Beginning of my freshman year of college, my roommate and I did the whole bunk bed thing. I slept on the top bunk, and Dana was on the bottom. It seemed only fair, as she was a petite 4'11.
Because of the placement of our furniture, in order to get to bed, I had to climb from my desk chair to my desk to the wooden planks to reach the top. I think it's really a toss up between me being a giant wuss, and just having tender feet, but I always had to wear my soccer sandals to bed. I found it nearly impossible to climb without their support.
Most of my friends simply jumped off of their beds when they desired to go somewhere. Not me. The fear of almost everything had been successfully ingrained in my heart, thanks to a fantastic combination of DNA and my mother : ) I'd always climb back down, grasping the bed like a scared monkey.
One afternoon, while perched on my mattress, I made up my mind - today was going to be the day that I conquered my fear - I was gonna jump off. It seemed like the perfect time, since the door was shut and I was all alone in my room. With sweaty palms, I inched closer and closer to the side of the bed. Eventually, I got to the point where I was just dangling off the side, the last of my butt cheeks hanging on for dear life. I'm 5'8, so looking back there was probably only inches of space between myself and the floor. However, to me, I felt suspended in fear, unable to pull myself back onto the bed and unwilling to let go. I was a cosmic dingle berry.
What I lacked in courage, I also lacked in muscle tone. I had to let go. There was no other way out. I stretched as far I could, toes pointed downward, eyes shut.... For about .5 seconds, the wind was rushing through my hair, I felt strong, courageous. I was every woman. Tom Petty's Free Falling was the soundtrack of my life. And then it happened, in my effort to make every cm count, I had kept my feet pointed downward the entire time, hence my athletic sandals reaching the ground first, and consequently, literally flipping me on my face like a flapjack.
And that was the last time I attempted to jump off my bunk bed.
The End.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Sunday, October 30, 2011
thoughts and reflections
I had an asthma attack this afternoon. I have mild asthma, so this sorta thing isn't super surprising. It used to be really bad during marching band season and when I weighed more. Anyway, went for a run/walk with Isaac today and forgot to bring my inhaler. dumb. I never really got over the weird feeling, even when I got home, used my inhaler and took a really hot shower. The rest of the afternoon was spent in bed. I got up when Isaac left for small group, but I freaked out, because I still felt weird. So I went to West Chester and cuddled with him, so if I died or passed out, at least he could be with me : ) Luckily, I didn't, but I'm still not much for words at the moment, at least not verbally. It's as if every breath counts. It's weird.
As if 2010 wasn't bad enough, my adult acne came back. Sometimes I break out all over my face, but it's a 110% guarantee that I will always break out on my chin. I wonder if a chemical peel would help get rid of some of the underlying bacteria?
Sometimes when I sit down to purposely write something, I think, "Damn, that's good." I think that ego may be a reason to not sit down and purposely write : ) (btw- I am in no way referring to this blog post)
Once Upon A Time on ABC is pretty darn good.
Have you ever noticed that all Taylor Swift songs seem to lead to the conclusion that the guy is with the wrong girl? ie: should leave his love for Taylor. After a while, sweet little Swift songs don't sound so sweet : )
I'm really into smiley faces tonight.
I applied for a newly opened coordinator position at work. Found out tonight that I didn't get it. I'm definitely bummed, but I'm at peace with it. I feel like I gave a pretty solid interview and I'm in a place where I know that I fit in. I not only enjoy what I do, but I'm pretty good at it. I didn't change anything about myself or create trainings or extra stuff to impress anybody. Sometimes I go above and beyond because I feel like it's what the clients deserve and what we should all strive for. I wouldn't be happy if I wasn't doing what I do. Worst case scenario, not getting this position allows me time to grow and learn more. How bad can that be?
I dressed up like Lady Gaga last night. Blue swimsuit, gold belt, fishnets, robe, house slippers and a giant blond wig with curlers and a little blue bow. I was supposed to be Lady Gaga when she gets old, fat and tired. I'm still a bit uncertain how a woman, dressed up like another woman, could resemble a drag queen so effortlessly. Once I took the wig off last night, I realized I perhaps missed my calling and should have been downtown, singing "It's Raining Men" by the Pointer Sisters. Maybe it was the gold and pink eyelashes. I'm not too sure.
