I haven't written in almost a MONTH. a month. Sheesh. (But I was kinda busy. Not an excuse, I know. But I'm going to try and parlay it for one. 'Kay? Good.)
Also, my camera is on the fritz. Circling the drain. Headed south. That is, I've no pictures of our new abode as of yet. And I don't think you would want to see anyway because there's still boxes everywhere and pictures leaning against walls and a general disarray that lends no beauty to photographs. Unless it's like hipster messy. You know, like when artists are featured on a blog and they are trying to come across as so cool they don't even care if their bed is unmade? Yeah. It's not even like that.
Since the earlier part of May, aka the alleged date of my last post, we've done a lot of things. Even things before then that I didn't blog about. Like go see Noah graduate and get commissioned as an officer in the Navy. That was at the end of April. I didn't even tell you! Shoot. It was awesome. I loved America before, but boy do I love her now. Brought a tear to my eye. And I'm so proud of my big brother. So proud.
And then we moved. A week-long logistical extravaganza, you might say, that ended in sunny Charleston, SC. Since that day, Andrew has set a date for his master's defense and his start date at WMI. I've started full time at the hospital. (Hooray!) We've joined and plugged in to St. Andrew's City Church (total awesomeness). I helped throw a supercute (if I do say so myself) baby shower for Summer in Hendersonville. We celebrated two years of marriage (woot!). We're on the waiting list for a puppy (be. still. my. heart.) We've been to the beach, grilled out, gone for long walks, watched movies, hung out with friends, and generally enjoyed summertime and togetherness. It's been so good. This is the life. One evening after dinner we were just chatting and cleaning up and really came to the realization of how good we have it. We have it so good. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you and Amen.
So now. Here's the goal over the next few weeks.
1. Finish the house. Maybe not like tooootally finish, but hang the rest of the pictures and get organized. You know. A house that's a home is never really finished, right?
2. Go to the beach 100 million times. This one's priority.
3. Paint some furniture. Pretty excited about this one.
4. Rest and enjoy life with my love.
It's a pretty good list. Not too lofty, but a few goals that need motivation and motion behind them. I've got a few other goals for the summer though, including but not limited to:
1. Purchasing a beach cruiser.
2. Obtaining some new furniture. I've got a list. It's a long one. Probably won't get it all this summer, but maybe a few pieces.
3. Couch to 5k.
4. Fishing
5. Make one of the more complicated homemade ice cream recipes with our ice cream maker.
6. Sew new throw pillows with some leftover fabric. Recycling. Ah.
7. Read books that make me smarter. But also that I enjoy.
8. Write a new song. Haven't done this in a while, but I think I'd like to give it a shot.
9. Beg, borrow, steal or buy a new camera. Hopefully not steal. That would be trouble.
10. Make more trips to GoodWill. Simplify is a good word to think on.
11. Keep up with blogging! YES!
Like I said, not limited to. And since I'm the editor of this list I can, of course, edit things out. Or in. :) I like being editor.
So there you have it. A small summary, but hopefully has y'all up to speed. Two things before I go:
1. I'm obsessed with Pinterest.
2. Congratulations and best wishes to Zach and Cristin on their engagement!!! Love you guys and can't wait to celebrate with y'all!
Arrivederci!
Showing posts with label Workin' like a dog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Workin' like a dog. Show all posts
1.11.2011
Better late?
Wait.
...
It's 2011?
What just happened?
Last I checked I was squaring up a rotund, homegrown pumpkin on my front stoop, craning my neck to see if the October issue of Martha was in my postman's hot little hand.
And there it came and there it went. And ThanksgivingChristmasandNewYear's rolled by right along with it.
I wouldn't say that 2010 was a bad year, either. It was fraught with good times and tough times, elation and despair, frustration and epiphany. January through August, which seem like eons ago, were spent grasping for a nursing job, whilst the summer was whiled away making-over the greater Southpoint area at the nations most user-friendly cosmetic store. [Would you like to sign up for two free issues of InStyle magazine?] And then came the job offer that was both impossible and incredible in the same breath. Scrubs, stethoscope, and a full tank of gas, I headed south for the winter. Well, three days a week at least.
One thing I've learned in my sage 24 years of life is that things rarely go as planned. Plans are for the birds. Plans are unmet expectations waiting to happen. Disappointment in the flesh. Do I sound jaded? I don't mean to be. I'm declaring the folly of plans, not the futility of hope, mind you. Hopes are altogether different than plans. Hopes are born of God, plans are ferreted out my me, myself, and I. To hope is to trust. To plan is to control. And to contrive to control is to cater to that niggling little part of me that doesn't hope, trust, or persevere. To give over to the bully who mutters in a huff, "if you want it done right, do it yourself!" is to deny the sovereignty of my Maker. Do I really think I know better? Sheesh.
And so 2011, I relinquish my resolutions, my plans, my deadlines.
But I will keep tight hold of Hope, tucked in my heart and held by a string.
...
It's 2011?
What just happened?
Last I checked I was squaring up a rotund, homegrown pumpkin on my front stoop, craning my neck to see if the October issue of Martha was in my postman's hot little hand.
And there it came and there it went. And ThanksgivingChristmasandNewYear's rolled by right along with it.
I wouldn't say that 2010 was a bad year, either. It was fraught with good times and tough times, elation and despair, frustration and epiphany. January through August, which seem like eons ago, were spent grasping for a nursing job, whilst the summer was whiled away making-over the greater Southpoint area at the nations most user-friendly cosmetic store. [Would you like to sign up for two free issues of InStyle magazine?] And then came the job offer that was both impossible and incredible in the same breath. Scrubs, stethoscope, and a full tank of gas, I headed south for the winter. Well, three days a week at least.
One thing I've learned in my sage 24 years of life is that things rarely go as planned. Plans are for the birds. Plans are unmet expectations waiting to happen. Disappointment in the flesh. Do I sound jaded? I don't mean to be. I'm declaring the folly of plans, not the futility of hope, mind you. Hopes are altogether different than plans. Hopes are born of God, plans are ferreted out my me, myself, and I. To hope is to trust. To plan is to control. And to contrive to control is to cater to that niggling little part of me that doesn't hope, trust, or persevere. To give over to the bully who mutters in a huff, "if you want it done right, do it yourself!" is to deny the sovereignty of my Maker. Do I really think I know better? Sheesh.
And so 2011, I relinquish my resolutions, my plans, my deadlines.
But I will keep tight hold of Hope, tucked in my heart and held by a string.
11.29.2010
Growing Pains
Ow.
Oy.
Ughhhhh.
It's as if a torturous seamstress has threaded her fiery needle through each of my shoulder blades to draw them together, tightly, tightly.
It's as if bathroom breaks are a luxury, a bonus, a plus.
It's as if crumbling mascara and crumbling composure were part of the job description.
It's as if a mean-spirited cobbler inlaid my arches with cobble stones rather than mounds of supportive cushioning.
It's as if my calves had spent all day pirouetting without my knowledge until that fateful moment of alighting on a chair for the first time all shift.
It's as if a trickster barista brewed my brew without the zing of caffeine to ensure my second visit of the day.
It's as if my figurer will go on figurin' until somebody hits the lights. My brain does not stop when my badge swipes the clock.
It's as if I will never blow dry my hair or stay up late or wear normal clothes again.
It's as if I were a nurse, or some such thing.
For every ache, I am thankful.
For every complaint, there is a gut check.
Hard earned exhaustion is the unction, the ointment, of searing unemployment.
And I wear it well, and am thankful.
1The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me,
Because the LORD has anointed me
To bring good news to the afflicted;
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
To proclaim liberty to captives
And freedom to prisoners;
2To proclaim the favorable year of the LORD
And the day of vengeance of our God;
To comfort all who mourn,
3To grant those who mourn in Zion,
Giving them a garland instead ofashes,
The oil of gladness instead ofmourning,
The mantle of praise instead of aspirit of fainting
So they will be called oaks of righteousness,
The planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified. [Isaiah 61]
Oy.
Ughhhhh.
It's as if a torturous seamstress has threaded her fiery needle through each of my shoulder blades to draw them together, tightly, tightly.
It's as if bathroom breaks are a luxury, a bonus, a plus.
It's as if crumbling mascara and crumbling composure were part of the job description.
It's as if a mean-spirited cobbler inlaid my arches with cobble stones rather than mounds of supportive cushioning.
It's as if my calves had spent all day pirouetting without my knowledge until that fateful moment of alighting on a chair for the first time all shift.
It's as if a trickster barista brewed my brew without the zing of caffeine to ensure my second visit of the day.
It's as if my figurer will go on figurin' until somebody hits the lights. My brain does not stop when my badge swipes the clock.
It's as if I will never blow dry my hair or stay up late or wear normal clothes again.
It's as if I were a nurse, or some such thing.
For every ache, I am thankful.
For every complaint, there is a gut check.
Hard earned exhaustion is the unction, the ointment, of searing unemployment.
And I wear it well, and am thankful.
