From Scratch

I've been a bit uncreative recently. I haven't felt much like reading novels, which I typically love, and I feel uninspired to write. I'm not sure if the two are connected.

I've been writing this blog for almost two years now, and a lot has changed since I began. I am now almost two years beyond my time living in New York City. I started blogging in the first place on The New(York)Comer because I moved to NYC with my friends AV and KR and I wanted to chronicle our journey together. I got a huge kick out of writing about all our crazy stories and hearing from random people who had been reading it.

About a year later, I moved back to Texas.

I wanted to keep blogging, so I started writing The Manhattan Transfer to talk about the next step in my journey: transitioning to life in Dallas. While New York was an invaluable and humbling experience for me that I will always view as important to my spiritual, personal and career development, I've grown up a lot since then and a lot has changed.

Half of THIS blog (if we're talking about humbling experiences) was written while I was still living under my parents roof in the suburbs after moving back from NYC. I'm now coming up on the one-year anniversary of living in Dallas with KS and MG and I feel more established here. I had never lived IN Dallas until I moved here last May. If I'm going to have a blog, I think it should reflect where I am in my life.

I mean, for the love, I was wishing friends MY AGE a happy Mother's Day today.

You know?

There are a lot of things I enjoy doing, but writing is at the top of the list. It really is. Rather than frustrate myself over how to re-mold this blog, I think I prefer to archive it and start afresh. The New(York)Comer reflected what it was: my friends and I as newcomers to New York, right out of college. The Manhattan Transfer reflects what it has been as well: transitioning my life to Dallas.

Now I have to figure out what exactly I want my next blog phase to look like.

I wish I could whip up a new blog name and design as easily as I can put dinner on the table (that was a bit self-congratulatory, I grant you), but alas, I confess I'm a bit incompetent when it comes to web-design. Hopefully there are some web designers who confess they don't know a shallot from a spring onion or how to use a pastry bag, and then I'll feel better about myself.

I'll cook you dinner- you design my blog. If only starting from scratch could be so easy, right?

I'll keep y'all posted on my progress and keep writing here in the meantime.

After all, the show must go on.

When you're finished changing, you're finished.

-Benjamin Franklin

You Still Don't Know

As someone who used to work for a magazine and who spent hours upon hours scouring every issue of every popular women's magazine you can possibly think of to provide comprehensive information on competing periodicals, I don't read magazines just for fun very often.

KS, however, does receive a few magazine subscriptions to design magazines, and to Real Simple, which I'll occasionally peruse. I found myself reading an article in Real Simple's "Life Lessons" section tonight, because the content piqued my interest. I'll share the following excerpt, taken from Kristin Van Ogtrop's article entitled: "Can I Call You Back In 15 Years?"

"Then you hit the age of 25 and you realize that your days are numbered, so to speak. You begin to understand that time is no longer infinitely elastic, and that while you spend hours attending to one priority, you are stealing those same hours from another. And why did nobody warn you that you would be spending 30 percent of your time on things that are really tedious or difficult, like trying to find a rental apartment you can afford and a nice boy whom you can marry and stay married to forever? This is a terrible time of life, the mid-20s, because you still don't know what real adulthood looks like. And since you probably don't have children yet, you can devote entire afternoons to questions like "Who am I? which rarely lead you down a pretty path."

I could go into more detail on how she discusses maintaining female friendships when your time is already divided into oblivion as you get older, but suffice it to say it was an insightful article and I would recommend it as a quick-read.

If you read the whole thing, you would see that I successfully cropped out the one part pertaining specifically to ladies my age. Obviously.

Fortunately there is no "tween" word-equivalent for someone my age, who has reached the both accomplished and confounding quarter-century mark but still is yet to experience major life triumvirate of marriage + children + mortgage. While being 25 is fun, part of its charm is that there is an air of transience about it. Seeing other friends grow up to play house (but with a real house and real people), you start thinking about things in the tied-down category and you have to wonder what that's like as well.

