Personal DNA

Apparently this box is an accurate description of who I am. In some ways, it's eerily true (slightly low trust? slightly high femininity? slightly high spontaneity? Dead on!). In other ways, I have to wonder (what exactly is low agency?) In any case, if you scroll over each box, it will give you a road map of my Personal DNA.

Advocating Creator
Scroll over the boxes for a detailed description

Thanks K... you rock at finding the best fun stuff!

Wacky Holidays II

Well, in a ginormous fit of irony, today is actually both National Hairstyle Appreciation Day and National Honesty Day.

So I have to be honest with you, I don't really appreciate your hairstyle!

What's The Truth Part II

Ok, so on another note... a guy friend of mine told me today that he is fed up with girls using the line "I'm not interested in dating anyone right now, I'm finally happy on my own." and then turning around and within weeks, nay days, dating someone. Other than them.

So sorry mon frère! It could be a line. But you know what? I kind of wish I was dating someone right now. I am happy on my own but life could be a little less boring if there was someone nice to share all that with. But, hey, since I'm not, guess what? I'm happy single too. Less drama this way, and it's cheaper too.

So, see, sometimes girls just need to fess up. Next time a girl uses that line on you, you should tell them I said so.

What's The Truth?

Have you ever had someone in your life that some people may consider "toxic"? That's a phrase that our society throws around for anyone who is negative, overly emotional, or who displays behavior that is socially unacceptable. Well, what do you do with such people? The Emo's. The Self-Absorbed's? The MI's?

What if there was someone in your life that you truly loved, and wanted the best for - someone that you would stand by through hell or high water, thick or thin, and they were "toxic"? What then? How do you handle interacting with someone who you just can't win with, but who you know you need to keep giving to? How do you deal with that?

It seems to be a recurring theme today... A good friend of mine poured her heart out to me earlier because one of her coworkers just doesn't seem to get it. Whenever she tries to talk to this woman, about anything at all, the person is negative, short sighted and inwardly focused to the point of dramatizing her so-called troubles. It's driving my friend insane, and yet her questions to me today were along the lines of, how do I love on this person, and how do I minister to them?

You got me.

There is someone in my life that I dearly love, someone I would do anything for. But they just don't seem to understand boundaries, and are consistently overly dramatically emo. Nothing I do is ever good enough for this person, and when I get to the point where I've lost all patience with them (where I'm at right now), then my tense behavior seem to give them the fodder they need to break down into a cloud of emo-ness and one again remind me just how little I appreciate or support them. How little anyone appreciates or supports them (though I take this as directly relating to me, because why would it be pertinent if it were anyone else). No matter what I do, I will never be in the right with this person, because they're overly emotional and sensitive state will always find something to complain about it with me, life, situations.

I just got off the phone with this person, and all I can ask myself is "What's the truth?". What is the truth of this matter, because all I'm hearing is confusion. My heart says one thing, my head says another, and the whole while they're telling me something way different. Seriously it's like the minute the phone snaps closed, I can feel my head start to spin, and I don't know how to identify the truth. Am I wrong? Am I a bad person? Are they? Should I feel bad for them, or fed up with them? If I do, then again, am I a bad person?

I love this person. I pray for them and want God's absolute best for them. But, like anyone else in this world, I cannot carry their load. I can help them, in situations to carry a burden, here or there. I can point them in the direction of God, and remind them that the God who shed His blood for them will also care for them with all grace. But I cannot, hell, I will not be the one to strap them on my back and get them through the mire and the filth that this life has put in their way. I cannot do it. I'm not God. I can barely waddle through the mess myself, and that is solely by His grace. I wouldn't want to try to take His place even if I could rescue them. And that's a fact that this person just never seems to understand.

That, my friend, is the absolute truth. Life has handed us all a bunch of crap - it's the nature of the imperfect, fallen, unregenerate world we live in. All creation is groaning for it's redemption, and the day that the Lord will return to usher in newness and perfection. Till then, there is a lot of junk we must all deal with. The consequences of our sin, the consequences of someone else's sin, those we know and our first parents, Adam and Eve. There is very little good in this world, and yet, there is hope. Hope in our Father, who loves us, who will, and can carry us. Hope in the strength that His Holy Spirit alone can impart. The best hope of all, the promise of our Great Redeemer, Christ Jesus, who will usher us home and into the banquet He has prepared for us. God alone is the One who can help us, and who really, really, really help us. Not me, not you, no one else can be that good, that God.

