrast with their own cynical little ways, but I know, in my heart of hearts, that some fresh baked gingerbread cookies, a nice fire, and maybe a little Bing Crosby/David Bowie in the background can win them over to the dark side. I just can't wait to find out!

Autumn and Christmas. Whether we like it or not, they are on their way. I am the last person to protest their imminent arrival, so friends, if you're not quite there yet, thanks for bearing with me. For now, we'll agree to disagree. After all, October 1st is only a few days away.

I'm Bored. Come Save Me John Krasinski!

I'm so bored right now, that I feel like I'm literally crawling out of my skin. I have some dessert in the car, and I know I should go home, instead of being here, typing, and letting it get gooey, but I'm so afraid that if I go home, I'll only be bored there too.

I could go home and clean and do laundry. I probably should.

I could go home and finish the series I'm watching - Fringe - which pretty much rocks in a Lost meets X-Files meets House kind of way. I'm really enjoying this first season, and find myself turning into an Easter Egg hunting kind of geek, the same way I did when Lost had my attention. I should probably go home and try to get through an episode or two.

I could go shopping and grab a few things we need for the house, like soap for the bathroom or lightbulbs. But then the dessert would still melt in the car and I'd run the risk of ending up at Von Maur checking out the tres adorable shirts in their juniors section, which I'm afraid might only lead to a case of "I just have to have this to wear (insert occasion here)".

Instead I'm here at the library wondering why the clearly vanilla looking dude in the blue polo shirt, who frankly is so clearly vanilla looking that you'd think he was FBI (or maybe that's too much Fringe getting to me) is smiling at the people at the computers, myself included. Creeeepy. Or wondering why the guy sitting across from me is laughing to himself every once in a while. Or marveling at my own amazing typing skillz as I rock the keyboard better than anyone else in here.

I don't know what I want to do. I'm really bored.

In the meantime, here is a pic that brought a great big smile to my face earlier. I think it's time for me to head home - but in all honesty, not before I hit the Gap's 4 day 40% off sale, so I can find a cute white bohemian looking blouse to go with the my favorite old jeans that I can get back into.

I pulled them out of a box in the basement this morning, glorying in all their old fadedness, the paint splotches that make them look kind of punk-rock-glam and the fact that I can get back into them!! I have been jonesin' for a pair of distressed looking, torn up, "boyfriend" jeans for the better part of late summer/early fall. The best part of these, is that they totally fit the bill, minus any price tag. I can't wait to go home and rip 'em up a bit, so they're in perfect fierce BA shape to wear out tomorrow night. With jeans to rip up, dessert in the car, and the thought of some Fringe to watch tonight, maybe I won't be so bored after all.

My Overwhelming Need for "LEAVE ME ALONE!!"

So maybe you’ve all noticed, and maybe you haven’t, but I haven’t been blogging as much these last two weeks. In part it’s due to a changed situation at work, and in part it’s due to the fact that I’m stretched beyond thin for brain power and have not been able to construct a complete sentence other then “Me. Needy. Sleep.”

Yep, so I finally got the promotion I had applied for at work. And I’m so tempted to say something along the lines of “And it’s about freaking time!” For the last two years, since leaving the wild, wonderful world of being a pastry chef, I’ve been a receptionist. I answer phones. I listen to old people give me their life story, just so three minutes later I can tell them they have the wrong number. I get yelled at by rude, foreign men who may or may not have bought our equipment illegally off the internet. I’ve discovered the sad fact that it’s actually harder to look busy than it is to be busy. And all day long, all I do is talk. Talk. TALK. ALL. THE. TIME.

So usually, by the time my day is done, the absolute last thing I want to do in the whole wide world is…..talk. I’m glad to listen, just don’t ask for me to do more than smile and nod. I am an introvert by nature anyways, recharging myself more through alone, quiet time, than social interaction. And while I love social interaction, too much of it no good for Trinettey. Such as this past summer, where for literally 5 weeks straight I’ve had something going on in a major way, every day. So for the first time in about forever, this weekend afforded me the chance to just be home, around the house with nothing to do. And going into Saturday, I knew I was going to relish every second of it, but most especially those precious hours spent napping.