I think I could be friends with Kelly Clarkson in real life. She seems so down to earth and likable. Sometimes there's a little too much try in her videos, but I think that's just because she's just a really freaking good singer and not an actress. Who knows.
My dog gets to play with Charlie tomorrow. He's pretty stoked. He recognizes his name and knows where he lives and can remember playing with him. Granted, he's never actually told me this, but I can so tell by his eyes and actions and the fact that he cries when we get close to their house.
Rumor has it that a popular entertainer is pregnant, but doesn't want to announce it publicly until she gets a fat deal with a magazine. There's a 90% chance that this is all it is - a rumor. But the slim chance that it's true, makes me kinda sick.You're in an essence, selling your baby.
People who think Halloween is evil are weird to me.
I've been exhausted for the last week. It's really beginning to get on my nerves.
I still really wonder if my friends are overly disappointed in me because of how fat I am. I hope I don't disgust them.
There was forgiveness for something, but I'm still really hurt and there's a bit of trust lacking. Which begs the question, did I not fully forgive or did I do something wrong? Or it that just a normal part of life? You can forgive, but you don't forget. I don't know. I'm kinda torn on the issue.
It's hard to watch someone fight death in front of you; friend's marriages in trouble; be with folks who want to take their own life. There's absolutely no right words to say to ease that pain. I'm hoping that just being there is enough.
Please be in prayer for a client's family. Death seems to be rather immanent.
As if 2010 wasn't bad enough, my adult acne came back. Sometimes I break out all over my face, but it's a 110% guarantee that I will always break out on my chin. I wonder if a chemical peel would help get rid of some of the underlying bacteria?
Sometimes when I sit down to purposely write something, I think, "Damn, that's good." I think that ego may be a reason to not sit down and purposely write : ) (btw- I am in no way referring to this blog post)
Once Upon A Time on ABC is pretty darn good.
Have you ever noticed that all Taylor Swift songs seem to lead to the conclusion that the guy is with the wrong girl? ie: should leave his love for Taylor. After a while, sweet little Swift songs don't sound so sweet : )
I'm really into smiley faces tonight.
I applied for a newly opened coordinator position at work. Found out tonight that I didn't get it. I'm definitely bummed, but I'm at peace with it. I feel like I gave a pretty solid interview and I'm in a place where I know that I fit in. I not only enjoy what I do, but I'm pretty good at it. I didn't change anything about myself or create trainings or extra stuff to impress anybody. Sometimes I go above and beyond because I feel like it's what the clients deserve and what we should all strive for. I wouldn't be happy if I wasn't doing what I do. Worst case scenario, not getting this position allows me time to grow and learn more. How bad can that be?
I dressed up like Lady Gaga last night. Blue swimsuit, gold belt, fishnets, robe, house slippers and a giant blond wig with curlers and a little blue bow. I was supposed to be Lady Gaga when she gets old, fat and tired. I'm still a bit uncertain how a woman, dressed up like another woman, could resemble a drag queen so effortlessly. Once I took the wig off last night, I realized I perhaps missed my calling and should have been downtown, singing "It's Raining Men" by the Pointer Sisters. Maybe it was the gold and pink eyelashes. I'm not too sure.
I think I could be friends with Kelly Clarkson in real life. She seems so down to earth and likable. Sometimes there's a little too much try in her videos, but I think that's just because she's just a really freaking good singer and not an actress. Who knows.
My dog gets to play with Charlie tomorrow. He's pretty stoked. He recognizes his name and knows where he lives and can remember playing with him. Granted, he's never actually told me this, but I can so tell by his eyes and actions and the fact that he cries when we get close to their house.
Rumor has it that a popular entertainer is pregnant, but doesn't want to announce it publicly until she gets a fat deal with a magazine. There's a 90% chance that this is all it is - a rumor. But the slim chance that it's true, makes me kinda sick.You're in an essence, selling your baby.
People who think Halloween is evil are weird to me.
I've been exhausted for the last week. It's really beginning to get on my nerves.
I still really wonder if my friends are overly disappointed in me because of how fat I am. I hope I don't disgust them.
There was forgiveness for something, but I'm still really hurt and there's a bit of trust lacking. Which begs the question, did I not fully forgive or did I do something wrong? Or it that just a normal part of life? You can forgive, but you don't forget. I don't know. I'm kinda torn on the issue.
