I'm Probably Crazy

Today, I drew the paper that said "Something you miss."

The fact is, I miss a lot of things.  Some of them are actual physical things you can hold in your hand, and some of them are more figurative, and don't even get me started on the people I miss...

But the paper asked about a thing, and as materialistic and silly as this may seem, my first thought was this dress.

I only got to wear that dress once - on my college graduation day.  I paired it with my string of pearls, and felt exactly like Audrey Hepburn.

It was the perfect little black dress for me - simple, clean, and classy.

Unfortunately, though, in the post-graduation-moving-halfway-across-the-state shuffle, it (and several other nice dresses) got donated instead of packed.  Camp life didn't require me to attend a ton of events with the little black dress uniform, so I didn't discover that it was missing until several months later.  I actually went to the Women's Shelter store to see if I could find it, but no such luck.  I told one of the employees what had happened, and how long ago it had been, and she looked at me like I was truly crazy.

Maybe I am crazy, but 5 moves later, I still find myself hoping it might mysteriously turn up again one day.

New Year's Resolutions? Not My Thing.

But I'll make a resolution on any other day of the year.

Really, it's quite ridiculous, this little part of me that's so determined to not do something a certain way just because that happens to be the way everyone else does it.  For quite a while, I didn't make resolutions on New Year's Day, or Eve, or what-have-you, just because that was the time that everyone else made theirs.

Not because I-know-I-won't-keep-it-so-why-try, or because I-think-we-should-make-life-decisions-not-year-long-resolutions, or anything like that.
No.  My only problem was that everyone-else-does-it-and-I'm-not-going-to-be-like-everyone-else-if-I-can-help-it.

Don't get me wrong here - I was a resolving fool.  I could make resolutions with the best of them.  And fail with the best of them...

But starting on New Year's? Never.  Well, to be more truthful, my journal from 1999 may have some resolutions in it...

My sister, I'm sure, has quite given up being my accountability partner for any of these middle-of-the-year resolution plans, because I can justify myself (to myself at least) into or out of anything, no matter how reasonable she may be in her steady efforts to keep me accountable, or how ridiculous I may be in my efforts to get out of things.

So, you may imagine how much I surprised myself last year when I made a New Year's Resolution, albeit somewhere around January 5th or so as I recall - but still - closer to New Year's than ever before.

And, how much more surprised I was when I kept my resolve throughout the year.
I did slip once, which I justified, and which may or may not really have been necessary, but the fact remains - I proved something to myself in a major way:

It is possible to make one of these resolutions and keep it for the duration of an entire year.

Also?  Let's talk about the fact that this was a resolution not to buy myself any clothes.

NOT TO BUY MYSELF ANY CLOTHES In case you didn't hear correctly the first time.

Now, in case you haven't noticed, I'll tell you a few things:

• I'm a woman
• I care about how I look - specifically how I dress
• A year spans across all four seasons - Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter

Shockingly, I was fully clothed at all times (not in rags either!), I had a warm coat, an embarrassment of riches in the scarf and swimsuit department, and more button-ups than a woman who works at a summer camp should ever have need of.  And dresses.  So. Many. Dresses.  Shorts were a little freak-out moment, as you may remember.  But that was the only point where this was actually mildly difficult.  And I say mildly, because really? 5 pairs of shorts is plenty for a woman who also has the blessing of a washing machine and dryer in her apartment.

All in all, I learned a lot about myself from the whole experience, and I really feel like a different person as far as shopping goes.  We'll see what this year holds as far as whether we've actually killed the shopping habit as I would have liked to.

So, lessons learned:

• New Year's Resolutions can actually make a difference in my life, and my habits
• I can actually keep a resolution if I really determine to do it

Therefore, you can bet I made a resolution this year:

I'm going off processed sugar for a year.

There.
I said it.

Guys, I'm really scared about this one, and I'm afraid it may be harder than last year
*cringe*
Throughout my entire life, I've consistently craved sweet way more than salty or sour or savory.  And I know I have got to make a change.  I've gone off sugar for a few months at a time before, but I always go back to old habits of putting so much junk into my system.  Now that I know I can practice self-control, though, I'm going to do it for an entire year, so hopefully I will learn to get my sweet tooth under control.