This is all I know. Now how do I get it across to those who need it the most? How do I say all of this to someone I love. Maybe I can write it here. I love you, but I can't help you. I can't even help myself. I love you and I rejoice in the life God has given you, but only you can live that life. I need to live mine. I love you, and I know you're stretched, broken, hurt, angry, confused and sore. But when you pour out your emotions onto me, you make me stretched, hurt and confused too. I am sorry you're hurt, I really, really am. But I can't make it better.

I can only listen, and pray and tell you this - I love you. But when you tell me that your burdens are making it so hard and no one loves you, and no one supports you, and no one cares, etc, do you know what I hear? I hear "Trinette, you don't love me, you don't help me, you don't care for me or support me. And that makes you wrong and me right. That makes you a bad person". And that is not the truth.

I hope you find the truth. I hope I can hear it too.

What If I Don't Know Any Australians In Minnesota??

Did you know that tomorrow is National Hug An Australian Day? My heart breaks to think that it is the first NHAA Day that we will be without my favorite old Australian, Steve "The Crocodile Hunter" Irwin.

But I must ask the pertinent question - what if I don't know any Australians in Minnesota? I knew like 4 or 5 back home in California, all cute and hilariously funny (most Aussie guys are like that y'know). But here in landlocked, Midwest Minnesota? Would any Australians even choose to live in such a cold, frigid state? Hmmm....

Well, I guess I'll just have to skip observing this important holiday and celebrate National Richter Scale Day instead (also tomorrow). Now there's a holiday I am quite familiar with, having good experience with a richter scale, heck even having toyed around with one at the Griffith Park Observatory before.

So many wacky holidays, how's a girl to keep up?

A Motherly Dilemna

Ok, so Mother's Day is coming up, and there are a lot of mothers, even besides my own, who I want to celebrate this year. So, in the spirit of scrapbooking and music, two of my favorite things, I decided to put together a CD with songs about mom on it, and then put it in this adorable photo book which I did a Make & Take for at Archivers. I am so excited to share this with my own mom, as well as those mothers I love and respect (Peggy, Michelle, Katie, Karen, you guys are awesome!)

But here's my dilemna - what songs about "mom" do I put on there? All the ones with the good lyrics, like acknowledging a mother's influence are old-time-hokey-country songs, and all the cool ones, with a decent sound to them are about how someone's mother drove them to the point of insanity (those brothers from Oasis are really messed up!).

In any case, here is the playlist I have so far. I can only think of one person who reads this blog (I love you K-girl!!), but in case anyone else does, I'm very open for suggestions: (Oh, P.S., yeah some of the artists listed there aren't the original recording artist for that song, it just so happens I like their version a little better)

Loves me like a rock – Paul Simon (might use the Allison Krauss version)

Someone to watch over me – Frank Sinatra

Stacys Mom – Fountains Of Wayne

Calling my Children Home – Emmylou Harris

Don’t Step on Mother’s Roses – Johnny Cash

Anita's Heart - Fernando Ortega

When Mama Prayed – Randy Travis

Your Heart Will Lead You Home – Kenny Loggins

In My Daughter's Eyes - Martina McBride

A Song For Mama – Boyz II Mama

Heart Of The House – Alanis Morrissette

Shower The People – James Taylor

I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing – Aerosmith

God Only Knows – The Beach Boys

Maybe I’m Amazed – Jem

She Believes In Me – Jarod Mason

Sweet Child O’ Mine – Sheryl Crow

You Are The Sunshine Of My Life – Stevie Wonder

Thank You – Dido

Secret Garden – Bruce Springsteen (really, what woman does this song not apply to?)

Lullaby - The Dixie Chicks

This One's For The Girls - Martina McBride

So, any and all input is appreciated! Maybe once I get this playlist all sweet and together, I can post it on here, wouldn't that be a nice treat for mom's everywhere.

New Meaning To A Great Mystery

And by that mystery, I mean my name. Trinette. See, often when people ask what my name means (after they get done butchering the quite phonetic pronunciation, despite my generous favor of spelling it for them), I tell them "Well, it's a German derivative of Catherine, which is my mother's name". Incidentally, my mom's name means 'pure', and she is actually named after the Princess Catherine of Aragon (Aragon being a province in Spain, where I'm sure my family hails from, and my grandma's maiden name). Sadly, though, my name, Trinette, in and of itself, has no specific meaning.

Though today, I discovered a juicy little tidbit about my name. It has literary reference. By Charlotte Bronte no less!

Yes, my name was the name of one of her characters, in one of her most critically acclaimed works, a three volume novel entitled Villette.

I was thrilled upon discovering this, and quickly searched the entire book for any and all references. Seems they are all confined to chapter ten, in reference to a French Nursemaid, yes, my namesake.