If only that would’ve happened. Let’s just say that the combination of my own inability to settle down and relax, the crazy two-day house party thrown by our Asian neighbors to the south (complete with 24 kids running across our lawn screaming and what I’m pretty sure was an animal sacrifice), the fact that I share the house with three other highly outgoing people and my own need for a perfectly quiet atmosphere when I sleep, kept me from getting any rest and relaxation this weekend. And by Sunday afternoon I was feeling it.

Like a child who is unable to communicate or express exactly what is wrong with them, all I could manage to spit out was “I’M CRABBY!!”, as I buried my head into a sofa cushion and screamed, coming up half laughing half crying. At that moment I knew I was hitting the wall, in a big way, and I had no way to fix the problem. With all these factors weighing in, I didn’t even want to try and lay down for a nap, knowing I’d end up more frustrated for trying. Finally, I grabbed E, and decided to make a Target run. When all else fails, Target never lets me down.

As I was processing on the way back from Target (I’m telling you, something in their air clears my head and allows me to think more rationally), I realized that as an introvert, I really do need alone time, solitude and quiet, to recharge and re-energize. And in a long, long time I haven’t had any of that. Even when I’m home, I’m never alone, nor is it ever really quiet. And I love that about where I live and my roommates, etc. I really do. But I had not been able to see, until now, the toll that lack of solitude and quiet was really taking on me, or that really, I have a legitimate need here that is not being met.

And sadly, right now, I don’t have a great solution for this problem either. I’m toying around with the idea of taking the house hostage this weekend, since all three of my roommates will be gone, closing up all the windows, soundproofing all the doors, turning off the lights, and pretending I’m not home, just so I can sit down in the basement, and watch some TV, or fall asleep on the sofa. The simplest of things can become so complex.

I guess we’ll see what happens.

Anyway, back to the promotion. Yep, I got it . And amongst other things God is teaching me through this blessing, is to trust in His timing and His way of doing things. Through all the details that have been inherent to this promotion and the story of how I got it and how it's working out, he's also taught me to lose gracefully, to live in gratitude and contentment, and to be glad in all things that He does, even the things that are starkly different than what I have expected or would've done myself. It's a lot to take in

When I will actually get to take my place as our new International Account Services Representative for Germany and Japan, I don’t know. We need to hire someone to take my place (pshaw, like that can be done!) before I can move into my new role. After two years of what can be called Not Rocket Science, I am anxious and excited to be challenged and new and formidable ways. I do know that with great power comes great responsibility, i.e., no more blogging, browsing funny websites or taking naps. I have to work for my living now. The good ol’ days are over. *Sigh* But in the meantime, till that actually happens, I will not forget that God is great, beer is good and people are crazy. Or something like that.

Thanks for tuning in…. it’s about time for me to go tune out. Tootles.

Back By Popular Demand

Here are a few more hilarious websites to amuse yourself with during the day. You know, cuz I never do that.


http://www.sverigessamstasida.se/ryskalekparker.php This is basically the world’s scariest and creepiest and saddest children’s playgrounds. Fun – I totally would take my kids there if I had any! And then listen to them quietly sobbing in their beds at night.


http://www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archives/16784 Playgrounds From Hell. Or the former Soviet Union.


http://www.engrish.com/ If you’ve spent any time in Asia, you’ll recognize the awesome signs and half-baked signs.


http://www.theonion.com/content/index One of my favorites, whether in print or online. Of course it claims to be America’s Finest News Source, but I believe that’s only true since the Weekly World News went under.


http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1208913/The-poodles-transformed-pandas-horses-snails-creative-grooming-dog-shows.html One of the best examples that people who breed dogs have too much time on their hands (sorry Sue, I didn’t mean you!)


http://crappytaxidermy.com/ In case the poodles weren’t enough


Like Mental Floss http://www.neatorama.com/ is just kind of random fun stuff.