Now, please don't think the point of this post was to say "Look at me and what I accomplished already, and what still-greater things I'm going to accomplish, because I'm Superwoman."
The point of this post is that I need you, and you, and you to know, so that you can keep me accountable to this decision.
Also I'm hoping it's a good way to revive the faith of some of you that have experienced some difficulty in keeping me accountable in the past.

Also, I think it's worth noting that I really don't think I'm going to make a huge change in my life by breaking a habit for a year, then returning to the way I was.  I will be coming up with some sort of plan to keep myself under control this year with the shopping - maybe one item a month or something?
Not sure yet, but I'll let you know.

Also, have you ever seen so many colons and bulleted lists and hyphens in a single post?

Also, do I say "also" too much?

I would do it all over again if I could.

The first writing prompt in the Blogtember challenge was to write about where or what I come from.
First, lets just say that my cousin pretty much said it all last week with her Where I come From post.
Also?  I've already written this, and the end of this pretty much sums up what I call home.
If you want to see pictures of one of my many country homes, you can go here.
And these two poems say a lot about growing into who I am today, and what family means to me.

I'm big on being aware of your past, of knowing the building blocks of who you are today, and I think most of my poetry would tell you that.  I write almost exclusively personal poems dealing with my past - the good and the hard.

But sometimes, "where you come from" is not so distant in the past.  If you're like me, who you are today started about 5 years ago, and who you were then is someone that you hardly even know now.

I came to Camp Tejas in the Summer of 2008, hardly having any idea what I was in for.  Yes, I had learned all the facts about my job in my interview, and probably the words "Live, Serve, and Grow" were tossed around in that interview, but I had no idea just how much living, serving, and growing were going to happen in this place.

My first two summers - 2008 and 2009 - were filled to the brim with living and serving.
So much living.
And so much serving.
I was exhausted at the end of both, but so happy.  That living gave me the best friendships I could ever hope to have.
(The highlight of 2009? Meeting this girl, and knowing within the first five minutes that we were going to be friends forever.)

The growing, though, oh the growing.  That part is hard, and not always happy.  I am so glad we grow physically the most when we are tiny children and our memories are not fully developed enough to store that pain.  Growing emotionally is hard.  I can't imagine how hard growing physically is.

2010 was the year of growing - of fighting battles and learning there isn't always a clear winner.  Things aren't always as black and white as you think they are.

I stayed away from camp in 2011.  I realize now it was probably a mistaken effort to avoid more painful growth, but I also realize that it was a needed absence.  Without that absence, I wouldn't have returned after I graduated and become full-time in camping ministry.
Sidenote:  It's still weird to me to say "Oh, I work in camping ministry" like someone would say "Oh, I'm a banker" or something.

And if I thought 2010 was hard, I had no idea what was coming for me in 2012 and 2013.  I have fought more Apollyons than I thought existed in my life, and most of them stemming from unrefined parts of myself that I wish would just hide in dark corners, so I wouldn't have to chase them out.
But that's not the way it works in real life.  We have to fight those dark things out of the corners and into the open, or we will never grow.  We will never come from anything.

So, all that being said, I'm going to go ahead and cover the second writing prompt for Blogtember:

If you could take three months off from your current life and do anything in the world, what would you do?

First of all, when someone says three months, regardless of what they're talking about, my first thought is Summer - May to August - three little months in which so much happens.  I can't help it.  That is the 3-month time frame that my mind jumps to.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the thing I would really love, more than anything else in the world is to do Summer 2010 over again - to open up to all that growth that wanted so badly to happen, but had to wait; to more quickly welcome the me who would eventually come from that time.

I've never had a big desire to travel or do something crazy different with my life than what I'm doing now.  Sure, I have dreams, and I've been to some places, and I'll probably go to some more.  As a result of camp, I now have friends in Australia, Thailand, South Korea, South Africa, Kenya, Wales, and Ireland, for goodness' sake.  I feel like I will probably do some traveling in my time, but the thing I would actually spend my 3 months on without regretting a minute of it?
Washing dishes, and fixing bloody noses, and cleaning cabins, and laughing, and crying, and growing.

She's Alive, and She's Even Guest Posting!