And being the cultural snob that I am, nay, even a literary snob, I was thrilled to the bone about this discovery. I'm named after (or so I will tell myself for years to come) a mysterious character in a Charlotte Bronte novel. A three volume novel nonetheless. I couldn't be more ecstatic than if I was a character in an Oscar Wilde play!!

Come on, doesn't that sound wonderful???

The Landlord... Or A Good Enough Reason To Have Kids!

What This World Is Coming To

"If I were a parent"....oh dear God, that phrase crossed my lips at least 25 times this weekend, and ran through my mind at least a hundred more. Good thing I am not.

I can't help it. I'm getting older, and as someone kindly observed at breakfast this weekend, I have a thing for "high manners". So, I naturally think to myself that half the kids I know are hooligans, and the other half are probably just psychopaths who hide it very well. (Come on, not really!)

Don't get me wrong, I love kids. When we can sit and converse and they tell me what they're learning in school, or when they say funny things and look cute. And I adore babies. Babies are awesome, but babies don't talk yet, and you can give them back when they get fussy. I must've held Ole Skrein a million times this weekend, and every time I could not give him back. The looks on his face, his big expressive blue eyes. The way a little smile lights up.....ok I'll stop.

To the real reason for this post!

Anyways, today, as I was catching up on some of my favorite blogs, Ubermilf included, I ran across this site for "Bargain Prom Dresses" and I just had to laugh.**

Because, if I were a parent, I would want my kids to learn English from the writer of this website. And I quote

"your girlfriends may be looking for inexpensive prom dresses and actually end up with sexy evening gownsor designer evening gowns that look like very elegant evening gowns. When you go to the prom and display sexy evening gowns your friends in their designer evening gowns and their elegant evening gowns will surprise you since they said they were going to come in inexpensive prom dresses. Evening gowns make you feel beautiful. Elegant evening gowns make you feel elegant. Designer evening gowns make you feel rich. Sexy evening gowns make you feel sexy."

Just think, same person that wrote that, somewhere else in the website posted this Pulitzer winning little snippet:

"Lingerie is something that you shop for after you get the gown. You can look for prom lingerie and get wholesale lingerie and it can look like expensive lingerie and nonetheless it will still be prom lingerie. Trashy lingerie is often plus size lingerie but that doesn't mean it isn't beautiful and looks like prom lingerie. Plus size lingerie comes in many forms of prom lingerie everything from vintage prom lingerie to wholesale lingerie you can always get discount lingerie at a great price and will look fabulous. Prom lingerie will finish off any prom gown whether it is trashy lingerie or wholesale lingerie or plus size lingerie. Lingerie sometimes can look like trashy lingerie but when you wear prom lingerie it will be pretty"

Are there classes to learn to write like that? Sign me up!!

Even more shocking, though, than the writing skills on this site, are the clothes they are hocking. Because, if I were a parent, I would totally encourage my teenage daughter to order a dress that costs as much as my rent, and will transform her instantly into either a drag queen or a hooker, or better yet, both.

Good Lord, who makes this crap!! Better yet, who buys it?? If I were a parent, and my child ever wanted to wear anything remotely resembling any of the outfits on this site, I would die of sheer horror, and in my last will and testament they would get the chewing out of their life, regarding modesty, class, and style.

This is assuming that, if I were a parent, my children would ever even want to wear anything this horrible. I mean, come on, they would be my children after all. Is style hereditary? Does it skip a generation (scary mental image of my mom looking like a bag lady in that dilapidated old mumu, men's white sweat socks and cheap Payless Birkenstock knockoffs).

What if I marry a man, a wonderful man, who in all his wonderfulness, and with all his absolutely stellar qualities, can't dress himself? I mean, if we were serious and in love, actions would be taken. He in all his wonderfulness and wisdom would concede that one of the reasons he married me was because, with the gentleness of a lamb and the love of all things good and holy, I managed to make him over into a fashionably acceptable member of society, all the while loving him for who he was inside and never once offending his sensibilities, scoring him a promotion at work in the process.

In any case, hopefully, if I were a parent, my children would never choose such hideous, terror invoking, rags of polyester in which to barely cover themselves. But if they did, well, I don't know. I haven't thought that far. After all, fortunately for society, and the children that are yet to be out there, I am not a parent.

** Just a warning to you male readers out there, if you're going to visit this site, please know that I have warned you that some of the outfits are pretty revealing. I don't want to be responsible for the burning of your eyes with red hot pokers that will occur as you witness these Modesty Travesties.
Thanks!!