1The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me,
Because the LORD has anointed me
To bring good news to the afflicted;
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
To proclaim liberty to captives
And freedom to prisoners;
2To proclaim the favorable year of the LORD
And the day of vengeance of our God;
To comfort all who mourn,
3To grant those who mourn in Zion,
Giving them a garland instead of
The oil of gladness instead of
The mantle of praise instead of a
So they will be called oaks of righteousness,
The planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified. [Isaiah 61]
10.10.2010
Hearth & H o m e
Staring down the barrel of the monthiversary of my auspicious employment, I will say it has flown by. As well as, dragged on. Lord, help us get through this year. But not just get through it. To savor it. Because as I have learned the Lesson of who I Am, somewhere between the Holy City and the City on a Hill, I will [am] learn[ing] where, exactly, my Home is. And one thing is for sure, for real: home is not a place, a house, an apartment, a city, or state. It's a feeling. It's an easy breath. A place of belonging. Peace. Comfort. Restfulness. Security. Trust. And I only know One place like that.
Today, the tenth of October. Sunday night. The fuzzy place between weekend and workweek. Laundry is done, scrubs are ready. I still need a fabulous picture of Andrew and me for my locker. I'm thinking towards all of the humdrum and all of the excitement this week holds. Which is how it should be. We're not quite ready to digitally reveal our newest home [little "h"] but here's a sneak peak at the front door:
Potential. Other than the "lead paint" clause in the contract, it's nearly perfect. ;) That is to say, it has character. I'm heading up on Wednesday to push full-steam ahead and try to "finish" it by the time I leave for work next week, so hopefully, we'll have pictures to post sometime in the near future. And by "we" I mean me. It's an illusion of my own design that Andrew has anything to do whatsoever with this blog. Other than, of course, he is many times the subject matter. Bless him. And as far as the Big Reveal goes, this isn't Extreme Makeover--it's our same ol' stuff in a new-to-us place. So while you're holding your breath, I won't hold it against you if you cheat and breathe through your nose a little bit.
Today, the tenth of October. Sunday night. The fuzzy place between weekend and workweek. Laundry is done, scrubs are ready. I still need a fabulous picture of Andrew and me for my locker. I'm thinking towards all of the humdrum and all of the excitement this week holds. Which is how it should be. We're not quite ready to digitally reveal our newest home [little "h"] but here's a sneak peak at the front door:
9.27.2010
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...
Except this ain't Paris.
I don't believe in the mountaintop--valley undulation of life. I believe that there are always good things and hard things happening in a person's life at the same time. There are always things to be thankful for. And things to pray fervently for. Things to cry about. Things to laugh about. The principal drivers of this concept, however, are perspective and disposition. You can always look at the bright side, denying that any wrong ever overtook you. Or you can be Debbie Downer and latch on to the negative aspects of any situation and deem your scenario doomed from the start. I hope to be neither, but with God's grace and wisdom, praise Him for the blessings and ask for strength and perseverance during trials and tribulations. Yes, Lord and Amen.
Of course. Here I am, two weeks in to my new job and nomadic lifestyle, missing my husband and my old, "comfortable" life terribly. I understand now, why God was so frustrated with the Israelites for wanting to go back to Egypt. They had forgotten all that He had done and all of the promises He fulfilled. Yes, three days after witnessing the miraculous parting of the Red Sea, having nothing to drink, they looked at each other in dismay and said, "What shall we drink???" I think God may have said something along the lines of, "what the...?"
Two weekends ago, (which seems like an eternity!), Andrew and I packed up our apartment and moved 15 minutes up the road to good ol' Chapel Hill. Sounds simple, right? WRONG. It's amazing how much CRAPOLA one can accumulate in a year. All occasion cards and seasonal decorations. Bills and coupons. Office supplies and camping gear. Not to mention furniture. Oy vey! It was just the two of us and because of my schedule we had basically 36 workable hours to get everything packed, moved, and unpacked to a livable state. Friday night, Saturday day and evening, Sunday morning and early afternoon. It was hellacious. There's no other word. We were both tired to begin with and we just didn't realize how much stuff we had. Plus, since we hadn't seen each other in a week we really just wanted to relax and hang out. And I had a bad attitude. Whoops? Sorry, Andrew. Anyway, we did get everything done, just in the nick of time. We even got our monstrous couch in the narrow front door by removing the screen door, the front door, the couch legs, and pushing and pulling like freakin' lumberjacks with one of those big ol' toothy saws! YEAH! A big ol' toothy saw! Ahem. We got the couch in without [really] damaging anything. Much.
So, we moved from here to there, from hither to thither. When I get off of work on Thursday, I will be going home to hopefully put our little bungalow to rights, so that we have a comfy, cozy, albeit teensy-weensy, apartment to call casita. Pray for us.
In other news, Brad and Cory got hitched this weekend in a beautiful, God-filled ceremony in Hendersonville, NC.
Yay for weddings and yay for marriage! Cowabunga, dudes. I gotta go to sleep.
I don't believe in the mountaintop--valley undulation of life. I believe that there are always good things and hard things happening in a person's life at the same time. There are always things to be thankful for. And things to pray fervently for. Things to cry about. Things to laugh about. The principal drivers of this concept, however, are perspective and disposition. You can always look at the bright side, denying that any wrong ever overtook you. Or you can be Debbie Downer and latch on to the negative aspects of any situation and deem your scenario doomed from the start. I hope to be neither, but with God's grace and wisdom, praise Him for the blessings and ask for strength and perseverance during trials and tribulations. Yes, Lord and Amen.
Of course. Here I am, two weeks in to my new job and nomadic lifestyle, missing my husband and my old, "comfortable" life terribly. I understand now, why God was so frustrated with the Israelites for wanting to go back to Egypt. They had forgotten all that He had done and all of the promises He fulfilled. Yes, three days after witnessing the miraculous parting of the Red Sea, having nothing to drink, they looked at each other in dismay and said, "What shall we drink???" I think God may have said something along the lines of, "what the...?"
Two weekends ago, (which seems like an eternity!), Andrew and I packed up our apartment and moved 15 minutes up the road to good ol' Chapel Hill. Sounds simple, right? WRONG. It's amazing how much CRAPOLA one can accumulate in a year. All occasion cards and seasonal decorations. Bills and coupons. Office supplies and camping gear. Not to mention furniture. Oy vey! It was just the two of us and because of my schedule we had basically 36 workable hours to get everything packed, moved, and unpacked to a livable state. Friday night, Saturday day and evening, Sunday morning and early afternoon. It was hellacious. There's no other word. We were both tired to begin with and we just didn't realize how much stuff we had. Plus, since we hadn't seen each other in a week we really just wanted to relax and hang out. And I had a bad attitude. Whoops? Sorry, Andrew. Anyway, we did get everything done, just in the nick of time. We even got our monstrous couch in the narrow front door by removing the screen door, the front door, the couch legs, and pushing and pulling like freakin' lumberjacks with one of those big ol' toothy saws! YEAH! A big ol' toothy saw! Ahem. We got the couch in without [really] damaging anything. Much.
 |
| The chaos. PS, Thanks, Ulta, for all the boxes. And a great summer. |
In other news, Brad and Cory got hitched this weekend in a beautiful, God-filled ceremony in Hendersonville, NC.
 |
| The newly minted Coopers! |
9.25.2010
Five Second Rule
It seems like that's the governing principal in my life right now. That I'm only in one place for five seconds at a time. In the last two weeks I have been from Charleston to Chapel Hill to Hendersonville and back again what seems like a bazillion times. Which is, truly, a very large number.
And I'm the one who signed up for it. And it's okay. So far, I love my job. It's not okay that I get to see my husband only on the weekends and that we feel like we have to be "doing something" in order to be using our time wisely, (you know, instead of grocery shopping, cleaning, watching movies...living "normal" life", if you will). But alas, there is a season and a time for every purpose under heaven. Not sure which season and time this is, but undoubtedly, we will look back and be able to pinpoint God's faithfulness and sustenance in our lives. Cuz He's just like that, you know? Yup.
Anyhow, TODAY is Brad and Cory's wedding and Andrew and I couldn't be more thrilled to be surrounded by family and friends again! The string of common weddings has gone from a steady stream to a dwindling trickle, though. We've got to come up with other reasons to see our Clemson family! Reasons that don't involve high heels. Just sayin'.
Anyhow, as Ol' George G. used to say, "Life is just a bowl of cherries, so live and laugh at it all".
Welp, I've got to go get ready to be a program giver-outer lady. High heels, and all. Ciao!
PS--I'll [hopefully] be able to post more on the move and my job later. I just, you know, had five seconds to write a quick blurb. Stay tuned.
And I'm the one who signed up for it. And it's okay. So far, I love my job. It's not okay that I get to see my husband only on the weekends and that we feel like we have to be "doing something" in order to be using our time wisely, (you know, instead of grocery shopping, cleaning, watching movies...living "normal" life", if you will). But alas, there is a season and a time for every purpose under heaven. Not sure which season and time this is, but undoubtedly, we will look back and be able to pinpoint God's faithfulness and sustenance in our lives. Cuz He's just like that, you know? Yup.
Anyhow, TODAY is Brad and Cory's wedding and Andrew and I couldn't be more thrilled to be surrounded by family and friends again! The string of common weddings has gone from a steady stream to a dwindling trickle, though. We've got to come up with other reasons to see our Clemson family! Reasons that don't involve high heels. Just sayin'.
Anyhow, as Ol' George G. used to say, "Life is just a bowl of cherries, so live and laugh at it all".