Because in all honesty, you (and by "you" I mean "I") don't know what that's like at all. Part of you wants to know and part of you is okay with the fact that your life still allows you many freedoms. It's a strange tug-of-war of wanting what you don't have while also enjoying what you do have, however temporary it may be.

Also... I love funny mom-writers. They have the best wisdom because they don't take themselves too seriously.

Definitely not a bad lesson to learn.

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i am enjoying...

looking for old hardbacks of classics at half-price books

reading the names of paint colors in design magazines

cold weather, warm drinks and soft blankets

seeing something i like, a gift idea for someone or a recipe and actually remembering to write it down

the abundance of restaurants in dallas making refined southern food

friends collaborating to cook over the past week: taco salads and football, dinner party with homemade ribs, bacon-wrapped meatloaf on a monday

the young victoria

my new boots

inspiring words

discussing and planning what our front room will ultimately look like

a quick weekend trip i have coming up soon

the cowboys in the nfl play-offs

my quarter-century mark which is rapidly approaching

I believe the single most significant decision I can make on a day-to-day basis is my choice of attitude. It is more important than my past, my education, my bankroll, my successes or failures, fame or pain, what other people think of me or say about me, my circumstances, or my position. Attitude keeps me going or cripples my progress. It alone fuels my fire or assaults my hope. When my attitudes are right, there is no barrier too high, no valley too deep, no dream too extreme, no challenge too great for me.

- Charles R. Swindoll

Honey, I'm Home

My roommates and I have different schedules, making the time we do get to spend together restful and something we all look forward to.

KS is home at the most off times because her time is split between school and working for an interior designer in Dallas. For the first six months or so of living together, whenever MG and I returned home from work, KS was typically there. I became accustomed to returning home to lamps on in our cozy house and KS and Ruby there to greet me on the couch. She always asks how our days have been, and usually gets a cursory "fine", "good" or "it's over" from us.

We are such joys to be around, let me tell you.

Recently though, with Christmas followed by a trip to Jamaica, KS has returned to a full work schedule. This means she is working until about 7pm some nights and MG and I come home to an empty house. No lamps on, no news program on a low volume in the background, no KS and Ruby on the couch.

After coming home consecutive days to a lonely, empty house that looked much like it did when I left for work the same morning, I asked MG if it ever feels like something is missing when she comes home and finds herself alone. We laughed because we agree that KS is treated as the wife of the house and we have grown accustomed to having her there all the time, so when she's gone, we notice.

I always thought it was kind of funny when I was younger that my mom made a point to greet my dad when he came home from work. She still does it too- a hug and a kiss and dinner ready or in the works for him when he walks in the door. It seems like a simple ritual, but for him it makes coming home a welcoming experience every day.

As a working adult I now I see the value that having someone smiling at you on the opposite side of the door can have at the end of a long day. I think we all sometimes forget that enriching daily life in small ways can actually make it so much more enjoyable. You don't have to wait for grand gestures- a great opportunity lies simply in asking a question and sticking around for an answer.

"So how was your day, after all?"

Those who bring sunshine into the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.

-James M. Barrie

Back in Session

I did not intentionally plan it to coincide with the New Year or any resolutions, but within the past few weeks I have signed up for two classes to take which both begin in January.

Just sharpening the old noggin.

Please ignore me.

My personal training sessions run through January (which has been a great experience- lost a few pounds, got a lot stronger, got back in the gym period) but since I plan to take my physical fitness into my own hands after that, I need other interests to pursue.

The first class I signed up for is a series on The Bible: A-Z (that's what I keep calling it, it's really Genesis to Revelation I think), which will be taught at my church in Dallas and covers the story of the Bible. My Community Group and I will be taking this class together as a way to start 2010 together, learning about the Lord and continuing with purpose that which we started in 2008.

Purely for my own amusement, I have also signed up to take a continuing education course to learn calligraphy at Southern Methodist University (or SMU) here in Dallas. I like my handwriting- I'm a swirly cursive kind of girl, but I would like to learn different styles, adding a certain panache to my thank-you notes and invitations. I think it's such an interesting talent.

I like that I will be learning alongside people who want to be in the classes. I graduated college two and a half years ago, so learning is no longer obligatory but elective. I get to sit among people who desire more, beyond what they know.