Where I'm At....In Case You Were Wondering

Dormant/ˈdɔrmənt/adjective
1. lying asleep or as if asleep; inactive, as in sleep; torpid
2. in a state of rest or inactivity; inoperative; in abeyance:

It was a long weekend, with a lot of people. A LOT of people. I hadn't really wanted to go to the HCC Spring Retreat this year, after all that's been going on in my life, being around that many people, happy people, was the last thing that sounded good to me. But I kept telling myself that I could hang with my small group, and that I should honor the sacrifice that S & C made for me to be there.

So I went.

And it was ok. But I didn't really get much out of the theme, "Divine Direction". I am no closer now to knowing what God's plan is for my life than I was a month ago, or a week ago, or two days ago.

(I do know that I cannot ever date or marry a man who does not know how to be a good navigator. Speaking of divine directions, we got lost on the way up, and it's a good thing J & I are just friends because it would have been a break up if we were more.)

But what I did find out this weekend, spiritually, is that I am at a place where I have nothing to give to God. I have nothing at all, barely the worship I can muster out of obedience for who He is. I am solely reliant upon Him to do anything with me at all. Including spark desire in my heart for a stronger relationship with Him. I am dormant.

It was hard for me to be around Hopesters this weekend. What with all their "Praise God"'s and "Hallelujah"'s, arms waving, feet tapping, nary a gloomy folk in the bunch. I am in a less joyful mood these days. I do not deny that I have reason to be thankful, and in many things I am still thankful. But a lot of what has annoyed me recently is the sacharine sweet smiles and generic encouragement that people seem to be ready to spew. Instead of listening, really listening, and not judging, someone who is "in the valley of the shadow of death" spiritually right now, people can be quick to pat your back, smile and remind you that "Jesus loves you". DUR!

If I know anything, trust anything, believe anything, at all, right now, it is this. Yeah, Jesus does love me. And He wants to show me. And He wants a relationship with me. And He will return one day to take me home, where He has been waiting for me, His beloved, for a long, long time. I love that Jesus. I have not forgotten that, nor do I need to be reminded of that. It is the one thing that I can count on and rest firm in during a time when I don't know what else to believe besides that.

But the thing is, I do not know what else to believe besides that. I am at a loss, confused and shaken by lies and attack. I am tired, emotionally, and just want the rest of a "green pasture", some "still waters" and a "banquet in the midst of my enemies". I know this promise is mine, but I need a little more prodding by His rod and staff to get there yet. I trust that He is my Good Shepherd and that when I can barely stay on my sheepy, smelly little feet, He will move me in the way He wants me to go. I trust in the God that gave His life for me. What the details look like, I don't know.

But, I am comforted by the recollection of this verse, this weekend:

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.” Jeremiah 31:3-4

I am quietly filled with a small amount of joy at the remembrance that God's promises are for me. This verse is for me! Though I am sad, and am going through this tough time, He will restore me. In an even greater sense, as I face the beginning of the opening of Pandora's Box, in figuring out some things in my life, I can trust that the end result will be restoration. He will build me up again, and cause me to be joyful. That kind of joy, the kind that stems from hard work, energy, pain, sorrow and trials, and is the result of God's work in my life, will mean more to me than any giddiness or whoop-dee-dooing that I may be missing out on now.

I can't wait, O God, for You to restore my zeal for You. To restore my joy in You. For You to build up again this woman You have allowed to be torn down, and for Your vessell to be one of honor, that I might serve You and love You!

For all of you who may have thought I'm just a spiritual curmudgeon this weekend, that's where I'm at.

Off To Camp

Is it that time already? Time for the Hope All-Church Retreat? It seems like 2006's was a million years ago, and yet, I know it rolls around pretty quick.

So this year I scored, and instead of having to plan all the Children's Activities & Curriculum, I get to work with Steve Rentz on all the fun stuff - the Free Time Activities. We've got some bang up ideas planned, like Jenga with Consequences, Nighttime Capture the Flag, and a lot of game tournaments. Plus, Steve got us a Karaoke machine and one of those Gladiator jousting inflatable doohicky's. WOW!

Is it sad to say, though, that I just want to bring a book up there and relax? I am so tired, from working at the bakery, and planning this thing, and all kinds of other stuff that still is going in with Hope. The introvert in me doesn't even want to be around people. Being in a crowd of people, asking questions, wanting to talk and hang out, is the last thing that sounds appealing to me. I have become accustomed to just having a lot more quiet time, time to myself, lately. And that's how I like it.

YIKES!

Well, in any case, my wonderful small group is going, and I don't mind hanging out with them one bit. Or the Baileys, or Skreins, or Kirst and the kids. Oops, that's supposed to be a surprise. Hehehe.

Well in any case, I better get going. I have to go clean out my trunk so there's room for us all today, and then get to work. It's going to be a busy day!