Welp, I've got to go get ready to be a program giver-outer lady. High heels, and all. Ciao!
PS--I'll [hopefully] be able to post more on the move and my job later. I just, you know, had five seconds to write a quick blurb. Stay tuned.
9.08.2010
Labor Day is an opposite day, cuz no one goes to work.
Except me. I had to work on Labor Day. At the ungodly hour of six am, so in light of that sitch, Andrew and I celebrated our holiday on Sunday. We went to the Eno River State Park and frolicked around the historical sights and had a picnic on the riverbank. And wished we had a puppy. Nonetheless, we still had a fun time in the perfectly temperate weather learning some history about this place we call home.
We really had a very relaxing time, hanging out, poking around the park, eating our PB&J picnic lunch, tossing the frisbee, and leaving all of our cares behind. :) State Parks are very under appreciated in mi opinion.
Moving on, quite literally. It's starting:
Sadly, not everything we have will fit into our new apartment. Given, we haven't actually tried to fit everything in there yet, however, we're quite sure that the space we're dealing with leaves no room for things that we hardly use, are keeping for sentimental reasons, or can't use yet because we don't live in a house, etc. So, we're going through everything, (and by "we" I mean me), and either getting rid of stuff for good, or boxing things up to store with the 'rents for the next ten-ish months. And they thought they were done with us and our ubiquitous stuff! Muahahaha! That means books, storage bins, "extra" instruments, extra tables and chairs, my old computer and printer, summer clothes, (sob!), and much more has to be taken to my parent's casa with me this weekend. I don't know if all of that can be crammed into Stella's spacious trunk and backseat, but goshdarnit I will try. She'll just have to suck in when I shut the doors.
Honestly, September is going to fly by and I'm not at all sad about it. It's already the eighth and sometime between now and next weekend I've got to start my job and move all in the same chunk of time. We're trying to get situated before Brad and Cory's wedding weekend, (the 25th), because of our timeline of getting out of here and into there: we have to move sooner rather than later which plants our migration right smack in the middle of my two-ish week orientation at the hospital. SWEET. My logic is as follows: because of the move, the job, the wedding, etc, September will be over before I know it and it will be October and officially FALL, which I can hardly complain about. :)
Thank you for reading the above psychobabble that is tumbling around in my head. Basically, I'm ready to get the show on the road. I've got places to go, people to see, and things to do. And I love Fall.
 |
| Looking over the river. |
 |
| Avoiding poison ivy. |
 |
| The Old Mill. Put "Old" in front of anything and you can charge people to come see it. |
 |
| A Mechanical Engineer's dream come true. |
 |
| Happy as a clam! |
Moving on, quite literally. It's starting:
 |
| Rows upon rows of cardboard boxes. |
 |
| Boxes o' books. |
Honestly, September is going to fly by and I'm not at all sad about it. It's already the eighth and sometime between now and next weekend I've got to start my job and move all in the same chunk of time. We're trying to get situated before Brad and Cory's wedding weekend, (the 25th), because of our timeline of getting out of here and into there: we have to move sooner rather than later which plants our migration right smack in the middle of my two-ish week orientation at the hospital. SWEET. My logic is as follows: because of the move, the job, the wedding, etc, September will be over before I know it and it will be October and officially FALL, which I can hardly complain about. :)
Thank you for reading the above psychobabble that is tumbling around in my head. Basically, I'm ready to get the show on the road. I've got places to go, people to see, and things to do. And I love Fall.
9.01.2010
A swiftly tilting planet
Wait, what? Huh? What just happened?
I'm pretty sure that the planet I'm on tilts just a little differently so that everything major happens all at the same time. Read: quitting a job, moving, starting a job {which requires a 4.5 hour "commute"}, Andrew starting Year Two at school, etc. Oh my transition. It's not that I don't like change--I do--at least I think I do. I'm ready to leave this apartment tucked safely in my memory as our First and create Home in a tiny, cheap, new, challenging space. I'm ready to leave the world of cosmetics and hair and beauty and don navy blue scrubs and a Clemson purple stethoscope again. As much as I sometimes want to dig in my heels and yelp, "but this is easier the way it is!", I can't help but note that the transitions, literary climaxes, or the ever-cheesy Michael Jackson-esque key change in books, music, movies are usually the most exciting parts of the piece: where the audience is riveted, moved, watching with rapt attention. I think when change comes our way, God is not just watchful, He's giving a standing ovation, savoring His grace and hard work in our lives. Yes, Lord, and Amen.
As for the logistical bits, Andrew and I are moving our little family into a teensy, tiny apartment close to campus so that Andrew can walk to class and we can save some moola. Sometime in the next month we will be making that arduous 15 minute trek with all of our worldly goods, so if the airwaves go silent, don't worry about us. We'll probably be cramming all of our stuff into the single, cubby hole, non-walk in closet that the space affords. Awesome. Speaking of which, I recently did a massive closet purge, (only on my side, I'm still prodding Andrew to do his), in order to A) get a tax write off (yippieee!) and B) simplify and downsize. Just in time to squish everything into a closet that will barely fit my stuff, let alone Andrew's. Awesome, for the eh-second time-ah. Anyway, you will definitely be seeing organizational/decor updates and whatnot, (don't you love how the world whatnot pretty much covers everything? and whatnot? YES). However, if this planet does spin out of orbit to crash into the moon or something, you may have to hold on to your hats while we get things up and running enough to share.
My brand, spankin' new, big-girl job starts September 13th and will require a 4.5 hour drive from here to there, weekly-ish. My plan for tackling such a commute is pretty loose as of right now, simply because I'm not sure what my schedule will be like and I will know more once the job actually starts. Duh. BUT. I have decided to use my time in the car wisely and listen to audiobooks instead of compulsively pressing the scan button, as many of you know, I likey to do. :) Andrew found this amazingly timely free audiobook app for our iPod--we'd been looking on Amazon and even on UNC's student library, but either they cost an arm and a leg, (i.e. ~$20 range. Yikes.), or there's a "wait list" and you only get them for seven days. Womp, wommmmp. I had to drive down last weekend for pre-employment paperwork and whatnot, (see, you have no idea what that means! They could've made me stand on my head or do the chicken dance in the cafeteria and you'd never know), and on the way there and back I listened to 19 chapters of Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott. Fo' free! I was a little leery of the aforementioned Brit-Lit chunker, but thought I would give it a shot. The worst that could happen is that I hated it, turned it off and went back to my beloved scan button. Ivanhoe is a classic and I've been feeling the need to read something meaty lately. It's awesome. SO GOOD. I-want-to-listen-to-it-right-now good. At first, I was like, "HUHWHAAAT??? Speak American!", but once you listen carefully for a little while you get into Sir Walter's writing language and style and it all starts to come together. I highly recommend it for long, solo car trips.
I'm still praising the Lord for his provision and sovereignty, but you can pray for me for the Mommy-wow-I'm-a-real-nurse-now transition. I'm a leeetle nervous, but confident that His power is made perfect in my weakness ( II Corinthians 12:9) and my transformation will only make Him more famous if I'm the most unlikely candidate for success.
A promise to hold fast:
A promise to hold fast:
5 Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy. 6 They weep as they go to plant their seed but they sing as they return with the harvest. Psalm 126Post script: a very happy birthday to Mrs. Jamie Orr. I love you through and through!
8.17.2010
Save the Date
First day of work: 27 days away.
(Ann Taintor)
First day of Fall: 36 days away.
(Woodnotes)
My birthday: 91 days away.
(le Credit)
Christmas: 129 days away.
(Martha)
So much to look forward to. Life is good.
(Ann Taintor)
First day of Fall: 36 days away.
(Woodnotes)
My birthday: 91 days away.
(le Credit)
Christmas: 129 days away.
(Martha)
So much to look forward to. Life is good.
8.11.2010
When life hands you lemons
It's okay not to make lemonade. Or lemon squares. Or lemon meringue pie. Or any other mouth puckering, sweet dessert that you would serve with a lipsticked smile and an apron. Sometimes it's okay just to look questioningly at the sky and yell, "what's with the lemons??!?!", and then to crumple on the floor in a sour, sticky heap.
But it's not okay to stay there. At some point, you have to muster the strength, the "cojones", as my favorite Alaskan ex-governor would say, to pull yourself up and try to get some perspective. And the perspective from the floor is pretty bleak, I must say. Even when I did get off the floor, I left my lemons in the fruit bowl until they were shriveled and fuzzy with age and decay.
Yesterday, I was offered a job. As a nurse. Many, many prayers answered in one short phone call with a virtual stranger. I was unemployed for fifteen months after graduation and still have a month to go until my start date. A "tough year" is putting it lightly. The difficulties of being newly married with one partner in grad school and the other unemployed are myriad, but they go beyond the bank account to the heart of the matter. My heart.
You see, being unemployed isn't just "having no money", it has a lot of feelings involved, too--ones that I think our society unfairly places on us and says, if you're not gainfully employed, if you don't have a title that tells me who you are, then what, exactly is your point here on this earth?? Well, I was reminded of my "point" here, every day for the last year or so, and sometimes it was with a whisper and sometimes it was with a shout, and sometimes it was with a baseball bat to the occiput. Jesus has reminded me who I am and who I am meant to be--set apart from my career and my finances, my plans, my future. Not that he doesn't care about those things, but he cares about my character much more than he cares about my comfort.