I turn 25 next year (and by next year, I mean two weeks from now). One of my friends said she was ready to "wreak havoc" on 25, and I'm on board with the idea.

There is no time like the present to pursue things, people and places that interest or intrigue you. And while you're at it, buy some sparkly nail polish for New Year's Eve. I know I did!

Why the heck not?

Education is what remains after one has forgotten what one has learned in school.
Albert Einstein

Merry {Day After} Christmas

"For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders...

In the Christian story God descends to reascend. He comes down; down from the heights of absolute being into time and space, down into humanity; down further still, if embryologists are right, to recapitulate in the womb ancient and pre-human phases of life; down to the very roots and seabed of the Nature He has created. But He goes down to come up again and bring the whole ruined world up with Him. One has the picture of a strong man stooping lower and lower to get himself underneath some great complicated burden. He must stoop in order to lift, he must almost disappear under the load before he incredibly straightens his back and marches off with the whole mass swaying on his shoulders. Or one may think of a diver, first reducing himself to nakedness, then glancing in mid-air, then gone with a splash, vanished, rushing down through green and warm water into black and cold water, down through increasing pressure into the death-like region of ooze and slime and old decay; then up again, back to colour and light, his lungs almost bursting, till suddenly he breaks surface again, holding in his hand the dripping, precious thing that he went down to recover. He and it are both coloured now that they have come up into the light: down below, where it lay colourless in the dark, he lost his colour too.

{C.S. Lewis- Miracles}

...And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."

{Isaiah 9:6}

Wallflower Tendencies

On the precipice of a busy weekend filled with parties and holiday cheer, I find myself preparing to face an inevitable evil:

Talking to people I don't know.

Oh, the horror!

I dread small talk. Or rather, I'm not good at it.

It's not as though I dislike people on the basis of not knowing them- I just get stressed and clammed up when a meeting occurs. When it comes to small talk I am an epic fail. If I don't know someone, beyond a few intro questions I run out of things to say. For someone who had a lot of random blind dates for date parties in college, you think I would have made some improvement in this area, but you would be wrong. First impressions are rarely smooth-sailing for me; they are more like a perfect storm of uncomfortableness and forced questions.

There are things I consider myself good at, such as cooking, choosing outfits, holding my own in a sports-related conversation or giving unqualified relationship advice, and then there are things I am less-inclined to, like pop-culture references, making music recommendations and talking to strangers. Those do not come naturally for me.

I am thankful that I live with MG because my social anxiety, as I have found out, is not weird. Or maybe we are just weird together, which I can also live with because MG is very funny and likes to talk about novels and eat chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs. I can appreciate all of those qualities. We have been, among other things, known to avoid random acquaintances at church, disappearing with the stealth of undercover spies until the coast is clear while one of our friends like CC, for example, hugs and greets every familiar face she sees. It's torture.

It's a deceiving sort of anxiety that we have because because we function normally in society. We both willingly joined a sorority and were actively involved in other activities in college. We have many close friends and both have jobs that involve talking to people for many hours of the day. When we are home with KS, we are rarely in our rooms because we are hanging out together. KS is good influence because she is nice to everyone, could talk to a wall if you asked her too and she's a master at flirting. Flirting is advanced on the socializing ladder, in case you were wondering.

An added issue is that most everyone by their mid-20s seems to develop the habit of saying: nice to see you. It is a practiced response and many people seem to say it without much consideration to whether they have met you or not. I like believing that politeness should be genuine, not generic. It is perfectly normal for two people to have run in similar circles and never met each other before- stranger things have happened, I assure you. My social anomalies give me a heightened sense of awareness around strangers, so I usually know if I have met you before. People who actually take the time to remember make themselves memorable to those who pay attention.

There are two things I have found that make meeting people easier: first would be that they are already a friend of a friend and you are meeting them in the context of people you already know. This makes any situation more automatically more relaxed because you are with people who put you at ease.

And the second? The second would be having a few drinks and hoping for the best.