For anyone who hasn’t seen the hilarious movie Fanboys yet, you may not appreciate this site. But for those down with driving cross country just for a chance to break into Skywalker Ranch, enjoy this article http://www.darkroastedblend.com/2009/07/star-wars-for-your-mind-heart-and-soul.html


Last week I posted about the Building A Better Man website, which I was only able to halfheartedly endorse…. This one’s much better trust me. http://artofmanliness.com/


And because I’m not just one of the guys, or even close, I’m going to admit that one of my all-time favorite girly sites is Southern Beauty, which is written and edited by a bunch of Southern Women. Now trust me, nobody does Beauty like Southern women. Naturally strong and resilient by nature, their fortitude often applies itself in shellacked hair, shellacked nails, head to toe matching accessories, flawless makeup even in 102 degree weather with 70% humidity…. there is something so appealingly OCD about the studied beauty of Southern women. There is part of me that embraces my boho, neo-hippie roots, embraces the way I rebelled as a teenager into the perfect, argyle wearing Young Republican, but there is very little in me that is truly a Southern belle inside. I can only read, and learn and wish. http://www.sobeautymag.com/


Well, that’s it for my more current suggestions. Over and out good buddy.

Community Education

If I were to ever write a book about the concept of Community, I would not need to actually write anything, since I can’t begin to tell you how many half baked blog posts I have about this subject. I got more rhymes than the Bible’s got Psalms…. Sorry, just a little House of Pain there for y’all. I’m warning you, this post is gonna be mad ADD.

Ok, though, getting back to community, and what it means, how it affects our lives, why we need it, etc. I could just go through those old posts, make some sense of them, and boom, a novel. The next great American tome. Minus some focus and coherence and a plotline you can follow. There’s really that much material.

But the thoughts in my head today about relationships and community and my three day weekend and even just life are so much more scattered and random than I can even believe. I am sooo ADD today. Have I said that? And even if I were to try and flesh out my thoughts like I should, I would just end up with more fodder for the make-believe book and non-postable posts. Therefore, I’m just doing bullet points and deal with it.

1. The intimacy of two becoming one is starting to scare me. Is it really just about the day to day? If so, I’m screwed! I don’t want to give away all the little things to someone that’s not my husband. Rob Bell, in his book SexGod, which thankfully hasn’t been about sex that much, says that the whole process of two becoming one isn’t so much about gettin’ it on, as about just doing life together on a small things basis. You know… what kind of sauce do you like for your Chicken McNuggets? Night owl or Early Bird? That kind of stuff. I really hope this isn’t true and that Rob Bell is off his flippin’ rocker.

2. Community is such an amazing thing – being able to kiss my nephew on the head and send him off with a banana bread muffin on his first day of 1st Grade, stoop parties and porch parties and just hanging with the girls, having someone help me fix a tire, picnics in the park, you name it. I’m loving being part of a community and a neighborhood.

3. I can’t do car stuff. I break down and become a totally helpless girl. I panic. I shut down. I turn into the most helpless female ever. Even just driving somewhere I’ve never been to before, at night, alone, is enough to put me into helpless female mode. Like last weekend when I had to drive down to camp on my own, at night, alone, and I was so panicky about it. I did pretty good, and was really proud of myself for it, till I got to LaCrosse, and took the wrong turn and got about 50 miles towards Madison before I realized I was going the wrong way. I had to call R for Roommate and whine and ask for help and endure “Really? You’re lost going to camp?? Really???” before I was able to turn around and head back down the right highway. Then I got as far as Lansing, missed my turn to camp, and was almost to Harpers Ferry before I turned around, crying. As I was wiping the tears away, fearful of hitting a deer or going back to Madison or having to pull off and sleep in my car, I remember wishing for Jesus to speak to me audibly in a voice identical to Josh Turner’s and tell me where to go. Because really, that’s what Jesus sounds like to me – Josh Turner. I hate to admit it, but when it comes to car stuff, directions, flat tires, oil changes, broken mirrors, I really need a man to step in. True story.