The "joy ahead", though, is not necessarily getting what you want, it's looking back and realizing that you are forever changed. That the Lord's loving discipline has surgically removed the cirrhosed, calcified, gangrenous parts of my heart and he has started the growth of new, healthy, pink, viable tissue. To quote a preacher that was recently in the headlines for making it to the other side of a terrible scandal, "going through something like this makes you become the person you thought you were; the person you always hoped to be."
In no way am I saying that God is done with me. I'm quite sure he's just gotten started, actually. And I didn't do everything right. When setbacks and disappointments came, I cried--bitterly. I pitched fits. I reacted childishly, selfishly, short-sightedly. But eventually I also learned to concede to the Holy Spirit. To yield to heavenly discipline and press into the Father instead of pulling away in anger. That is what has made all the difference in the world. When I was stripped of what I thought was my identity He declared to me who I truly am. When I was anxious and sleepless He whispered His faithfulness to me. When I was frustrated and weary He imparted His patience and perseverance. And so much, much more.
Hope does not disappoint. Hope involves trust and confidence and expectation. Trust that He knows what He's doing. Confidence that He's done it before and expectation that He'll do it again.
So, when life hands you lemons and confection is not an option you'd like to pursue, remember that 1) Jesus loves you. He really, really, really, really, really, really, loves you! And 2) He probably has things in mind for you that don't involve baking, but things that will leave you much more satisfied, whole, confident, joyful, and hopeful. "Trite" and true, but tried and true.
And in closing, I leave you this:
Amen.
An unending thank you to my family and friends for your prayers and encouragement. Don't stop now. ;)
But it's not okay to stay there. At some point, you have to muster the strength, the "cojones", as my favorite Alaskan ex-governor would say, to pull yourself up and try to get some perspective. And the perspective from the floor is pretty bleak, I must say. Even when I did get off the floor, I left my lemons in the fruit bowl until they were shriveled and fuzzy with age and decay.
Yesterday, I was offered a job. As a nurse. Many, many prayers answered in one short phone call with a virtual stranger. I was unemployed for fifteen months after graduation and still have a month to go until my start date. A "tough year" is putting it lightly. The difficulties of being newly married with one partner in grad school and the other unemployed are myriad, but they go beyond the bank account to the heart of the matter. My heart.
You see, being unemployed isn't just "having no money", it has a lot of feelings involved, too--ones that I think our society unfairly places on us and says, if you're not gainfully employed, if you don't have a title that tells me who you are, then what, exactly is your point here on this earth?? Well, I was reminded of my "point" here, every day for the last year or so, and sometimes it was with a whisper and sometimes it was with a shout, and sometimes it was with a baseball bat to the occiput. Jesus has reminded me who I am and who I am meant to be--set apart from my career and my finances, my plans, my future. Not that he doesn't care about those things, but he cares about my character much more than he cares about my comfort.
6 So be truly glad.[b] There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you have to endure many trials for a little while. 7 These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold—though your faith is far more precious than mere gold. So when your faith remains strong through many trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is revealed to the whole world. 1 Peter 1:6-7
The "joy ahead", though, is not necessarily getting what you want, it's looking back and realizing that you are forever changed. That the Lord's loving discipline has surgically removed the cirrhosed, calcified, gangrenous parts of my heart and he has started the growth of new, healthy, pink, viable tissue. To quote a preacher that was recently in the headlines for making it to the other side of a terrible scandal, "going through something like this makes you become the person you thought you were; the person you always hoped to be."
In no way am I saying that God is done with me. I'm quite sure he's just gotten started, actually. And I didn't do everything right. When setbacks and disappointments came, I cried--bitterly. I pitched fits. I reacted childishly, selfishly, short-sightedly. But eventually I also learned to concede to the Holy Spirit. To yield to heavenly discipline and press into the Father instead of pulling away in anger. That is what has made all the difference in the world. When I was stripped of what I thought was my identity He declared to me who I truly am. When I was anxious and sleepless He whispered His faithfulness to me. When I was frustrated and weary He imparted His patience and perseverance. And so much, much more.
3 Not only so, but we[c] also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; 4 perseverance, character; and character, hope. 5 And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. Romans 5:3-4
Hope does not disappoint. Hope involves trust and confidence and expectation. Trust that He knows what He's doing. Confidence that He's done it before and expectation that He'll do it again.
So, when life hands you lemons and confection is not an option you'd like to pursue, remember that 1) Jesus loves you. He really, really, really, really, really, really, loves you! And 2) He probably has things in mind for you that don't involve baking, but things that will leave you much more satisfied, whole, confident, joyful, and hopeful. "Trite" and true, but tried and true.
And in closing, I leave you this:
Amen.
An unending thank you to my family and friends for your prayers and encouragement. Don't stop now. ;)
5.10.2010
Absence makes the heart grow fonder
So, you're all really fond of me, right? Since I haven't been writing, right? Right? It has been many moons since my last post, and even more moons since I wrote about something worthwhile, methinks. This might just have to be a list post.
1. Let's just get this part over with: I did not get the job that I interviewed for back in March. It's a long story that I won't tell because I'm tired of hearing myself say it. Found that out about 2 1/2 weeks ago. Fun times. But, I did get a part time job that starts tomorrow, (and has nothing to do with medicine), that will give me the chance to get out of the house, put my hands to something, and make a little moola. Me likey moola. After all this, I think I'm going to be one tough broad. Not tough as in chewin' 'baccy and foregoing measures of personal hygiene, but tough as in "onward and upward", "keep on keepin' on", "if it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger". Basically, once I get a "real" job, you should keep your distance. ;)
2. My heart was wrapped in Clover--North Carolina, that is. A few weekends ago we celebrated the upcoming wedding of Jamie and Kent at a little bachelorette soiree involving delicious food, sun, gorgeous lingerie, and lots of laughter. And speaking of weddings, many congratulations to Cory and Brad--engaged at last! Love is in the air, my friends. Or something's in the water.
3. Andrew and I have been tearing up the road in the last week. At least tearing up I-95 and I-40. Like ten times. That's what it seems like. But we spent a great Mother's Day weekend with the Armstrongs in Hendersonville, just hanging out and enjoying each other's company. We drove all over the place, saw the fam, played doubles tennis (or tried), and celebrated the goodness of mothers everywhere.
4. Bless your pea-pickin' heart! My friend Grace and I have signed up for a farm share. But we're sharing it. So, we're doing a farm share share. The fancy name for it is "Community Supported Agriculture", or CSA. Basically, we paid Brinkley Farms a flat amount for a summer/fall share, (but we're splitting it since we don't know exactly how much food it is), and every week we pick up a box of our requested fresh-from-the-farm produce at a drop-off location of our choice! They offer 50 different kinds of vegetables, some fuit, fresh eggs, farm raised pork and beef,(no hormones or other craziness added in to "beef" them up, heh heh), and it comes down to about $15 a week--which we spend that much on produce at the grocery store anyway! Not only are we supporting a local farm, but we're getting fresher food, (thousands of miles fresher), and foregoing all the chemicals and other junk sprayed all over grocery store foods. Sounds like a deal to me! Do yourself--and your community--a favor and do a quick google search of farms that offer a CSA program near you. DO IT. You know you want to.
5. I may or may not have killed my Basil. I left it for four days. It is very shriveled and sad looking. I've watered it three times already today in attempt to revive it. I may have to start CPR and mouth to mouth soon. Things are getting hairy. But I mean really. Am I going to ask my neighbor to come over and water my high maintenance Basil while I'm gone? I don't think so. Suck it up, Basil. No, really. Please suck up all the water I've poured over you in the last few hours. Please? Find the will to liiiiiive!
I'm sure there's more. But I've been out of practice for so long it may take a few posts to limber up, if you will. And I will. Oh, I will.
1. Let's just get this part over with: I did not get the job that I interviewed for back in March. It's a long story that I won't tell because I'm tired of hearing myself say it. Found that out about 2 1/2 weeks ago. Fun times. But, I did get a part time job that starts tomorrow, (and has nothing to do with medicine), that will give me the chance to get out of the house, put my hands to something, and make a little moola. Me likey moola. After all this, I think I'm going to be one tough broad. Not tough as in chewin' 'baccy and foregoing measures of personal hygiene, but tough as in "onward and upward", "keep on keepin' on", "if it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger". Basically, once I get a "real" job, you should keep your distance. ;)
2. My heart was wrapped in Clover--North Carolina, that is. A few weekends ago we celebrated the upcoming wedding of Jamie and Kent at a little bachelorette soiree involving delicious food, sun, gorgeous lingerie, and lots of laughter. And speaking of weddings, many congratulations to Cory and Brad--engaged at last! Love is in the air, my friends. Or something's in the water.
3. Andrew and I have been tearing up the road in the last week. At least tearing up I-95 and I-40. Like ten times. That's what it seems like. But we spent a great Mother's Day weekend with the Armstrongs in Hendersonville, just hanging out and enjoying each other's company. We drove all over the place, saw the fam, played doubles tennis (or tried), and celebrated the goodness of mothers everywhere.