It's hard to watch someone fight death in front of you; friend's marriages in trouble; be with folks who want to take their own life. There's absolutely no right words to say to ease that pain. I'm hoping that just being there is enough.
Please be in prayer for a client's family. Death seems to be rather immanent.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Why You Should Hate Christians
I could list a million reasons why I could hate my tribe. Well, if we're being honest, probably more...
We say some of the dumbest things - and at the most inappropriate times. We're whiny, rude, condescending and arrogant. We love to be right and sometimes play victim when we're wrong. We secretly like the separation of church and state, unless of course, we want to build Noah's Ark in the middle of KY and need funding.
We're very proud of our morals and codes and ethics. We say we've been 'saved by grace' and 'saved from our sins', but most of us don't actually work hard at the grace bit. Dare I say because quite a few of us don't actually believe we deserve grace. We work so hard at having all of the right answers and looking proper and doing 'all of the right things' that when we slip up, it's swept under the rug so quickly, as to not soil the good name of the denomination or the church or of course, ourselves. We secretly heart the idea that our good deeds and purity has earned us a better seat, therefore negating the entire appeal of grace and love and forgiveness. And if we've been working so hard to be so good for so long, well then what hope do the other poor shmucks have?
We're really into catchy phrases and fads and the dying and shaving of youth pastor's heads. We think we're holy with our stained glass and pews but way cooler, when we meet in a school with folding chairs, a rocking band, jeans and coffee. (We love to feel authentic and like we're the first ones to come up with an idea) We like to steal popular logos turn them into a Christianese slogan. A few of us think 'Friend Day' is considering reaching out to the community. We usually don't look into where the actual teaching of Jesus and the saints came from, because that seems scary and unfaithful somehow. I think a few actually believe Jesus was an American and wrote the KJV. We feel good about ourselves when we gloat and shout and protest, at scared young mothers. We twist and grope the image of the most glorious redeemer to suit our own purposes. We throw dung in the faces of our enemies and are convinced that the party (no matter which one) we vote for, or the music we listen to (whether Christian or not) is the correct one. Every generation is convinced that whatever particular race or gender or sexual orientation that we decide to taunt and spit at, that those deeds are blessed by God. We love being heard. (why do you think I have a blog?)
But I can't do it. I may hate with all of the passions of this world, the things that some of my tribe members believe and do in the name of Yahweh, but I can't hate them. Because when it gets down to the nitty gritty, I believe that we're all created in the image of God, and every single one of us has royally screwed up. We all want something to serve, whether it's a religion, money, sex, attention, food, or praise, we crave it. It wakes us up in the middle of the night, gasping for more. We are like little children who never want to be picked last in gym class. We yearn for acceptance, but we always want to be our own Master. It's a continuous thread throughout the Bible - we fall, we're redeemed, we yearn for an earthly master, we don't like being told what to do, we turn away, we act stupid, we come to our senses. Rinse. Repeat. Over and over again, like a beat up pair of tennis shoes in a dryer, we just get loud and kinda uncomfortable.
See, I really kinda wanna hate my tribe. I even flirt with the idea of hating certain people sometimes, but this crazy guy once taught that "If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal." (1 Corinthians 13:1). And the weirder thing is that the crazy guy followed an even kookier guy who said something to the effect of, "Let me give you a new command: Love one another. In the same way I loved you, you love one another. This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples—when they see the love you have for each other." (John 13:35) It's sounds crazy. Absolutely absurd - have you met some of us?! But as much as I've tried to fight it or deny it or pick it apart, I'm convinced that Jesus was more than some great teacher or magician or hippie. That he lived and breathed amongst a community of numb nuts, because that's who we all are. That he was fully God and fully man. And we need to be shown how to love and heal and listen and embrace each other. That we shouldn't be scared or angered at those who look or believe differently than us, cause we're all cut from the same cloth.
I'm tired of being a gong.
We say some of the dumbest things - and at the most inappropriate times. We're whiny, rude, condescending and arrogant. We love to be right and sometimes play victim when we're wrong. We secretly like the separation of church and state, unless of course, we want to build Noah's Ark in the middle of KY and need funding.