4. Diablo Cody is so pretty. Brunettes pretty much rock the beauty world, but she’s just so cool and smart and funny besides. Her and Kat Von D are awesome. I want to be pretty like them. Cool and pretty and smart and inked.

5. Great Is Thy Faithfulness is an awesome hymn. Love it so much! I think it might be my favorite right now. That should change by oh, I don’t know, 6:05. ADD remember?

6. How on earth am I going to get everything done this week? Block Party stuff. Hawaiian Luau Team Building Event stuff? Birthday shopping for Sierra. Painting?? Sleep? Finishing all my library books to get them back fee free?? Sleeping?? Pshaw!

7. I need to apologize to my roommate for posting on facebook that I was going to throw a shoe at his head. I really, really, really needed a nap yesterday and wasn’t getting it because he kept talking to me. I need to learn that it’s ok to communicate my needs to other people (like “Can you please shut your stinking pie hole so I can get a nap here?”) instead of passive-aggressively posting my frustrations in open air. This is a big lesson for me. That and that lack of sleep, sleep deprivation, not sleeping and needing a good night’s sleep all make me crabby. Really really crabby.

8. I want my hair to be long again. I want to be a a bijillion & two sizes smaller, really cute with a button nose and blonde hair. I want the guy I have a crush on to not want that for me and to say I'm crazy because he likes me just as I am - wacky, chubby, brunette with awkward middle-stage hair. I want him to totally see past my faults and embrace my quirkiness. Hell, I embrace all of his, though he’s not really quirky so much as wonderfully amusing and wholesome and normal and nice and totally the mayor of Laugh City.

9. The bathroom upstairs looks like the inside of a chimp cage. Really, the whole house looks like it was vandalized by an errant gang of chimps. I really need to get motivated to clean. Or find a nice Mexican mama-type maid I can pay to do it. Like the maid Nancy Botwin had in the first two seasons of Weeds, minus the morality lectures.

10. My socks are blessed right off my pretty painted feet today thinking of the amazingly fantastical time I had Sunday night with my fellow Dirty Couchers. There about three of you right now who know what I’m talking about, and to you three, I throw off my hat (feathers and all) and applaud your mighty womanly ways. Normally I eschew all traditional female gatherings - too much estrogen on the dance floor. But it’s been a long time since God brought me female friends who didn’t want to sit around and knit or scrapbook and sing As The Deer and then trade recipes for banana bread or watch Christy: The miniseries. I am thankful and I love you all, for being who you are, smart, fierce, wickedly funny, hip and cool and intelligent and cultured and wild, wacky and wonderful. You guys are restoring my faith in the XX Chromosones!


Well, I’m pretty sure that’s about it for me today. I could so use a nap right now, and some more deep fried Cajun spiced pickle, but alas tonight’s another night I have stuff going on. I’m learning to treasure days with nothing planned. I’m sure that I slack enough for four people here during the day, but quiet evenings home alone, with wine and a book and an early bedtime are a luxury I dearly treasure. And I think to myself....what a wondah-ful woild. Till later, thanks for reading, and keep on truckin’!

Mad Props

Ok, as we all know by now, sometimes during the day, I am less than challenged or stimulated with a constant flow of responsibility. I’m ok with this. Because my lenient schedule allows me ample time to peruse some of the more interesting and humorous websites out there. Here, is my top ten lists of things that amuse me daily, in no particular order:

1. Awkward Family Photos – I can only hope to find a man willing to recreate our love story in awkward knee shelf and back hug photos. The irony that would ensue!

2. LOL Cats – Cheesy, yez, I knoe. But something bout dat weird LOLCat languages haz me hookd. Thar’s even LOLCat languages generador dat I often type mah emails into, 4 amuzement an 2 confuse mah coworkerz. Sadzly, spell check katchez me evry tiem.

3. Don’t Even Reply– I almost peed my pants yesterday reading some of these responses, such as Insulting Parrot and Horse Farm and Special Wife.