4. Bless your pea-pickin' heart! My friend Grace and I have signed up for a farm share. But we're sharing it. So, we're doing a farm share share. The fancy name for it is "Community Supported Agriculture", or CSA. Basically, we paid Brinkley Farms a flat amount for a summer/fall share, (but we're splitting it since we don't know exactly how much food it is), and every week we pick up a box of our requested fresh-from-the-farm produce at a drop-off location of our choice! They offer 50 different kinds of vegetables, some fuit, fresh eggs, farm raised pork and beef,(no hormones or other craziness added in to "beef" them up, heh heh), and it comes down to about $15 a week--which we spend that much on produce at the grocery store anyway! Not only are we supporting a local farm, but we're getting fresher food, (thousands of miles fresher), and foregoing all the chemicals and other junk sprayed all over grocery store foods. Sounds like a deal to me! Do yourself--and your community--a favor and do a quick google search of farms that offer a CSA program near you. DO IT. You know you want to.
5. I may or may not have killed my Basil. I left it for four days. It is very shriveled and sad looking. I've watered it three times already today in attempt to revive it. I may have to start CPR and mouth to mouth soon. Things are getting hairy. But I mean really. Am I going to ask my neighbor to come over and water my high maintenance Basil while I'm gone? I don't think so. Suck it up, Basil. No, really. Please suck up all the water I've poured over you in the last few hours. Please? Find the will to liiiiiive!
I'm sure there's more. But I've been out of practice for so long it may take a few posts to limber up, if you will. And I will. Oh, I will.
3.31.2010
Mt. Kilimanjaro, among other things
Last weekend, I came to somewhere in the middle of Coleman Boulevard and realized I was on the front end of a 10k foot race to the other side of town. Up until that point, I think my brain was still in my nice, warm bed at my parents' casa. I'm not sure if it was some sort of defense mechanism my body whipped up to make sure I actually got out of bed and crossed the starting line, or the fact that I skipped my morning cup o' joe. Either way, the frigid wind (thank you, March, for being total crap) and the thousands and thousands of natives, transplants, and tourists made for a seriously startling morning. Two miles to the bridge, a half a mile straight up the slant side of Mt. Kilimanjaro, a mile or so running with wobbly legs to the pavement downtown, and a few miles left to the finish line where the Kenyans had been chillin' for an hour or so. There's nothing quite as demoralizing as a well rested African munchin' on Chick-fil-a as you cross the finish line almost on your death bed. But, I finished. And I didn't stop. So, check that off until next year.
So....I have some big news. I don't necessarily have a job yet, but I had an interview at UNC yesterday and my impression was that it went very, very well. The "New Graduate" Clinical Nurse I positions don't orient until July and August, but they asked me to come on as a CST for a few months prior--I'm not sure what that technically stands for, but it's a dual role of unit secretary and nursing assistant. Not at the same time, per se, but a few days a week as a nursing assistant and a few days as a unit secretary. Basically, it's a huge opportunity and I'm taking hold of it with both hands!! It will be challenging, no doubt, but I'm ready for a challenge. Thus far, (aside from job searching) my greatest hurdle has been finding my way around town. I don't want my brain to turn to mush. Bring. it. on.
In light of the latest distractions--being out of town and preparing for the interview of a lifetime--our apartment has gone completely to pot. It's gross. I'm embarrassed. I would probably not even crack the door for a delivery man, just implore him to leave his goods on the door mat. The laundry is piled to the ceiling, we've been surviving on pickles, cereal, yogurt, and peanut butter, and the bathroom is giving me the heebie-jeebies. Today, my job is to put on my super-wife cape and welcome my husband home to an apartment rivaling a stepford wife's mansion. It probably (definitely) won't stay that way, but a girl can dream.
Happy last day of March everyone! Don't be fooled tomorrow!
So....I have some big news. I don't necessarily have a job yet, but I had an interview at UNC yesterday and my impression was that it went very, very well. The "New Graduate" Clinical Nurse I positions don't orient until July and August, but they asked me to come on as a CST for a few months prior--I'm not sure what that technically stands for, but it's a dual role of unit secretary and nursing assistant. Not at the same time, per se, but a few days a week as a nursing assistant and a few days as a unit secretary. Basically, it's a huge opportunity and I'm taking hold of it with both hands!! It will be challenging, no doubt, but I'm ready for a challenge. Thus far, (aside from job searching) my greatest hurdle has been finding my way around town. I don't want my brain to turn to mush. Bring. it. on.
In light of the latest distractions--being out of town and preparing for the interview of a lifetime--our apartment has gone completely to pot. It's gross. I'm embarrassed. I would probably not even crack the door for a delivery man, just implore him to leave his goods on the door mat. The laundry is piled to the ceiling, we've been surviving on pickles, cereal, yogurt, and peanut butter, and the bathroom is giving me the heebie-jeebies. Today, my job is to put on my super-wife cape and welcome my husband home to an apartment rivaling a stepford wife's mansion. It probably (definitely) won't stay that way, but a girl can dream.
Happy last day of March everyone! Don't be fooled tomorrow!
2.10.2010
She's got ruby red lips, blonde hair blue eyes, Lord I'm about to bid my heart good-byeeeeee
Law, it's been a month of Sunday's since my last post! Not really, it's just been a week. But, it's been a busy week! Sheesh! Let's see. I don't even know where to start. Today's Wednesday...Hm. Well, Friday I think we stayed home and hung out with each other. Cuz we're cool like that. But, Saturday--Saturday is the reason John Michael Montgomery's lyrics are titling this blog post. Saturday morning I was supposed to go to Ashleigh's wedding shower in Greenville, but the weather was freakin' out again--as it is in the habit of doing, as of late--so I ended up staying home. So, Saturday evening, we went to The Engineers Without Borders Symposium banquet, complete with cocktail attire, a silent auction, a live auction, a bonafide auctioneer, and tiny, unidentifiable hors d'oeuvres. The auction and dinner was obviously to raise money for EWB and to honor those individuals that have put their blood, sweat and tears into making EWB a success. Tables and tables of beautiful crafts and other items from all over the world were auctioned off, and also gift certificates and vouchers from local businesses. It was great to see all the nerds let loose without their lab coats and calculators, too. They just work too hard! ;) Anyway, the auctioneer's name was Charley. And he was very. serious. about. auctions. Very. The auction went something like this:
The crust: chopped pecans, chopped bakers chocolate, brown sugar, vanilla, instant coffee--and a little bit of maaaagic. Mmmm.
Our delicious super bowl meatball subs: with a little cheese, please!
So, there you have it. The last few days I've been babysitting precious little Elise and Will while Nanny Nancy has her baby. Love those kiddos. And Kelly was right. Your luck can change in Candy Land in the blink of an eye--and you'll find yourself canoodling in the Chocolate Swamp while the three year old next to you is frolicking in the Candy Kingdom at the finish line. Such is life. I hope my kids are as bright and energetic as they are some day. (I said, some day. Meaning, a far, far away day in the distant future....riiiight?? Right. Right? Riiiight.)
In other news, I shadowed on the Surgical ICU at UNC Hospital yesterday morning. I know--shadowed. Like I don't know what it's like to be a nurse in a hospital. BUT, it was good to finally go in UNC and see what it's like and get to know some people, aka The Management. I can has a job? Pretty please?? So, anyway, things are in the works and I can feel the Lord oiling the rusty joints on this thing, setting things in motion. And I am thankful. Thankful that God is in control, and not me. Because if I was in control, I might have lost it a long time ago.
So, tonight we've got ignite group, tomorrow hopefully hanging out with Graham and Joanna before they head on to Iowa (gulp. Sad day!), and then the in-laws are a-comin' to town this weekend. Should be a bang up time.
Until then, adios amigos!
Well, folks we have here a one of a kind autographed basketball by Roy Williams and the entire UNC basketball team. Come on, don't pause--it's for a good cause!
Let's start at fiddy. Wouldja bid fiddy? Fiddy wouldja bid? Fiddy dollars up in the front--thanky, sir--Wouldja bid one hunert? Woulja bid one-hunert? one-hunert, one hunert, one hunert? Ma'am in the back--thanky ma'am! Wouldja bid one-fiddy? Wouldja bid one-fiddy? One-fiddy, one-fiddy, one-fiddy--it's for a good cause--one-fiddy, one--thanky sir! Wouldja give two-hunert, wouldja bid two hunert?...Alright, one-fiddy going once, one-fiddy going twice--SOLD! to the gentleman in the yellow bowtie!
And so on. And every time he said one-fiddy or whatever number, he would bounce on his toes in rhythm with the bidding. It was quite a sight. We didn't bid on anything because we're obviously in a more frugal season of life right now, but I just really wanted one of those ping-pong paddles with the numbers on it. Shucks.
So, Sunday was the SUPER BOWLLLL--Geaux Saints! I'm so glad they won. They deserved it. Sorry, Kelly. Sorry, Peyton. Better luck next time. I got into a cooking tizzy and decided to make meatballs and mocha silk pie--both from the P-Dub. She gots it right. I'm telling you, this pie is like WOAH. But here's my version:
The garnish: chopped baker's chocolate. Don't you just love it?! The paper and the stamp on the top makes it feel ol' fashioned to me. And there's my little piggy cutting board that my pops made. A little personality and just right for chopping veggies, fruit--and chocolate.
