something is dripping outside my window.

facebook makes other people's lives too available. i don't need to see an entire photo album of you taking shots in PB out of plastic cups, wearing a tank top too small, and looking like trash. nor do i need an update on your health and/ or boyfriend's health. it should be called faceboring.

recently, my life has seemed sour. nothing bad is happening, though, i am just not too keen on september. august was hard, but at least i got a job that month. so far september has given me nothing except a lot of... disappointment? (side note: grammar will fail me at 4:30 in the morning, pardon the juvenality of this post). just in the past week the dreaded "just friends" card was dealt not once, not twice, but three times! and though i expected nothing less, it still felt heavy in my gut like too much chinese food. insecurity is really gross, i am aware, yet it can be justified. september has been insecure. is it ok to allow spells of looking in the mirror and seeing wrinkles? of asking almost everyone you know if you look fat in this... "this" being jeans, a skirt, a dress, anything. of coming home early, going to bed, and trying not to cry when your parents ask their friends, "who should we hook up with alise?" i need a boyfriend for no other reason then to spare me from having to answer, "how's the love life?"

i mean life is good.... working at Hyde-Edwards again is too sweet for words; God really is smarter than I am... it was the LAST thing i wanted and it was the last thing i got. it makes me wonder if He was waiting for me, if the job would have been this great, let's say, in April. or if His will were to have it come when it did. it doesn't matter, does it? so many trivial questions can clog up my mind and the server gets busy and i can't receive anything. i think that's what's been happening lately: i'm thinking too much about... ME. ooooh big shocker! if nothing else, this blog allows me to process things easier. i'm sure it's not the most entertaining. i was reading a client's daughter's blog. she and her girlfriend are traveling in bali. she is really funny. it made me want to be wittier with this. sometimes humor comes naturally, september hasn't been that humorous though. even my laugh is napping.

ps, i am thinking about getting my tattoo. mom, i know you'd rather do all the grocery shopping for the rest of your life than see this happen, but don't freak. it's only thinking, not inking.

you are what you love

things i love (to name a few):
sweet potatoes. mornings. coffee with flavored creamer. finishing at least 2/3 of the crossword. cooking for friends and impressing them with culinary skill. giving and receiving compliments. making someone laugh. laughing. when God speaks. the Bible and My Utmost for His Highest. writing. making good mix cds for friends and, heck, for myself. veggie burgers from burger lounge, green beans from the riv, and jeremiah red from BJs. golden girls. christmas shopping. being overwhelmed by God's love and having no words, just tears. that His grace really IS sufficient. butteflies in stomach. brushing knees in jacuzzis. my wig. silk edges of blankets. summer camp. getting someone good by remembering how they take their coffee or giving them their favorite treat. kate sessions on a clear day.

the reason for this exercise:
i read once, or heard?, that to be a christian is to love what God loves and hates what He hates. duh! however, when examining what it is you actually love/ hate, one can realize how off-target one's heart is trailing. not everybody should live by this standard, only those using the Christian-title. this includes me, hence the exercise. things i hate can wait for another day. anyway, the above list is condensed and sometimes "cute," but it's all true. and most of what i love-- if not all-- are things that make me feel good. the thing is, though, most of what i love should make GOD feel good.... most of what i love should entail obedience, service, and compassion.

1 john 2:15-17: Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world. And the world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever. (bolding by me)

one of the most brutal scriptures, i think. making the list and scoring it with this standard, i feel foolish. i don't have much else to add to the topic. maybe later.

jibber jabber

engagements-- specifically proposals-- can be terribly romantic. for example: last night, my friend tobin asked his lady, orissai, to be his wife. he said, "you make me the happiest man. i love you more than anything in the world." her diamond sparkled brightly all the way down to me, seated at the foot of the table. that table full of close friends and family. gathered to celebrate tob's birthday, but we knew what was coming. we knew the champagne toast was really a means to a proposal. orissai had no idea. a secret kept. i think i cried a little.

andy, tob's brother in law, also made a toast: "i remember when the sparks began between tobin and orissai and tobin was so scared. and i said, 'when you're scared shitless it's a green light to move forward.'" ahhh, ain't that the truth.

usually what scares you is what you've invested your heart into, you've strewn your dreams across a landscape of "what if..." and if only certain stars would align, perhaps you would move forward. yet, you are scared. or maybe that's just me. i am realizing i am more scared than confident. for example: i am scared to actually pursue writing. i am scared to tell people how i really feel. i am scared to commit to a career (hair, history?). i am scared to say "i'm praying for you" when a girl at work complains of a migraine. scaredy freaking cat.

i mean what's the worse that can happen if i open my mouth and say, "this is how it is, i am attracted to you. we get a long real well. why don't we go for ride on the dating train?" or "the reason i don't ever want to hang out is because you talk too much and, quite frankly, you're boring." side note: is there anything worse than be boring? i think not.

and i am so afraid of some plan not coming to pass, that i dare not declare a goal or vision. how presumptuous of me to think i could be published! or that i could be a busy hair dresser! or a good wife! in the past 23 years, i've grown certain of only a few things: God is true. He is holy. He is in control; I am spoiled, bloated, and inconsistent. So, i rest easy knowing greater is He who is in me....

the thing about grace....

it requires change. one cannot receive it and remain the same, that would be a waste.

so, like wearing new jeans that haven't been stretched out, you kind of just wobble along waiting for some give, some room to wiggle. and then what was once so uncomfortable, becomes a second skin. without which you feel nearly naked. levis and grace go hand in hand.

how does the saying go? it takes a lifetime to build a reputation and a day to destroy it? probably not even a day, probably a mere second. one word can change everything, let alone a look, a decision. i see this principle, however, only working in the negative. when a bad reputation is attained it takes much more than a day to change it. or so it seems. people begin to expect certain things from you. certain reactions, faces, and attitudes. often times, their expectations birth reality. even though you have changed---thanks to grace--- you fall back into old habits.

________________

last night i was used up and ready for the trash. everything from my feet to my spirit felt spent. when i got home, i opened a new castle and sat on the couch to tell my dad all the horrors of the day: 20 minutes of complaint. open beer number 2 and it was his time to talk. my dad gives truth in digestable dosages: "for the past 20 minutes all you've talked about is yourself; you're self-obsessed. you see the glass half-empty." well, shit, he was right. again and always. "let me tell you something," he continued, "not to be dramatic (i love that qualifier!!), but when your brother was dying, i'd be driving home from work to frickin' el cajon to ed and louise's house (his in-laws) to my dying son and my wife and daughter who were dying, too (of course not phyically speaking) and this dark cloud would come on me and the only thing i had the stength to say was the name of Jesus. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus over and over." by this time, i'm crying. the thought of a father watching his only son die... it just kills me. as it should, right? i mean, my whole belief system is based on this very thing: God watching His Son, Christ, die. by His death, I am made alive. His sacrifice means my grace. yet, i am so quick to be near-sighted and only see 2 feet in front of me. distracted by an extra 3 pounds or a broken air conditioner or a bruised apple. accepting His grace requires me to see beyond myself. It is no longer I who lives, but He who lives in me. and this, my friends, is an exhausting process that can leave you spent on a wednesday night. thank God for dads and beer.