Half the world is composed of people who have something to say and can't, and the other half who have nothing to say and keep on saying it.

-Robert Frost

Greater Restraint

I don't talk about my weakness for shopping all that much, but be advised:

I have a weakness for shopping.

This could be brushed off as: oh, all women love to shop, or my personal favorite, which is: I need this dress because I can wear it to work OR to dinner with my friends but I have finally come to the conviction that those excuses are just that- excuses. I am a materialistic human being and while more socially acceptable, it doesn't make it any better than other vices.

I am blessed in that I have no debt and actually have money saved. I trivialize my retail spending by thinking that because of the fact that I am debt-free, I'm justified in spending what is there, when in fact I would rather be in an established pattern to tithe to my church and save first. I know what I want to do, but practicing it is a different story because that means changing my habits.

I met with my dad and my family's financial advisor last week to discuss my investments, and also moving forward what would be the best way for me to save more of my income. Saving more for me will mean actually having a budget, taking a close look at where I spend my money and deciding which areas can give a bit. I say actually having a budget because up until now, I haven't actually had one. I know- ridiculous. I like to throw out the adage used by liberal arts majors everywhere of I don't do numbers, but we're talking calculator work here. Definitely something a college graduate can handle.

Oh, math. I still don't like you.

I've have budget-related discussions with friends also recently, and found that many people are still doing what I'm doing: eye-balling their expenditures vs. their income on their online statements and just trying to keep expenses in-check. I have even started emailing my friend BF for accountability with my shopping habits- telling her what I buy when I shop, when I buy it and how much it cost. For every $100 I spend, I also have to get rid of two articles of clothing from one of my closets*. She actually called me the other day as I was departing the Anthropologie dressing room (impeccable timing) and as I confessed where she was, she replied with "this is your conscience speaking, it's time to leave."

My bank actually breaks down my monthly spending into categories online. This is great but also alarming, and as I start digging deeper into my spending and keep going into months further back I have been disappointed at how much money I spent on retail while I was living at home with my parents through May of this year. Money that could have been invested or saved for spending on more furniture for my house in Dallas. I was gchatting with KR regarding this and we were wondering how much of a disaster unchecked spending creates when women get married and have never been told "no."

I am thankful that I have much more of an awareness of spending now than I did this time two years ago, when I was fresh out of college and my parents paid for everything. It sounds elementary, but you don't understand the satisfaction and independence of financial freedom until it's actually yours. Granted, instant gratification would tell you to buy the new boots now because retirement is not any time soon, but given a bit of perspective and some financial goals, I can now more easily walk away.

{If this were a talk show, you would clap now.}

It would be bold of me to claim that Neiman Marcus and J.Crew are dead to me, but avoiding them does leave more zeroes in my bank account. I refuse to be a slave to money- a paycheck is just a means to live a life, not perpetuate a lifestyle.

We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.

-Winston Churchill

*I have a full closet at my house in Dallas and additionally one in my room at my parents' house. I know, it's shameful.

Thanks Eve

I have discussed before my Community Group; a Bible study of girls my age that meets every Thursday night. I love it- it's a great opportunity both to learn about God and about my friends who share that time.

We did fun, social things over the summer since the teachers who get summers off were in and out on vacation, then met a few weeks ago to get back into a routine with the fall approaching and everyone back in school mode. I may not be in school, but I like when everyone settles back down, sharpens a few #2's and restores sanity to my mind so that I don't pop a blood vessel thinking about how everyone is having the time of their life while I'm at work.

That's a big fear of mine: missing out on fun.

So Thursday night rolled around last week (which was not spent blogging, I know) and as our friends dragged themselves into our house, we fed them semi-stale kettle corn and got into our discussion. Anyone who works or goes to school knows that Thursdays are a conundrum. You are happy that the week's almost over but completely exhausted from all of the working and the waking up early; you're happy to see your friends but your eyes are only half-open.

We all recognize this delirium and abate it as best we can during our hour and a half window of Community Group. This past Thursday we were in our discussion of the first chapter of Luke, one of the Gospels in the New Testament of the Bible, and we got to talking about Mary, who found out she would become pregnant with Jesus, and Zecheriah's wife Elizabeth when she found out after a lifetime of infertility woes that she too would have a child.