The crust: chopped pecans, chopped bakers chocolate, brown sugar, vanilla, instant coffee--and a little bit of maaaagic. Mmmm.
Our delicious super bowl meatball subs: with a little cheese, please!
So, there you have it. The last few days I've been babysitting precious little Elise and Will while Nanny Nancy has her baby. Love those kiddos. And Kelly was right. Your luck can change in Candy Land in the blink of an eye--and you'll find yourself canoodling in the Chocolate Swamp while the three year old next to you is frolicking in the Candy Kingdom at the finish line. Such is life. I hope my kids are as bright and energetic as they are some day. (I said, some day. Meaning, a far, far away day in the distant future....riiiight?? Right. Right? Riiiight.)
In other news, I shadowed on the Surgical ICU at UNC Hospital yesterday morning. I know--shadowed. Like I don't know what it's like to be a nurse in a hospital. BUT, it was good to finally go in UNC and see what it's like and get to know some people, aka The Management. I can has a job? Pretty please?? So, anyway, things are in the works and I can feel the Lord oiling the rusty joints on this thing, setting things in motion. And I am thankful. Thankful that God is in control, and not me. Because if I was in control, I might have lost it a long time ago.
So, tonight we've got ignite group, tomorrow hopefully hanging out with Graham and Joanna before they head on to Iowa (gulp. Sad day!), and then the in-laws are a-comin' to town this weekend. Should be a bang up time.
Until then, adios amigos!
12.14.2009
Regular can of 'baccy you say? No, says I.
Lawsie mercy! Well. Currently, I'm house/apartment hunting on Craig's list and simultaneously watching Jennifer Hudson's I'll Be Home for Christmas on ABC. And last night I watched Oprah's Christmas at the White House. I just love Christmas specials. They're special.
So, I'm going to level with you. Got my battery-powered laser beaming level right here and I'm pointing it at your forehead. For those of you wondering--or not wondering--I did not get the ED position at Duke that I interviewed for a few weeks ago. "Bummer" is an understatement. Frustrating? Check. Heart-wrenching? Check. Embarrassing? Check. Baffling? Check. The emotions roiling inside me don't really have names. They have descriptions. Twisting, tumbling, suffocating, squeezing. Yes. That's it. So, I'll soldier on. Applying, applying, applying. Emailing, emailing, emailing. Calling, calling, calling. Praying, praying, praying. It can be exhausting. But I'll trust. I'll trust that He knows best. That maybe I would have hated it. That maybe it just wouldn't have been a good fit. That maybe their scrubs would have made my butt look big. Raise an eyebrow if you like. Scoff if you dare. But I know He knows better than I do. So, I'm okay. Don't feel sorry for me--don't shed one single, dreadful tear. Just keep praying. To God be the glory all the more when I get that exciting phone call.
On a lighter and less life-altering note, Brother Barrett came to visit us this past weekend and boy, did we have fun! We went to Graham and Joanna's first holiday potluck get-together--I made fudge with Craisins and pecans in it and meaty meatballs I found on foodnetwork.com (and subsequently changed the recipe to suit my sophisticated taste buds. Also known as, I added barbecue sauce and brown sugar. and heavy cream. Ummmmm, good. Good, is the word I'm looking for.) We played this hilarious game called Lady in the Garden/Telephone Pictionary. No idea where "Lady in the Garden" came from, but in Telephone Pictionary, you get in a circle and everyone has a pen and paper. First you write something down--anything random--that's the point. Then you pass it to the person beside you and they have to draw it. They then pass their little Picasso to the person next to them and that person has to write what they drew--so by the time your cards get back to you, it's a hilarious flip book of miscommunicated and misinterpreted drawings and scrawlings. And it. is. side-splitting. I highly recommend it at your next soiree.
On Saturday, Andrew and Barrett and I went Christmas shopping at the gargantuan Southpoint Mall--one of my absolute faaavorite things! The mall was teeming with people, all on the hunt for the perfect purchase for that special someone. Moms, Dads, teenagers, kids, babies--strollers, slings, carriers galore! The cuteness was unbearable! And of course, Santa and Santa's Helpers were there taking photographs with the all-but-obliging children. (How much you wanna bet 90% of those little girls had sagging tights?? I'm sure it was a major contributing factor to the orneriness.) So, back to shopping. I love buying presents for people. I try to find things that I would debate keeping for myself, that way I know when I give it to someone they will just melt from the love they feel and the pleasure of getting such a gift! If you want it, they will want it, trust me. It's a tried and true holiday fact. I helped Barrett find something for his "special friend" and I just know that her eyes will shine and her tummy will tingle when she opens her gift! I also helped Andrew and Barrett buy jeans--yet another weird favorite thing of mine. Noah used to take me with him sometimes for a second opinion on those few and far between boy shopping trips. I think that's where my love of helping people find clothes they love was born. And then I worked at the Gap where my love of helping people find clothes was reduced to the number of Gap cards I could hustle in a five hour shift. Kill me. I'm also loving that many of your Christmas gifts are gracing the skirt around the trunk of my tree right this very instant. Makes me feel like y'all are just sittin' right here! But anyway, we had fun. Good times all around. We ate at the Barbecue Joint, a restaurant quickly becoming an Armstrong favorite. We've only been twice, but it is tasty on the tongue! We went to church on Sunday and took the exam for the leadership class Andrew and I have just completed (provided that we pass the exam, of course). You mean, God gives exams?!? Why, yes, he does. Shucks.
Christmas is coming. Eleven more days. Don't be surprised if someone rings your doorbell later and there's eleven Lords a-leaping on your stoop. Your first thought will probably be, "What are all of these royals doing sashaying across my lawn?" And then, you'll know. Christmas is coming.
So, I'm going to level with you. Got my battery-powered laser beaming level right here and I'm pointing it at your forehead. For those of you wondering--or not wondering--I did not get the ED position at Duke that I interviewed for a few weeks ago. "Bummer" is an understatement. Frustrating? Check. Heart-wrenching? Check. Embarrassing? Check. Baffling? Check. The emotions roiling inside me don't really have names. They have descriptions. Twisting, tumbling, suffocating, squeezing. Yes. That's it. So, I'll soldier on. Applying, applying, applying. Emailing, emailing, emailing. Calling, calling, calling. Praying, praying, praying. It can be exhausting. But I'll trust. I'll trust that He knows best. That maybe I would have hated it. That maybe it just wouldn't have been a good fit. That maybe their scrubs would have made my butt look big. Raise an eyebrow if you like. Scoff if you dare. But I know He knows better than I do. So, I'm okay. Don't feel sorry for me--don't shed one single, dreadful tear. Just keep praying. To God be the glory all the more when I get that exciting phone call.
On a lighter and less life-altering note, Brother Barrett came to visit us this past weekend and boy, did we have fun! We went to Graham and Joanna's first holiday potluck get-together--I made fudge with Craisins and pecans in it and meaty meatballs I found on foodnetwork.com (and subsequently changed the recipe to suit my sophisticated taste buds. Also known as, I added barbecue sauce and brown sugar. and heavy cream. Ummmmm, good. Good, is the word I'm looking for.) We played this hilarious game called Lady in the Garden/Telephone Pictionary. No idea where "Lady in the Garden" came from, but in Telephone Pictionary, you get in a circle and everyone has a pen and paper. First you write something down--anything random--that's the point. Then you pass it to the person beside you and they have to draw it. They then pass their little Picasso to the person next to them and that person has to write what they drew--so by the time your cards get back to you, it's a hilarious flip book of miscommunicated and misinterpreted drawings and scrawlings. And it. is. side-splitting. I highly recommend it at your next soiree.
On Saturday, Andrew and Barrett and I went Christmas shopping at the gargantuan Southpoint Mall--one of my absolute faaavorite things! The mall was teeming with people, all on the hunt for the perfect purchase for that special someone. Moms, Dads, teenagers, kids, babies--strollers, slings, carriers galore! The cuteness was unbearable! And of course, Santa and Santa's Helpers were there taking photographs with the all-but-obliging children. (How much you wanna bet 90% of those little girls had sagging tights?? I'm sure it was a major contributing factor to the orneriness.) So, back to shopping. I love buying presents for people. I try to find things that I would debate keeping for myself, that way I know when I give it to someone they will just melt from the love they feel and the pleasure of getting such a gift! If you want it, they will want it, trust me. It's a tried and true holiday fact. I helped Barrett find something for his "special friend" and I just know that her eyes will shine and her tummy will tingle when she opens her gift! I also helped Andrew and Barrett buy jeans--yet another weird favorite thing of mine. Noah used to take me with him sometimes for a second opinion on those few and far between boy shopping trips. I think that's where my love of helping people find clothes they love was born. And then I worked at the Gap where my love of helping people find clothes was reduced to the number of Gap cards I could hustle in a five hour shift. Kill me. I'm also loving that many of your Christmas gifts are gracing the skirt around the trunk of my tree right this very instant. Makes me feel like y'all are just sittin' right here! But anyway, we had fun. Good times all around. We ate at the Barbecue Joint, a restaurant quickly becoming an Armstrong favorite. We've only been twice, but it is tasty on the tongue! We went to church on Sunday and took the exam for the leadership class Andrew and I have just completed (provided that we pass the exam, of course). You mean, God gives exams?!? Why, yes, he does. Shucks.