4. People of Wal-mart – Because beauty is all in the eye of the beholder.

5. F*** Yeah, Neil Patrick Harris – NPH, wherever he can be found. Awwwesoooome!

6. Stuff Hipsters Hate - Like... “Sobriety: Hipsters know their ABCs: Adderall, Booze, Coke” or “Other Subcultures” or “Washing Their Hair”.

7. Stuff White People Like – Like ….. “Camping”, “Vespa Scooters” and “Girls With Bangs”.

8. Celebrity Baby Blog – yes, I do stalk celebrity babies, I know, I know. But with such cuties as the Stefani-Rossdale boys, Suri Cruise (she’s such a little doll!), and of course the Jolie-Pitt clan out there, I can’t resist.

9. Furry Puppet Studio – maybe it’s my obsession with Jason Segel and the fact that he’s making a puppet movie, or maybe it’s just how fantastical and tactile and detailed they all look. Nah, it’s Jason Segel.

10. New Math – think of it this way …. Store Manager = Employee + Neck Tie. Or, Dowry = Marriage + Door Prize.

Potential Runners did include Hot Chicks with Douchebags, but sadly, it’s blocked most of the time. There are rip-off websites that provide me hours of trainwreck stupification. You don’t want to, but you just have to look. Oooh, that gelled hair, I think I just threw up in my mouth. Mom, where’s my protein ma??

You know what really bothers me about these people though? The proliferation of HC’s & D-Bag’s suing the makers of the book “Hot Chicks With Douchebags” for slander, libel and personal trauma. You’re a douchebag! You wear Ed Hardy. You’re the bimbo that overtans, overbleaches and overhangsoutofherclothes that’s plastered to his arm. Get over it. Don’t sue the makers of a book for calling you out on your ridiculous behavior and meticulously sculpted facial hair or Tara Reid worthy implants and embarrassing you in front of all your friends. Just get some class, a real job and put your camera away. Urgh!

There was also If I Had To Choose, which basically gives you two choices and you have to choose which you’d eliminate from the waking world. Such as “Arrested Development or Seinfeld?”, “We Will Rock You or We Are The Champions?” and “Lloyd Christmas or Ace Ventura?”. Nice.

There’s always the blog “Just A Guy Thing: Building A Better Man”, which I might recommend to my male audience, though sometimes I look through it just to see if they’re getting it right. They aren’t. There’s Church Sign Maker, which let’s you put whatever text you want into a church’s marquis sign. But sometimes their server freezes up. And then there’s also (crazy random admission) Rock N Roll Bride, which is basically goth wedding pictures, but classier. It’s where I got my idea to have my entire bridal party wear Converse at my (prolly never gonna happen) wedding.

I also read other people’s blogs, write in my own blog (such as right now, a few minutes before I get to go up to the mall for lunch), and look for cool, new blogs. Productivity has never been so high!

It's A Girl Thing

I’m feeling a little psychzophrenic today. I’m simultaneously surfing the pics from Ted Kennedy’s funeral and memorial service on Time.com, admiring the class and sophistication of a bunch of New England Republicans all dressed in black, while also surfing one of my new favorite websites “People of Wal-Mart” which pretty much has every mullet sporting, too tight jeans wearing white trash fatty shopping at their favorite discount superstore. They’re both, in their own way, pretty sweet.

But granted, not as sweet as the new argyle cardigan I picked up from the Limited yesterday. It’s so cute! It’s the perfect fall colors – grey, and this new muted greenish yellow that I’m in love with and taupe. Very preppy Harvard girli-sh, which is a good look for me to experiment with for fall, I think. I’m really excited for fall, actually, as it’s my favorite season for dressing. I love being cuddled up in warm tights, boots, cardigan sweaters, scarves and hats. It’s not quite winter, where practicality starts to cramp my style - it’s just the perfect time of year.