We're very proud of our morals and codes and ethics. We say we've been 'saved by grace' and 'saved from our sins', but most of us don't actually work hard at the grace bit. Dare I say because quite a few of us don't actually believe we deserve grace. We work so hard at having all of the right answers and looking proper and doing 'all of the right things' that when we slip up, it's swept under the rug so quickly, as to not soil the good name of the denomination or the church or of course, ourselves. We secretly heart the idea that our good deeds and purity has earned us a better seat, therefore negating the entire appeal of grace and love and forgiveness. And if we've been working so hard to be so good for so long, well then what hope do the other poor shmucks have?
We're really into catchy phrases and fads and the dying and shaving of youth pastor's heads. We think we're holy with our stained glass and pews but way cooler, when we meet in a school with folding chairs, a rocking band, jeans and coffee. (We love to feel authentic and like we're the first ones to come up with an idea) We like to steal popular logos turn them into a Christianese slogan. A few of us think 'Friend Day' is considering reaching out to the community. We usually don't look into where the actual teaching of Jesus and the saints came from, because that seems scary and unfaithful somehow. I think a few actually believe Jesus was an American and wrote the KJV. We feel good about ourselves when we gloat and shout and protest, at scared young mothers. We twist and grope the image of the most glorious redeemer to suit our own purposes. We throw dung in the faces of our enemies and are convinced that the party (no matter which one) we vote for, or the music we listen to (whether Christian or not) is the correct one. Every generation is convinced that whatever particular race or gender or sexual orientation that we decide to taunt and spit at, that those deeds are blessed by God. We love being heard. (why do you think I have a blog?)
But I can't do it. I may hate with all of the passions of this world, the things that some of my tribe members believe and do in the name of Yahweh, but I can't hate them. Because when it gets down to the nitty gritty, I believe that we're all created in the image of God, and every single one of us has royally screwed up. We all want something to serve, whether it's a religion, money, sex, attention, food, or praise, we crave it. It wakes us up in the middle of the night, gasping for more. We are like little children who never want to be picked last in gym class. We yearn for acceptance, but we always want to be our own Master. It's a continuous thread throughout the Bible - we fall, we're redeemed, we yearn for an earthly master, we don't like being told what to do, we turn away, we act stupid, we come to our senses. Rinse. Repeat. Over and over again, like a beat up pair of tennis shoes in a dryer, we just get loud and kinda uncomfortable.
See, I really kinda wanna hate my tribe. I even flirt with the idea of hating certain people sometimes, but this crazy guy once taught that "If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal." (1 Corinthians 13:1). And the weirder thing is that the crazy guy followed an even kookier guy who said something to the effect of, "Let me give you a new command: Love one another. In the same way I loved you, you love one another. This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples—when they see the love you have for each other." (John 13:35) It's sounds crazy. Absolutely absurd - have you met some of us?! But as much as I've tried to fight it or deny it or pick it apart, I'm convinced that Jesus was more than some great teacher or magician or hippie. That he lived and breathed amongst a community of numb nuts, because that's who we all are. That he was fully God and fully man. And we need to be shown how to love and heal and listen and embrace each other. That we shouldn't be scared or angered at those who look or believe differently than us, cause we're all cut from the same cloth.
I'm tired of being a gong.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
blissful
We just got back last night from a WONDERFUL vacation. Here's some of the highlights for me.
* If you are given the chance to spend time without a planner, a blackberry, a schedule and you have limited news coverage - embrace every moment of it.
* a 50 minute deep tissue massage is worth EVERY SINGLE PENNY you paid for it, and then some.
* slot machines are really, really fun.
* Being surrounded by lots of different cultures and ethnicity's is totally awesome. It helps remind you that you're not the only person on the planet.
* If you ever have the chance to just hang out with the one you love for 6 days, jump on it.
(that's what she said) No, seriously. A week with just Isaac was uh-mazingly nice.
* Even if you get a dinner table all to yourself, everyone around you will still listen to your conversation, just as you will try and secretly listen to theirs. Nobody chews their food for that long.
* I finished 2 books while I was gone - Saving Jesus From the Church by Robin Meyers and Counterfeit Gods by Tim Keller. Making the transition from a Unitarian point of view to a Presbyterian minister's was fantastic. Both were great reads and both offer incredibly good points. I believe I embraced parts of each. Now I just need to finish Created for Community that I read (and don't remember at all) in college. I started to reread it a few months ago, but never completed.
* Reading and being by myself for a bit, reminded me of how much I enjoy writing. I have about 2 or 3 solid ideas for a book or blog series that I've been holding on to for months now.... I need to just take the plunge....