Christmas is coming. Eleven more days. Don't be surprised if someone rings your doorbell later and there's eleven Lords a-leaping on your stoop. Your first thought will probably be, "What are all of these royals doing sashaying across my lawn?" And then, you'll know. Christmas is coming.
11.24.2009
A list
Being sick is the pits. Being sick on a holiday weekend is an even bigger pit. Being sick during possibly the most important interview of your career is multiple humongous pits. The Boggy Dingle of pits (if you know what I'm talking about, kudos to you. You paid attention in Lit class in high school). I've got a nasty cold, and it just so happens that my number was called in the middle of a bronchial spasm.
This morning I interviewed at Duke Healthcare's Durham Regional Hospital for a nursing position in the Emergency Department. I almost couldn't believe my ears yesterday when the nurse recruiter called and said--and I quote--"are you ready to rock n' roll?" Andrew and I spent last evening strategizing and mock-interviewing. I would consider Andrew and interview expert--from Moorehead to Med school, he knows how to work a crowd. It was definitely a whirlwind, but in a way it was almost better to have less than 24 hours between the phone call and the interview--that way I didn't really have time to get super nervous. I was nervous, though, there's no arguing that. I was sweating like a dog and trying not to cough, or sneeze or gross them out anymore than I probably already was. I'm sure there was a mad-dash for the hand sanitizer as soon as I quit the premises. Anyhow, I should find out soon about the job. You'll be reading about it, I can promise you that.
If this really is the end, the end of this turbid, uncomfortable, stretching, pulling, fertilizing portion of my life, I really can say that I have learned. so. much. A hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. Proverbs 13:12. I have experienced the aching frustration over not having a nursing job. But is has it really been not having a job? Or has it been not being in control, or not having everything work out for me on my time table? Or has it been letting my pride fall down? When we are told to wait by the God of the Universe, some of us have a hard time sitting still and not crossing our eyes and sticking our tongues out at him when he turns his back to his pupils and begins to scrawl on the chalkboard--Yours Truly included. And waiting is one thing, patiently waiting is a whole different ball of wax. Something I heard in a sermon recently really put things in perspective. I truly believe that God is constantly working on our hearts, our attitudes, our spiritual fruit--not our bank accounts, our calendars, etc. Not to say that he doesn't care--just stay with me. If you're not okay before _______, you won't be okay after ________. (Obviously you can fill in the blank as needed). In my case, God was prompting me that if I wasn't okay before being hired, I would not be okay after being hired. If my identity is not in Him, I will always feel inadequate. If my joy doesn't come from Him, I will never feel truly happy. If my security doesn't come from Jehovah Jireh, the Lord our Provider, I will always want more and be scared of being without.
So that's what I've learned. That, and a thousand other things. So, Thanksgiving is in a few days, and we're going to Hendersonville. My parents are meeting us there on Thursday to carve the turkey and stuff ourselves silly. Hopefully, I won't cough all over everyone, and it will be a cheerful affair. I'm pretty excited about the culinary delights on the horizon. Mashed potatoes and gravy. Turkey and stuffing and cranberry chutney. Sweet potato anything. Pumpkin bars. Mmmmmm. It will be different than having the five Smiths crammed in the kitchen cooking and baking all together, only to flop down at the table and devour the feast before us in less than half an hour. I have great memories of Thanksgiving during my childhood. Delicious food--with leftovers, playing games or watching Little Women with the fam, getting our Christmas tree and getting all of the decorations out of the attic. That, and my mom forcing us to go around the table saying what we're thankful for. And all of us trying to be honest without feeling cheesy. So, in light of that, I will go ahead and divulge my list of thanks:
First and foremost, and the most obvious and important circumstance to give thanks for: Jesus, sweet Jesus who gave his life that I may have eternal life
My incredible husband who has committed his life to mine and who is a prayer warrior, a people-lover, and a Christ-follower. For his love for me that is only surpassed by his love for Jesus.
My family and dear friends who have held up my arms in battle, who have taught me to love, laugh, try, try again, sing, dance, dream, and pray.
My college education and the beautiful campus that I roamed for four years. For Lever 9A4, The 'Houn and its drama, the Ridge and its beautiful residents. For purple and white scrubs that were completely see-through when it rained. For the 1-2-3-4 and cadence count. For the most exciting 25 seconds of college football. For the Pleez-u and Palms. For tea time. For FCA and doing two loads of laundry in hopes of a spectacular outfit. For Hilton Head and the bridge run. For bunk beds and cake cookies. For monthly CDs of the soundtrack of our lives. For Ancheaux and lying on the floor to recover. For Target runs. For giant paper mache eggs. For purple and orange being dominant colors in my wardrobe.
Christmas and everything in that sparkly, jolly package.
Jeans. Because I don't know anyone who looks bad in them.
My sweet little Muffin doggie and the 20 years she spent with us.
Americaaaaaaaaaaa!!!
Chocolate. 'Nuff said.
Sweatpants. You know you love 'em.
Good books that make you forget time and space and just melt into their pages.
Marriage. Mine, and yours.
Ice water. every day. everywhere. It comes with me.
Stella Dijon the Avalon.
St. Andrews and Catch the Fire. Because God has used them both instrumentally in my life.
For Martha. :) (Guilty pleasure.)
I know there's more than this on my list, but I'm getting a little crispy around the edges, so I think it's time to wrap it up. I'm thankful. For you, and you, and you, and you.
For Thanksgiving dinner! Hooray!
11.10.2009
I wear long sleeved shirts under short sleeved shirts under long sleeved shirts
Because lately I've been vacillating between depression over not having a place to hang my stethoscope and joy because God is, in fact, in control--after a quagmire of phone calls, emails, compulsively clicking "renew" on my job application accounts--I turn to Christmas to fill the void. Not in a sadly misguided eat-your-feelings kind of filling of the void, but when times get tough, tinsel can help.
So, I went to Barnes & Noble and Pottery Barn today. For four hours. Gasp! I read approximately nine children's Christmas books, Polar Express and 'Twas the Night Before Christmas included. Everything in me wanted to purchase a $4.95 Holiday tote bag and fill it chock full of books with titles boldly proclaiming that good always triumphs over evil and there is always a moral of the story and strangers will help pay for Christmas shoes for Mama. The bad news is that that's not possible. Bad things happen to good people. Hard work doesn't always return what you expect. But. I'm so thankful there's a but. And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him...Romans 8:28. God is working. For me. For my good. His sleeves are rolled up and His brow is glistening with sweat. Good to know.
Pottery Barn miiiight possibly be my second favorite I-have-nothing-to-do-so-I'll-go-poke-around stores (Barnes & Noble being the first favorite). And they've recently turned over the floor to Christmas decor. That rhymes. Anyhow, right now their enchanting motifs make me want to turn klepto and line my pockets with hand blown ornaments, silvered wine stoppers, and cinnamon potpourri. Mmmm, five-finger discount. I've tamped down the urge, so you won't see my mug shot anytime soon, but I may have to decorate my apartment for Christmas before Thanksgiving. Would that be such a horrible thing? No. No, I don't think so. I did use a gift card from our June nuptials and I bought this (gorgeous green) and this (the smallest one) on sale! Both can be Christmas-y and both can be used during other seasons. Score! Thank you gift card giver!
IIIIII'm dreaming/of a [cheaaaaaaap] Christmas....that's why I'm going to use the leftover nuts from my nut wreath for ornaments. A little glue and a little twine and you've got a super cheap organic ornament! I'm thinking about pine cones as well. And glitter. I got all of my Christmas ornaments out today--all seven of them--and realized that this may not be the Christmas of a carefully collected, preciously ornamented tree. It might just have to be a graceful Fraser fur of nuts, pine cones, ribbon, crocheted snowflakes and white lights. Who knows, maybe I'll get sassy and throw in a red and green construction paper chain.
Wanna know a secret? (This is a non-noel bit of news.) Don't tell anyone, but I've started using vitamin and anti-oxidant rich, anti-aging Olay Total Effects face lotion plus SPF 15. I know--you're thinking, "anti-aging? What, are you trying to look like an infant?", but all we hear about these days is preventative medicine. Prevent: -verb- to keep from occurring, avert, hinder. to act ahead of; forestall. I'd rather layer on the lotion now than inject botulinum toxins into my crows feet later. Yeah! Other age interrupters? Sleep and exercise. Juuuust what you wanted to hear. ;)
As for the title of this posting, I have no excuse. It just popped into my head and came out through my finger tips.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow: Stephanie Ashmore and Ryan Lee = engaged!
So, I went to Barnes & Noble and Pottery Barn today. For four hours. Gasp! I read approximately nine children's Christmas books, Polar Express and 'Twas the Night Before Christmas included. Everything in me wanted to purchase a $4.95 Holiday tote bag and fill it chock full of books with titles boldly proclaiming that good always triumphs over evil and there is always a moral of the story and strangers will help pay for Christmas shoes for Mama. The bad news is that that's not possible. Bad things happen to good people. Hard work doesn't always return what you expect. But. I'm so thankful there's a but. And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him...Romans 8:28. God is working. For me. For my good. His sleeves are rolled up and His brow is glistening with sweat. Good to know.