I just love the whole Ali McGraw/Love Story look for fall. Ali McGraw at that age would play my sister in the story of my life. I pretty much love that movie too, and watch it every fall, weeping on my sofa and going around for weeks, in scarves and sweaters, saying “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” But I digress – back to cute argyle sweater and fall looks. I was thinking of pairing it maybe with a grey tunicy top, some dark jeans and motorcycle boots to toughen the whole thing up?

Speaking of cardigans – I have been wondering why, lately, my phone has stopped ringing, and there’s no more late night phone calls from John Krasinski on the other end. You know, John Krasinski, who plays Jim Halpert on the Office? John Krasinski – who next to Jason Segel is in my top three Celebrity Crushes*? Anyways, turns out that while I was away camping, and at camp, and camping some more, and at camp again, he was out getting engaged to some actress named Emily Blunt. I always knew his heart was a’roaming, but in the busy-ness of life I thought that my cardigan sweater obsession had him in lockdown. After all it was he who, when asked what he looks for in a woman, replied with “It’s not about celebrity or not. It’s all about, do you have that ‘girl in a cardigan’ in you. You gotta have that.” Clearly Emily Blunt delivers the cardigan goods.

Well, Jason, I guess it’s just you and me now. Call me. Maybe we can throw on some cardigans and go walk in a park where the leaves are turning colors. Happy Autumn to us!

*I’m starting to see that I definitely have a type.

I'm Not That Girl

I know that sometimes I put on this totally cool girl vibe. Like, nothing ever bothers me, I’m just a California beach girl, cool, calm, mellow. Like totally. Sometimes I take pride in that – in the fact that nothing really ever gets to me and I can roll with all the punches and have a smile at the end of the day. But when something does get under my skin, boy does it ever. GET. UNDER. MY. SKIN. The things that get me fired up, the things I’m passionate about, on those issues and in those moments, you’ll see me come out dukes up, ready to take on the world. And I want, more than I think I ever give myself credit for, to make a fighting difference in the world. I think Brad Paisley put it prettiest when he said “She's a fighter when she's mad, and she's a lover when she's loving.” Oh yes I am.

So, that being said, in the last few weeks I’ve been positively steaming about a few things and have been losing my temper about them. I’ve found that God is teaching me that being that cool is something I try to do apart from Him and I’m starting to fail at it. Some of the things that have me steaming are pretty valid though, and some of them are just irritants to me. An example of something valid is the passion I have for imparting a message of overwhelming love to young women, AND THEN telling them about abstinence. Abstinence is the natural byproduct of a heart sold out to God, and living for Him. Girls these days are hearing all the time not to have sex, but for all the wrong reasons. Yeah, there’s STD’s and unwanted teenage pregnancies, and some guy’s gonna break your heart out. But the fact is, kids have sex. Lots of sex. Sex, sex, sex. And the fact is, till it starts being about their hearts, and their souls, and their eternities, it’s never going to be about their penises and vaginas. I’m sorry, that’s just what I think, and like I said, I’m passionate about it. And I’m not afraid to say those words.

But last week, there was also some issues I was frustrated with in more of an irritated sort of way. They were nowhere near as life altering or important as all that, but just enough to get under my skin and make me want to throw my hands up in the air and scream. Like the Princess and the Pea, they were small things that only I could feel, but for a few days it was enough to keep me up at night. I’ve been trying to think how to phrase the issue without sending a warped picture of what’s going on in my life, or without sounding completely full of myself - and I’m at a loss for words. But basically it boils down to having met two guys, and being asked out by both, for dinner by one and drinks by another, politely and tactfully turning them both down on the basis of strong spiritual incompatability and then receiving grossly disproportionate and rude responses by both of them. I’m talking grossly rude and disrespectful, even downright hurtful responses that detailed why I was such a bitch or had issues of my own that were keeping me from whatever, etc. Yikes!