Elizabeth went into seclusion during her pregnancy, which segued into how awesome it would be to sit around for months and watch movies and read books while pregnant (unlike women today who work full-time until their water breaks). Since none of us can relate to pregnancy, we then detoured into talking about how women in Biblical times who were "incapacitated" could spend that week out of every month chilling out in the red tent. A better explanation might be that the red tent predated Midol.

What brilliance, we thought, to just let women go hang out together, be hormonal and eat chocolate in peace (or cocoa beans, as someone pointed out that Hershey's was not yet in business). And let's be honest; the ability to have a baby is an amazing gift, but it is a privilege that your body prepares for and recovers from for most of your life.

People paint the red tent to seem like women were shunned back in those days and had to hide out, but we thought it sounded kind of awesome... no complaining to the outside world that your abdomen is staging a coup on your body and affecting your ability to rationalize, no having to say "it's nothing" when someone male asks you why you are in a bad mood and/or crying. Throw in masseuses and central air conditioning and I think we could sell a lot of people on the idea.

Now to convince the outside world we need 4-5 days off every month... we'll have to discuss that at a later meeting.

If women are supposed to be less rational and more emotional at the beginning of our menstrual cycle when the female hormone is at its lowest level, then why isn't it logical to say that, in those few days, women behave the most like the way men behave all month long?

-Gloria Steinem

Summer of My (Joyous) Discontent

This being the 31st, I am gladly waving good-bye to August and to summer. It's not that I haven't enjoyed my summer at all, it's just felt like more of a transitional time to me the past several years because summer has always been when I move or relocate. Summer has felt restless.

End of summer also signals the significant slow-down of wedding season.

Emailing my RSVP for SR's wedding rehearsal dinner a few weeks ago, I tried to word it to sound non- depressing, but somewhere in the short email I had to convey that I would not be opting for the "and guest" portion of my invitation.

"I won't be bringing a date- it's just me!"

Never has there been a less enthusiastic use of an exclamation point.

I doubt that I will ever bring a date to a wedding, unless: a.) it's someone I am actually dating and comfortable with asking that of him and I'm positive that it does not coincide with an important sporting event, or b.) in finding that I am the only one of my friends not in a relationship and seriously need a plus one. Luckily, I don't have to worry about that yet.

Operative word being yet. 

As a result of my friends marrying loving and wonderful guys, I find it hard not to look around at the increasing number of husbands showing up to social events with my friends (their wives), and hear myself think: "I want one too!"

Part of me loves this stage of my life. I like the freedom I enjoy with my schedule and my budget (or lack thereof). I am figuring out the real world for myself. I got to live in New York, I work with good people, I live near my family, I have hilarious roommates in a cute little rental house with a dog who LOVES IT when one of us walks in the door and I am in a Community Group with new and old friends who encourage me in my faith. Life is great.

And yet.

And yet marriage seems to be where real adult life happens. Sometimes, as a Single, you feel like you are still in your track suit, warming up for a big race; stretching your quads and doing jumping jacks in your Adidas gear while others were somehow afforded an inexplicable head-start. Marriage grounds people, makes them more established with the house thing, the kid thing, the 30-isn't-actually-that-far-away thing in general. And you know what the great part is? They get to do all of it with the person they love most in the world.

I look at my married friends and I'm envious of the pair; the team dynamic. I'm not delusional enough to think that marriage is all love letters and weekend getaways- I know that you have to work for what you have and that, like anything else, you have good days and not so good days. The better and the worse.

I feel like it's normal to want that, right? Something in me is annoyed with myself for admitting it, because I'm at a place in life where dating someone you actually like, who actually likes you back is an audacious enough aspiration in itself; making marriage seem distant, unattainable and something everyone else gets to do.   

And yet.