* I really, really, really loved the random naps.
* I felt like a princess. And I don't mean that to be cheesy. I just appreciated how much time I had alone with Isaac, and how hands off I got to be with everything. And that we weren't in a trailer.....
* Every person should be so lucky to have a friend like Debbie Boyd. She is pure and lovely and kind and a darn good travel agent. You should take the hint and book your next travel destination from her.
* If you are given the chance to spend time without a planner, a blackberry, a schedule and you have limited news coverage - embrace every moment of it.
* a 50 minute deep tissue massage is worth EVERY SINGLE PENNY you paid for it, and then some.
* slot machines are really, really fun.
* Being surrounded by lots of different cultures and ethnicity's is totally awesome. It helps remind you that you're not the only person on the planet.
* If you ever have the chance to just hang out with the one you love for 6 days, jump on it.
(that's what she said) No, seriously. A week with just Isaac was uh-mazingly nice.
* Even if you get a dinner table all to yourself, everyone around you will still listen to your conversation, just as you will try and secretly listen to theirs. Nobody chews their food for that long.
* I finished 2 books while I was gone - Saving Jesus From the Church by Robin Meyers and Counterfeit Gods by Tim Keller. Making the transition from a Unitarian point of view to a Presbyterian minister's was fantastic. Both were great reads and both offer incredibly good points. I believe I embraced parts of each. Now I just need to finish Created for Community that I read (and don't remember at all) in college. I started to reread it a few months ago, but never completed.
* Reading and being by myself for a bit, reminded me of how much I enjoy writing. I have about 2 or 3 solid ideas for a book or blog series that I've been holding on to for months now.... I need to just take the plunge....
* I really, really, really loved the random naps.
* I felt like a princess. And I don't mean that to be cheesy. I just appreciated how much time I had alone with Isaac, and how hands off I got to be with everything. And that we weren't in a trailer.....
* Every person should be so lucky to have a friend like Debbie Boyd. She is pure and lovely and kind and a darn good travel agent. You should take the hint and book your next travel destination from her.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
confession
when I get in a funk, I tend to want to talk it out. Usually with friends, sometimes through a blog. I think the idea of embracing the crappiness in the moment is much more appealing than always reading about how someone's come through on the other side... There's some form of relationship and solace found in confessions, struggles... And while I believe that 100%, I almost always wuss out : )
But not tonight. This is nothing life altering or crazy or anything - so don't get your hopes up - but here's what I'm struggling with.
* I've gained 14lbs since May or June. About 8 in the last month. I loved the movie experience, but I was so anxious, that I drank and ate my way through it. I'm still a 12, but I'm a tight 12. The tightness reminds me of what a failure I am. I am embarrassed to go out. I think I am an embarrassment to others because of my weight gain. When I'm out somewhere and someone comments on how much skinnier I am, I immediately fire back with "I've gained 10lbs".
* I've been trying to whiten my teeth for about a month now. It's a combination of laziness and my tongue/throat reaction that has only led me to be 1/2 way there. And I'm not sure I can tell the difference.
* Someone is BLARING the Cupid Shuffle outside my house at the moment. I honestly just think that it's hilarious.
* I've been ridiculously excited about something for a long time. We're going on a real grown-up vacation. But today I've really been struggling with being depressed. It all circles back to the whole philsophy that I don't believe that I deserve anything good... and that I definitely don't deserve to enjoy myself because of how overweight I am. Vicious circle.
* I just applied press on toenails and fingernails. Yep.
* I have been dreading October since August. 10/10 my life was filled with chaos, death, dread, hatred, anger and anxiety. I hate the person I was then. I can't forgive myself for who I was, mainly because I wonder if part of her's still in me. And partly because I don't believe people have forgiven me. Nor do I believe they should.
* I ate 2 Little Debbie Pumpkin Cakes while I typed this blog.
* My dog is currently laying on my clean laundry blowing out diarhea farts.
* I'm in the process of re-examining my faith and the Bible. I wish I had paid more attention in Bible college.
* Okay, Cash's gas is just getting disgusting now.
* I think I want to learn Greek and/or Hebrew. I think.
* I'm going to be off the grid for awhile. Please don't take it personal : )
But not tonight. This is nothing life altering or crazy or anything - so don't get your hopes up - but here's what I'm struggling with.