Now here’s the thing – I’m not bragging about this (so, JJ, don’t even go there!). I never get asked out. I just don’t. I’m not that girl. You know, the cute, petite, flirty, blonde adorable type that all the guys gravitate towards and want to date because she’s just so vulnerable and apple pie sweet and little. I’m ok with that, because I love who God made me and embrace who I am as His creation – if all He made is good, then there’s gotta be something good about being quirky, strong-willed, razor-witted, independent, intelligent, German farm stock brunette me. But if I’m not “that girl” then who am I – relationally? It seems like who I am is a total freak, creep magnet. True story. I’ve had more bad date encounters than I can count on both hands. And in a fit of cosmic hilarity, every time I do meet a guy who is interested in me, he’s got some serious spiritual issues going down, and we’re not just talking your run of the mill struggles here. I’m talking hard core, freaky creeper stuff. Like the guy I met who admitted on a second date that he had been previously possessed by an evil spirit who caused him to hit his wife, and that’s why he’s divorced now, but it’s ok because after he was excorcised he went to work for the Catholic church as a “Ghost Hunter” and what do you mean you don’t want a third date??? Or the pastor that admitted a month into dating that he was married, but it’s ok because his congregation was in full support of him finding a woman who would really love him, “not like his current wife.” Or the guy who asked me out last week, who, even though I asked him to please not get into any more detail about his warped “send your prayers up to the universe” theological beliefs, proceeded to admit to me that his mom, a “really good therapist”, hypnotized him and he found out through it that he was molested as a baby by his pastor, and that’s why he used to want to molest little kids. Or how about the guy who …. Well you get the point.

Now what is it about me that draws in the weird, the creepy, the freaky, the spiritually unstable or misled? Do I send out the vibe of being uber-sympathetic? Or worse yet, is there something in me that draws out the worst in these men? Or sends the message that we actually might have something in common? More so than the responses I received after turning down the romantic advances of the spiritually dysfunctional online-dating crowd, what worries me most is the thought that maybe there is something about me that only attracts these bad guys. I’m not a bad girl, in the leather wearing, motorcycle riding, rebellious definition of that phrase. Nor am I the kind of woman who has let her heart get misled by waves of doctrine and teachings of man that are in direct contradiction to the ultimate source of truth and stability, God’s word. So what gives here?

As frustration from my interactions with these guys was just coming to a simmer in my head, something happened this weekend, and I did it again – I lost my patience and my California cool. It was in the middle of a conversation a bunch of us single girls were having, wherein a few of them were complaining about not finding the “right guy”. They were talking all hypotheticals, such as “What if I date someone, and the whole time we’re dating, I’m thinking there’s “someone better” out there?” and “What if I marry the wrong person?”. Lots and lots of “wrong person” , “wrong guy”, “someone better” talk. And I was losing my temper about it pretty quick. That’s definitely something I need to work on. But the subject matter was getting under my skin like a mite, due to the fact that I realized that none of them had even come close to meeting Mr. Wrong Guy. Trust me, I have! From what I knew of this awesome, godly group of women, none of them had been on a date with a guy only to find out he was previously possessed or a potential child molester, and really, that’s the strongest definition of “the wrong guy” I could think of. As we were sitting there, and I was trying to hold back my tongue, the Lord reminded me of the words of my old pastor - that we need to not worry so much about dating the right person as just being the right person. The same pastor, in a sermon series on dating and marriage, had also once made the conjecture that any two people, with hearts completely sold out to the Lord, following after Him and willing to put some hard work, sacrifice and compromise into a relationship, could make a go at it, and develop love and affection in a mutually respectful relationship. In this day and age of “Mr. Right” and “That Girl”, it’s a revolutionary concept that seems a little archaic and primitive, but that I truly believe might work.

So, today, as I meditate on who God has called me to be, and try to just be the right person, not for any one guy out there, but because I believe it’s part of God’s call in my life to exemplify Christ and just rock at being awesome, I realize, I’m not that girl. I’m not the girl who is going to worry about finding Mr. Right, and I’m not the girl who can avoid the creepers, but maybe I can reflect Christ to them, and I’m learning I’m definitely not the girl who’s as cool, calm and collected as she seems to think she is. I’m just me. I’m just Trinette. And no one else can be that girl.