Pottery Barn miiiight possibly be my second favorite I-have-nothing-to-do-so-I'll-go-poke-around stores (Barnes & Noble being the first favorite). And they've recently turned over the floor to Christmas decor. That rhymes. Anyhow, right now their enchanting motifs make me want to turn klepto and line my pockets with hand blown ornaments, silvered wine stoppers, and cinnamon potpourri. Mmmm, five-finger discount. I've tamped down the urge, so you won't see my mug shot anytime soon, but I may have to decorate my apartment for Christmas before Thanksgiving. Would that be such a horrible thing? No. No, I don't think so. I did use a gift card from our June nuptials and I bought this (gorgeous green) and this (the smallest one) on sale! Both can be Christmas-y and both can be used during other seasons. Score! Thank you gift card giver!
IIIIII'm dreaming/of a [cheaaaaaaap] Christmas....that's why I'm going to use the leftover nuts from my nut wreath for ornaments. A little glue and a little twine and you've got a super cheap organic ornament! I'm thinking about pine cones as well. And glitter. I got all of my Christmas ornaments out today--all seven of them--and realized that this may not be the Christmas of a carefully collected, preciously ornamented tree. It might just have to be a graceful Fraser fur of nuts, pine cones, ribbon, crocheted snowflakes and white lights. Who knows, maybe I'll get sassy and throw in a red and green construction paper chain.
Wanna know a secret? (This is a non-noel bit of news.) Don't tell anyone, but I've started using vitamin and anti-oxidant rich, anti-aging Olay Total Effects face lotion plus SPF 15. I know--you're thinking, "anti-aging? What, are you trying to look like an infant?", but all we hear about these days is preventative medicine. Prevent: -verb- to keep from occurring, avert, hinder. to act ahead of; forestall. I'd rather layer on the lotion now than inject botulinum toxins into my crows feet later. Yeah! Other age interrupters? Sleep and exercise. Juuuust what you wanted to hear. ;)
As for the title of this posting, I have no excuse. It just popped into my head and came out through my finger tips.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow: Stephanie Ashmore and Ryan Lee = engaged!
8.26.2009
From the ashes of disaster bloom the roses of success
Now that I'm optimistically quoting Dick Van Dyke movies, let's just get to the point:
I think I'm supposed to wait.
I've obtained and filled out two retail job applications and I've researched volunteering at Duke and Rex hospitals. And I'm just not sure I want to go forward with either of them. There are scores of pluses and minuses for each option, but I won't bore you with those gory details. I must admit, I'm hearing the echo of my own voice, "you've got to do something while you figure out what to do", but I'm not really getting the go ahead from the man upstairs. I was told to get into the River and wait there for further instructions. I'm not about to complicate things by taking matters into my own hands. At church on Sunday, one of the preachers, (there were two, more on that later), talked about the hostile opposition of our society towards free time (those weren't his exact words, but I'm paraphrasing). We become human-doings instead of human beings. And I'm wondering if the Lord hasn't given me this time to press into him and just enjoy this sliver of a moment in my life. It's difficult to ascertain, though, because even as I write these words, I feel the judgement of eating "the bread of idleness" clanging down on my head. I rebuke you, in Jesus' Name. I'm not saying being at home all day is all it's cracked up to be, but it is what you make it. I'm not whittling for myself an excuse for laziness. I'm not even saying that I don't do something every day to push forward with getting a nursing job. I'm just saying that I'm questioning running out to find something to fill my time with. In this schedule stocked stressed out society, should I follow suit and sign up for active duty at the mall? I don't know. Not no, per se. But not yes, yet.
So why the Chitty Chitty Bang Bang reference? Because a little self-help never hurt anyone. In the movie, Grandpa Potts is in the dungeon of the castle of Baron Bomburst of Vulgaria, a place where children are forbidden (the Baroness hates kids, apparently). The Baron thinks that Grandpa Potts is the inventor, which is actually his son, Caractacus Potts (Dick Van Dyke). The Baron wants Grandpa Potts to make his car fly, just like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (their car). The helpers in the dungeon/workshop are all old men, because they've been there foooooooorreeeeeeevvver. And they do their song and dance called "Roses of Success", a song that cites Pasteur, Edison, and Bell as major failures before their dazzling successes. It's a feel-good song, (hey, it's a kid's musical), but the take-home message is important: to keep trying in the face of failure.
"There's more to come: we continue to shout our praise even when we're hemmed in with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. In alert expectancy such as this, we're never left feeling shortchanged. Quite the contrary--we can't round up enough containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives through the Holy Spirit." Romans 5:3-5 The Message
Passionate patience. Active waiting. Compelled perseverance. Tempered steel of virtue, comin' right up. There is nothing "sit-on-the-couch-y" about those words. And for the record, why do we so many, many times (myself included) lump praying for something or about something into doing nothing. Isn't praying doing something? The best something you can do?? Reality check, MG. And I'm putting my soap box away now.
So, the last few days have been pretty uneventful, other than procuring the said job applications and researching the aforementioned volunteering opportunities. That, and talking with the Lord a lot. As Forest Gump says, God's first name must be Andy. "Andy walks with me, Andy talks with me, Andy tells me I am his own". We've finally washed all of our sheets and towels and blankets to get that "store" smell out of them. We've decided on a dinner menu for the rest of the week--Santa Fe Corn and Bean soup in the slow cooker, BBQ chicken and asparagus, fajitas, and more! And when I say "we" I mean me. I've probably got the most agreeable husband on the planet when it comes to food. We finally found a good sushi restaurant nearby on Monday night--nothing to top 356, Nami, or Umi--but it was quite delicious. And they had buy one get one free deals, which was pretty clutch. And by clutch I mean I WAS REALLY FULL. Mmmmmm. :)
Praises: Noah and Melody are safely in NYC and have jobs (hooray!), Andrew got a job as a Physics TA that will pay tuition and then some--i.e. no debt for us!, Jennigray and Chris are moving to Flahrida (back to the Southeast, baby!), and we may have found a church already! Thank you, Lord.
"Grow the roses! those rosy roses! From the ashes of disaster grow the roses of success!"
8.18.2009
Dolla dolla bill, y'all
Ahem. Let me just push up my horn rimmed glasses and straighten my pocket protector before I get started: I studied my critical care book today. After three months of silence on the homework/exam front, I decided to stretch my mental faculties by cracking open the fabled textbook and brushing up on some critical illnesses. Delightful. It actually made me feel like a bonafide nurse again. Now. If only I could get a job that would soar above and beyond what I can learn in that book. It's a hard row to hoe, unemployment. I'm no farmer; I lack any type of green appendage. So I'll keep fertilizing, yanking out rocks, and watering, watering, watering until harvest time.
I've cleaned, straightened, organized and re-organized, worked out, checked job statuses, applied for new positions, planned meals, tried on my clothes (it's almost like shopping, except not), painted my toes a collegiate Cajun Shrimp and truthfully, I got bored. So, I actually ventured out of the comfort of my apartment, today--superconscious of my lack of a sense of direction and my South Carolina license plate. One I remedied with my GPS, the other I chalked up as payback for giving tourists in Charleston a hard time. I made it as far as the Southpoint Mall where I discovered myriad stores very much to my liking. Among them, Anthropology, Nordstrom, and (sigh) Barnes & Noble. My home away from home. Something about a Barnes & Noble--the smell, the books--gives me comfort. Maybe it's because anywhere, everywhere Barnes & Noble is, it never changes. The people perusing the shelves of books and magazines change and the queue in front of the Starbucks cafe might parade different looking people, but it's all basically the same. And I like it. Change is good--great--but don't change my Barnes & Noble. I sought greeting cards and Rosetta Stone Spanish, and much to my dismay the price tag on the latter boasted an arm and a leg, two body parts I'm very fond of. I've decided to go ahead and tackle the speaking Spanish dream, if it means I have to teach myself. I'm just not prepared to sell my first born to do it. So, we're still on the hunt for a well priced and worth it teaching tool.
This past weekend Andrew and I drove his truck to Hendersonville to get fixed by apparently the best fix-it man in the southeast--Ronnie. A broken air-conditioner is no laughing matter in the summertime. Too bad we couldn't have collected our perspiration and traded it for parts and labor because we sweated the whole four hours and 250 miles there. We dropped the truck off and wound our way around the mountain to the Davidson River campground where Andrew's family and then some were camped. It made me miss my family and the good ol' days. We passed the Fish Camp and Dolly's--two Cove Creek staples--ever-present in my childhood memories. Gosh, we had it good. My sister and I actually made sticky note count downs until Cove Creek camping weekend, beginning days before school even let out for the summer. We would use one sticky note for one week and tear it into 7 approximately equal parts, the idea being to tear each tab off as the day passed. It was thrilling to watch the yellow papers stuck to our bathroom mirrors dwindle to just a few tabs; our excitement heightened with every passing week, every sticky note in the trash. And finally, Mama and Daddy would pull out the camper and get our boxes down from the attic: time to pack. Joy, rapture! Nothing could elicit such giddiness like a small rectangular cardboard box stocked first with a bathing suit, jean shorts and economy sized trash bags. It's the simple things, y'all.
For tonight, it's leftover spaghetti in light of date night tomorrow (woohoo!). I don't know where we're going or what we're doing and frankly, I don't care. As long as I get some face-time with my husband, I'm good.
Until next time.
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