* I've gained 14lbs since May or June. About 8 in the last month. I loved the movie experience, but I was so anxious, that I drank and ate my way through it. I'm still a 12, but I'm a tight 12. The tightness reminds me of what a failure I am. I am embarrassed to go out. I think I am an embarrassment to others because of my weight gain. When I'm out somewhere and someone comments on how much skinnier I am, I immediately fire back with "I've gained 10lbs".
* I've been trying to whiten my teeth for about a month now. It's a combination of laziness and my tongue/throat reaction that has only led me to be 1/2 way there. And I'm not sure I can tell the difference.
* Someone is BLARING the Cupid Shuffle outside my house at the moment. I honestly just think that it's hilarious.
* I've been ridiculously excited about something for a long time. We're going on a real grown-up vacation. But today I've really been struggling with being depressed. It all circles back to the whole philsophy that I don't believe that I deserve anything good... and that I definitely don't deserve to enjoy myself because of how overweight I am. Vicious circle.
* I just applied press on toenails and fingernails. Yep.
* I have been dreading October since August. 10/10 my life was filled with chaos, death, dread, hatred, anger and anxiety. I hate the person I was then. I can't forgive myself for who I was, mainly because I wonder if part of her's still in me. And partly because I don't believe people have forgiven me. Nor do I believe they should.
* I ate 2 Little Debbie Pumpkin Cakes while I typed this blog.
* My dog is currently laying on my clean laundry blowing out diarhea farts.
* I'm in the process of re-examining my faith and the Bible. I wish I had paid more attention in Bible college.
* Okay, Cash's gas is just getting disgusting now.
* I think I want to learn Greek and/or Hebrew. I think.
* I'm going to be off the grid for awhile. Please don't take it personal : )
Thursday, September 15, 2011
grateful
Isaac makes movies. I make friends with folks who have "disabilities". I prefer it this way.
I signed up for a week to be a production assistant on the film. I think I ended up on set everyday : ) Partly because it was the only way I could see my husband : ) but mainly because I fell in love with the people around me. It was hard, stressful and incredibly enjoyable work. I'm deeply saddened that some of my favorite people are leaving town. It's very humbling to be surrounded by such an array of talented individuals. Folks who are beautiful on the inside and out. I doubt most of them can see their own self worth, but I feel like I can.
I can honestly say that it was an honor to serve under the leadership of my friend and director, Brad Wise and Joe Boyd, who I have without permission, lovingly adopted as my big brother. And of course, Isaac. It's taken us six movies, but we've finally begun to figure out how to work together : ) I am so, so, so grateful for his love and support and guidance over the last month and a half. For allowing me to serve with him to an extent. To be a part of his dream. That is an amazing gift to be given.
I have a few pictures of the set, but most are stored in my heart. I planned on taking a ton at the wrap party and celebrating and saying last good-byes, etc, but I came down with a rather large anxiety attack instead. BOO. So I ended up stealing the director's baby and sitting outside of the Harbor Point Dewey's holding the most precious 14lbs of infant ever created. I told him how much his mommy and daddy loved him and how they had waited so long to have him. How they probably cried when they found out Leah was pregnant. And how they love him more than anything else in this world. Henry just cooed and looked at me with deep satisfaction, as if to say he already knew.
I also spent a chunk of time with a very close friend, discussing life and love and what to do about all of it. I have been very blessed in the friendship department, even when I have not done anything to deserve them or have pushed them away. I am very, very, very blessed. I have forgiving and loving friends.
And then I just spent the rest of the quiet evening at home with Isaac. And I loved every last second of it.
I signed up for a week to be a production assistant on the film. I think I ended up on set everyday : ) Partly because it was the only way I could see my husband : ) but mainly because I fell in love with the people around me. It was hard, stressful and incredibly enjoyable work. I'm deeply saddened that some of my favorite people are leaving town. It's very humbling to be surrounded by such an array of talented individuals. Folks who are beautiful on the inside and out. I doubt most of them can see their own self worth, but I feel like I can.
I can honestly say that it was an honor to serve under the leadership of my friend and director, Brad Wise and Joe Boyd, who I have without permission, lovingly adopted as my big brother. And of course, Isaac. It's taken us six movies, but we've finally begun to figure out how to work together : ) I am so, so, so grateful for his love and support and guidance over the last month and a half. For allowing me to serve with him to an extent. To be a part of his dream. That is an amazing gift to be given.