And yet in the midst of feeling discontented, I try to look at what God could be teaching me through this. Patience? Peace? Gentleness? Joy? Joy has taken on a new meaning to me because I spent a great deal of my discontented summer searching for it constantly. Joy is not found in perfectionism. Joy is not found in things. Joy IS found when spending time with my family, realizing for the thousandth time that I could not possibly ask for better friends, focusing on the things I do well and finding satisfaction in my relationship with God as opposed to seeking it in a relationship with another person.

At the end of the day, I know that I often forget I am a mere 24-years-old, a whippersnapper by most calculations, and I'll probably look back on this phase of my life and realize that I didn't always appreciate it enough for what it was. After work today I got to go to the gym without needing to be home at a certain time, I cooked a late dinner; a new recipe I had been eyeing, I got to sample all four of the different flavors of sherbet that MG brought home and then finished my second novel of the week undisturbed on the couch. Everything was at my leisure; my whim. I feel certain that many moms of toddlers would have killed for a night like mine.

Watching friends get married makes you realize that from now on, timing is not the same. Whereas everything was on the same clock for the first 22 years of life, it doesn't work that way any more, but it's actually okay. You embrace it. It's just important to see that there's also nothing holding you back. Not marital status, not a job or school or geographical location or anything else.

 

Nothing is holding me back, either.

Scatter joy.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson 

The Red Pen

You know what makes me completely uncomfortable? I am talking uncontrollably squeamish, not just a compulsive-small-talk-until-the-elevator-reaches-the-next-floor kind of uncomfortable.

 

It is unbearable for me to watch someone as they read something written by me. 

The beauty of having blog is that I write alone, post my musings or B.S., whichever is the order of the day, then I just leave it there and whatever happens next is up to the world. You read it if you want to and I go on with my life, having cleared my thoughts and memories like Dumbledore with his Pensieve. 

 

Since there is mixed company and I have real-life friends who have are blog-loyalists, occasionally one of them will check it in my presence. It's almost like watching a car accident- you don't want to look, but you do, you want to make sure everything is okay, followed by: Are they laughing? Is there a spelling or grammatical error that is glaringly obvious? Shouldn't they be done reading by now? Are they faking a reaction because I'm sitting right here? 

 

And worst of all: What if they hate it?

I was in a situation at work recently, after having worked on a project, where I had to literally sit across from someone as they poured over every word I had written. I didn't know how uncomfortable I was watching someone read my work until I realized that I could not follow my instinct to get up and leave or hide behind a filing cabinet until they were done. I cringed, trying to gauge a reaction and pretended to find my legal pad fascinating as I waited for a response. Like watching a crucial at-bat, a putt in sudden death or a game-changing field goal, I didn't want to look for fear that doing so would ruin everything. If there is any part of me that likes facing confrontation, I still haven't found it yet. 

The experience was good for me, the response to my work was positive, and made me think that if I desire to write more seriously or professionally, I need to get used to some editing. Just don't make me watch, okay?

There is but one art, to omit. 

-Robert Louis Stevenson

Enjoying As Of Late

When you get accustomed to doing something, it becomes part of your routine, and before you know it you've developed a full-blown habit.

After my two weeks with Lack of Internet, I have found that I am really a habitual blogger. And I like it. I like that I set aside time and energy to get my thoughts together and form them into something people read. I have never been the best at keeping a journal, but for some reason blogging has some quality that has kept me going for nearly two years and two blogs now.

This isn't a farewell, by the way. I'm not going anywhere!

The following are excerpts from books, movies, or things I have come across that have inspired me, made me laugh, think or otherwise impacted me in the past week:

I remember receiving a letter from the American publisher Harper Collins that said that: "reading The Alchemist was like getting up at dawn and seeing the sun rise while the rest of the world still slept." I went outside, looked up at the sky, and thought to myself: "So, the book is going to be published in English!" At the same time, I was struggling to establish myself as a writer and to follow my path despite all the voices telling me it was impossible.
-Introduction to The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho

^ Side-note: One of my old professors taught me to always read introductions, dedication pages and the like, instead of skipping over them to get to page one. So much is explained or can be inferred from these pages.