How Fun Was My Easter?

I don't know, but by the looks of it, pretty darn fun. You tell me.

100 Things. We're Wrapping This Up!

Ok, who knew that writing 100 Things You Didn't Know About Me would take a year? I guess I didn't. Thanks Brooke, for the heads up!

So, here goes nothing. My best attempt to get 'er done in one post. Just 50 to go. (Cute pup huh? See #'s 88& 89)

100. I'm a commitment-phobe. Yeah, you heard me, I'm afraid of commitment.
99. I like cold pizza more than the warmed up stuff. I'll eat it for breakfast any day.
98. I could live in bed. Read there, write there, sleep there, watch TV there. My bed is my favorite place. All those pillows!
97. I'm afraid of being judged. Even writing #98, I'm afraid of what people are going to think.
96. I have a black thumb. I can't garden to save my life. I kill all plants.
95. I like earthquakes. I mean, I grew up with them, and I don't mind them that much really. I like to feel the earth move beneath my feet.
94. I love roller coasters, but I'm a little chicken at first.
93. As with roller coasters, and a lot of things, I'm a little chicken at first. But once I actually do something I'm afraid of, a couple times, say two or three, I gain courage, am ok with it, and can do it over and over again. I just need a little patience, and a little time.
92. But if there really is something I've tried, and I can't do, for fear or phobia (swim with dolphins, rock climbing walls), any "motivation" to try to get me to do it will only piss me off. Seriously, your persistent asking is doing nothing more than annoying me, and making me feel really uncomfortable, so stop already and respect my decision!
91. I've was in love with the same guy for the last two years, and we don't even talk anymore. He breaks my heart.
90. I wish I came from a different family.
89. I want a dog, real bad.
88. I had a dog once, his name was Milford. One day while I was at work, my grandpa took him to the pound, without me knowing, because he was an asshole, my grandpa. When I got home from work, and found out, I cried inconsolably. Then I called around to every pound in the city, and when I finally found him, two days later, it was too late. He was already put down.
87. When I have kids, I will never treat them the way my family has treated me.
86. I have a hard time seeing God as a good father. Wonder why?
85. Yet, I know He loves me. I have no doubt that nothing will ever tear me from His hand.
84. It's one of the few points in my faith I can cling to with complete assurance.
83. Other things, like church involvement, or my call in ministry, I'm not so sure of.
82. I hate feeling trapped. The minute I feel trapped, I want to run, long, hard and wide. RUN!
81. When I think of running, I think of small towns in middle America. And road trips.
80. I like country music. But not all of it.
79. I know all the words to Baby Got Back, and sing along whenever it comes on. Heeehee
78. I don't trust a lot of people.
77. I once dated a man 17 years older than me. We still talk and are great friends. He understood me like no one else.
76. Now all I seem to meet are younger guys. Mrs. Robinson Syndrome.
75. I have seen the Gypsy Kings in concert four times.
74. I can salsa dance, but rarely do.
73. I adore garlic.
72. I once laughed so hard I peed my pants..
71. I'm afraid of becoming a diabetic.
70. I used to tan, a lot.
69. I've always wanted porcelain skin, however.
68. I think Jennifer Connelly is the most beautiful, talented woman alive.
67. I adore Brittish men. Clive Owen. Paul Bettany. Hugh Grant. Hmm, maybe it's just the accent.
66. I used to nanny, for a family with six kids. One of them had cerebral palsy.
65. I sometimes speak with a funny accent when no one's around.
64. Sometimes I do it around choice friends.
63. I am bad at keeping in touch with people who move away.
62. I have over 40 pairs of shoes.
61. In times of crisis, I become paralyzed, and can't speak or scream.
60. I've been mugged three times.
59. I've been to every mall in every town I've ever lived in.
58. In my cell phone, I give my student loan collectors code names, so I know it's them when they call.
57. I love board games, and can get extremely competitive.
56. Sometimes I lie.
55. I just want to be adored.
54. Seriously, I do. By a man who will treat me like a princess, and love me faithfully.
53. I have no tolerance for infidelity. It is the one sin in marriage I could not get over.
52. I trust in God, that He has a plan for my life that is His absolute best for me.
51. If it never happens, I will believe that His will is sovereign, and that He is worthy of my praise.

Post Script

P.S. I can't believe the pity party I was having on the way home tonight. I have a confession - I stopped and bought a pack of smokes, and had one on the way home, singing to Sheryl Crow, singing my heart out and smoking because I was searching for something that would allow me to both rebel and console. URGH! I feel gross! What was I thinking? I wasn't. I was thinking of him. Not myself, and that's what got me into this mess in the first place. Stupid girl!