I have a few pictures of the set, but most are stored in my heart. I planned on taking a ton at the wrap party and celebrating and saying last good-byes, etc, but I came down with a rather large anxiety attack instead. BOO. So I ended up stealing the director's baby and sitting outside of the Harbor Point Dewey's holding the most precious 14lbs of infant ever created. I told him how much his mommy and daddy loved him and how they had waited so long to have him. How they probably cried when they found out Leah was pregnant. And how they love him more than anything else in this world. Henry just cooed and looked at me with deep satisfaction, as if to say he already knew.
I also spent a chunk of time with a very close friend, discussing life and love and what to do about all of it. I have been very blessed in the friendship department, even when I have not done anything to deserve them or have pushed them away. I am very, very, very blessed. I have forgiving and loving friends.
And then I just spent the rest of the quiet evening at home with Isaac. And I loved every last second of it.
Monday, August 8, 2011
What A Feeling!
Okay. So I promised myself that I wasn't going to write any more blogs until at least September. I have a fairly difficult time remaining focused to begin with, and right now, I sorta feel pulled in a few directions. But today needs to be shared.
The morning started off well at work. Routine is really big in the house, and some days I don't mind it. Meds, breakfast, bath, wash hair in the sink, start laundry, shave. I feel it is my civic duty to periodically trim back the mass of ear hair and bushy eyebrows that endow this particular person. (I mean, who wouldn't want that taken care of? Have a heart, people) Everything was going well with the brows unless he sorta rocked forward into the razor. Well shit. I got nervous after that, and so eventually we were both gently rocking back and forth while I was trying to lighten the load. The area above his eyes now somewhat resonates the pipes on an old church organ. They're all there, but not necessarily all the same height. Luckily, he wears a hat and keeps his head down most of the time, so I think it'll be okay. But gracious, did I feel like a jerk.
Today also happened to be the big day - the annual visit to the obgyn. I stayed with the same practice, but this afternoon's visit would be at a new location, with a new doc. Needless to say, I was anxious. It's just...so....invasive. What a terrible way to meet people! As I waited to meet the new guy in the room, the same familiar trail of thoughts raced through my brain.... "Did I remember to put my phone on silent? I don't want any surprise noises... I have to make sure I pee before he starts working on me. I wish I wasn't so nervous, I hate getting gas. Oh God, why did I eat so much granola today?!?!?!?! (side note: I always have these visions of the doctor pushing too hard and me farting in his face. It is a very real fear. And one that I so do not want played out) I wonder if OBGYN's are really just perves with a degree. If they were hugged too much as a child.... If my stuff is good enough. If being forgotten at the OBGYN's office would scar me more than being left at a funeral home (I decided, most definitely, btw. Side note: This happened to a very close friend of mine) I think about a story I heard once where the nurse told the patient to "crawl on up there" and she did. She was apparently on all fours on the table when her doctor walked in.
The plethora of thoughts were broken as the new doctor opened the door to the room. His Tigger-like enthusiasm took me aback for a moment. That brief second was almost immediately replaced with the decision that he probably pounces onto his wife. We chatted a bit, and then I excused myself to the restroom to squeeze out as much urine and gas as possible. Always uncertain and anxious about when the doctor would come back in, I made a mad dash back into the room and began undressing as if I had A Minute To Win It.
When I used to go for my yearly, I'd always get pretty dressed up - a skirt, makeup, hair, good shoes.... But as I've lost some weight and gained a greater sense of self, I decided that today I was purposely going without makeup (I must admit, some days I rather enjoy or at least appreciate looking in a mirror and not wanting to throw up) and that I was NOT going to hide my underwear. (See, there's this thing with women and hiding our unmentionables while the doc checks out our twats) But as I shimmied out of my jean skirt like a jackrabbit on a date, I just couldn't stand the sight of my underoos, just laying there. So I hid them. And then I hid my bra too.
About three minutes later, the doc came back in, just chatting away. I had planned this great idea about asking him if he wanted to be an investor in a movie I'm working on, but alas, I just couldn't bring myself to do it..... So, never without words, I decided that asking him exactly what he could see was a better option. Dumb idea. I decided in that moment, that every parent should take their daughter to her first visit when she's 12. The feeling and words used will suck the sexiness right out of ya. And if it wasn't illegal and just plain wrong, I'd say that the sons should go to. Trust me, they will never want to hit that. Ever. There, I just solved the nation's teen pregnancy crisis. BAM!