You have made known to me the paths of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence.
-Acts 2:28

The next morning I awaken to the sight of Zoe in her lavender polka-dot nightgown, standing on her tiptoes with her nose and palms pressed against my bedroom window. I study her earnest profile and the way a patch of her hair is spiked with static electricity.
I finally break her concentration and say, "What's so interesting out there, Zoe?"
She turns, runs over to the bed, and says, "It's snowing, Aunt Claudia!"
"Really?" I say.
"Yeah! Come look," she says.
I follow her over to the window, remembering how thrilling snowfalls were as a child. Now snow simply signals inconvenience, particularly in a city that quickly turns into a dirty, slushy, slow-moving mess. But I forget all of this as I look outside with my niece. I even feel a twinge of disappointment when I see only a few scattered flurries and no accumulation on the ground.
"It doesn't look like it's going to stick," I say. "Just your standard November tease."
...
"If it sticks, can we go sledding in the park?" Zoe asks.
"Sure," I say, as I think of how emotions seem so magnified when you're a child. Joy is more all-encompassing, disappointments more crushing, hope more palpable.
-Baby Proof, by Emily Giffen

Rebecca: (thinking to herself) Rebecca, you just got a credit card bill of $900, you do not need a scarf.
Mannequin: Then again, who needs a scarf? Wrap some old jeans around your neck, that'll keep you warm. That's what your mother would do.
Rebecca: You're right! She would!
Mannequin: The point about this scarf is that it would become part of a definition of your- of your psyche. Do you see what I mean?
Rebecca: No no no I do, keep talking!
Mannequin: I would make your eyes look bigger.
Rebecca: It would make my haircut look more expensive.
Mannequin: You would wear it with everything.
Rebecca: It would be an investment.
Mannequin: You would walk into that Allette interview confident...
Rebecca: Confident!
Mannequin: And poised...
Rebecca: Poised!
Mannequin: The Girl in the Green Scarf.
-Confessions of a Shopaholic, the movie

In summer, the song sings itself.
-William Carlos Williams

All Over Again

I started a class last Wednesday morning at my church in Dallas. I'll spend the next 11 Wednesday mornings among three friends and a room full of 50 or so others, who want to learn how to spend quality and consistent time in the Bible.

For someone who loves to read and who is also a Christian, I know that I have failed to combine both of those things into consistent Bible reading. My Bible studying up to this point has been more random and sporadic; I'm looking to make it more methodical and applicable to my daily life. For all the time I've spent reading books by Rick Warren, C.S. Lewis and other Christian minds, I've successfully edged the Bible without reading it in its entirety. Ever. I have always blamed it on not knowing "how" to read it without getting lost somewhere around Moses. I've read chapters and books here and there, but nothing cohesive.

Truth be told- the desire hasn't always been as strong as I find it to be now, to learn more.

I have been attending church my entire life, became a Christian at age 12, and have more or less sought God mostly depending on my circumstances. The more I feel I need God or want something from Him, the more I spend time praying and studying and in the Bible. This means that the opposite is also true; if life is coasting along, I don't seek God when I feel I don't "need" Him as much. Truth be told- that is my own misconception, because I need God all the time. Everyday. The most important relationship in my life cannot thrive with such a lack of effort my my part.

It was encouraging to walk into a room that morning with all of those people, dressed in their business casual, consuming coffee by the gallon and ready for a full day at work. There people have also made a small sacrifice to wake up once a week for a 6:30 AM class.

I've sadly never done anything like this before, but I'm optimistic as to how 11 weeks can make a difference. I think it comes at a good time- the friends I do Bible Study/Community Group with just wrapped up our study of Galatians on Thursday, and we will have less of a standard format as to what our studies will look like over the next two months since summer has arrived.

My friend MK's younger sister is home from college for the summer and confessed to her the other night that she prefers hanging out with us because we seem to be pretty entertaining in our post-workday delirium. This is after we readily agreed with my roommates that Community Group is the thing we most look forward to during the week.

That might qualify me as the most boring 24-year-old in the history of my age group, but I'm strangely okay with it.

"The trouble is that relying on God has to begin all over again every day as if nothing has yet been done."
-C.S. Lewis