After I got dressed, regained my composure and began driving away, the song Flashdance came on the radio. I genuinely got excited about this, as it seemed to somehow fit the mood (okay Jen, you just made it through your yearly. What a feeling! I can really have it all! I can conquer the world!). Roughly three minutes later, the song ended and I was saddened. Then I flipped to another station and guess what song was on?!?!?! FLASHDANCE! I really, really can have it all!
The morning started off well at work. Routine is really big in the house, and some days I don't mind it. Meds, breakfast, bath, wash hair in the sink, start laundry, shave. I feel it is my civic duty to periodically trim back the mass of ear hair and bushy eyebrows that endow this particular person. (I mean, who wouldn't want that taken care of? Have a heart, people) Everything was going well with the brows unless he sorta rocked forward into the razor. Well shit. I got nervous after that, and so eventually we were both gently rocking back and forth while I was trying to lighten the load. The area above his eyes now somewhat resonates the pipes on an old church organ. They're all there, but not necessarily all the same height. Luckily, he wears a hat and keeps his head down most of the time, so I think it'll be okay. But gracious, did I feel like a jerk.
Today also happened to be the big day - the annual visit to the obgyn. I stayed with the same practice, but this afternoon's visit would be at a new location, with a new doc. Needless to say, I was anxious. It's just...so....invasive. What a terrible way to meet people! As I waited to meet the new guy in the room, the same familiar trail of thoughts raced through my brain.... "Did I remember to put my phone on silent? I don't want any surprise noises... I have to make sure I pee before he starts working on me. I wish I wasn't so nervous, I hate getting gas. Oh God, why did I eat so much granola today?!?!?!?! (side note: I always have these visions of the doctor pushing too hard and me farting in his face. It is a very real fear. And one that I so do not want played out) I wonder if OBGYN's are really just perves with a degree. If they were hugged too much as a child.... If my stuff is good enough. If being forgotten at the OBGYN's office would scar me more than being left at a funeral home (I decided, most definitely, btw. Side note: This happened to a very close friend of mine) I think about a story I heard once where the nurse told the patient to "crawl on up there" and she did. She was apparently on all fours on the table when her doctor walked in.
The plethora of thoughts were broken as the new doctor opened the door to the room. His Tigger-like enthusiasm took me aback for a moment. That brief second was almost immediately replaced with the decision that he probably pounces onto his wife. We chatted a bit, and then I excused myself to the restroom to squeeze out as much urine and gas as possible. Always uncertain and anxious about when the doctor would come back in, I made a mad dash back into the room and began undressing as if I had A Minute To Win It.
When I used to go for my yearly, I'd always get pretty dressed up - a skirt, makeup, hair, good shoes.... But as I've lost some weight and gained a greater sense of self, I decided that today I was purposely going without makeup (I must admit, some days I rather enjoy or at least appreciate looking in a mirror and not wanting to throw up) and that I was NOT going to hide my underwear. (See, there's this thing with women and hiding our unmentionables while the doc checks out our twats) But as I shimmied out of my jean skirt like a jackrabbit on a date, I just couldn't stand the sight of my underoos, just laying there. So I hid them. And then I hid my bra too.
About three minutes later, the doc came back in, just chatting away. I had planned this great idea about asking him if he wanted to be an investor in a movie I'm working on, but alas, I just couldn't bring myself to do it..... So, never without words, I decided that asking him exactly what he could see was a better option. Dumb idea. I decided in that moment, that every parent should take their daughter to her first visit when she's 12. The feeling and words used will suck the sexiness right out of ya. And if it wasn't illegal and just plain wrong, I'd say that the sons should go to. Trust me, they will never want to hit that. Ever. There, I just solved the nation's teen pregnancy crisis. BAM!
After I got dressed, regained my composure and began driving away, the song Flashdance came on the radio. I genuinely got excited about this, as it seemed to somehow fit the mood (okay Jen, you just made it through your yearly. What a feeling! I can really have it all! I can conquer the world!). Roughly three minutes later, the song ended and I was saddened. Then I flipped to another station and guess what song was on?!?!?! FLASHDANCE! I really, really can have it all!
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