It is now September, and woefully past the time when I should have picked this poor little blog back up out of the dust I left it in for the Summer.  But man, did this Summer require a doozy of a recovery time.
I sat back and looked at my life the other day, and realized that, just about every season since January of 2012 I've been doing new things and learning new aspects of Camping Ministry.  Summer was the same thing again.  This Fall retreat season is the first time that I know what I'm doing because I've done it before.
That's a whole lot of growing and stretching and learning to experience.  I have succeeded at things I never imagined myself capable of.
I've also failed miserably, and received much grace, for which I am so grateful.
For curiosity's sake, I just went back and read last year's coming-back-from-the-summer post.  Friends, I could say most of those things word for word about this year and they would be equally true.  Summer at camp is beautiful and fulfilling in a way that a relaxing vacation could never be, but it sure is hard.

That's all you're going to hear about that.  I'm going to pick this blog back up (sort of) like I never left off, with my first challenge!  I've decided to participate in the Blogtember challenge this month... and since I'm already a week late in hopping on this bandwagon, we'll just have to see how it goes.  First post - about where I come from - to come tomorrow!

Now, as some of you might suspect from the title of this post, I have another first going on as well - my first guest post!  My cousin, Kassie, texted me a little while back and asked if I would be interested in guest posting on her blog even though I hadn't posted on mine in a little while.

Guys, I've seen guest posts on other blogs and thought about how fantastic and exciting it would be if I ever got to do one, but that was always in terms of years and years from now when I actually have time to focus on blogging.  I was blown away and so incredibly honored that Kas would ask me to guest post for her.

Kassie and I have been friends from day one.  So many of my friends talk to me about how they don't really know their cousins or family members, and every time I have that conversation, I am so grateful to have the Kitchen family in my life.

From blowing out each other's birthday candles and wearing each other's clothes when we were tiny to Sushi and cupcake dates today, I wouldn't trade my friendship with Kas for anything.  So to have her admire my writing enough to want it on her blog was so encouraging.

What I would trade?  My entire wardrobe for hers any day...

A Buzzword Study

Christians have a lot of buzzwords, almost to the point where it's kind of hilarious. (Dare I say a little ridiculous?)  But, I have to say, some "buzz-words" really do strike a chord in my heart and express, quite well, what we're all about.

One of those words is community. Christians are called to live in community. If we really wanted to be like the early church, we would "all be together and have all things in common." (Acts 2:44)
That's a big calling, and one that I don't see a lot of people living out on the daily. I know I hardly ever live it out - maybe once or twice a year when I get a sudden urge to make dinner for my friends.

Living in community is a huge calling and one we're never going to excel at because, lets face it, we're humans and we're selfish, and we're sinful. That's never going to change.

God does give us times in our lives, though, where it's easier to do the community thing. I'm in one of those right now. Ironically, it started about the time I moved off camp.

When I lived on camp, I was literally living out the whole "they were all together" part of Acts 2:44. There were somewhere around 30 of us believers (including children) all living on the same piece of land (in separate houses, thankfully, but still...) and I rarely took advantage of the opportunity to "fellowship" (sorry, you know I had to fit that one in here somewhere) with the others. Yeah, we had monthly pot-lucks, but I left as soon as I was done eating, and yeah, I ate dinner at people's houses, but I was usually one of the first out the door and I never bothered to have people over to my house. I was totally ignoring the whole "they had all things in common" part.

But since I've moved off camp, I've found myself lingering longer and longer in the evenings and not rushing off. I've found myself being hyper-sensitive to the little evidences that we are a community, and, though we (I) may not always get it right, we do sometimes get it pretty close to right:

A few months ago, we (the ladies in the office) were discussing the menu for the day and Paul was working away, but still listening, apparently, because, when we named lunch, he practically jumped out of his chair with a gasp and an over-joyed (and perhaps over-dramatic?) "We're having Hawaiian Stack-ups?!"

We share meals together quite frequently. Also? We all know what Hawaiian Stack-ups are, even if we don't all love them as much as Paul apparently does.
We live in community - we have food in common.

A while back, I was walking past my car, which had been parked in the same spot in front of the office all day, around mid-afternoon, and noticed a styrofoam cup sitting on the back of it. I didn't have to think twice - before I even walked over to it, I knew it was a full cup of coffee that Mike had left there. A few hours later, I teased Mike - "hey, you left your coffee on my car." He replied "yeah, I realized that later on, but then I though 'ah, Esther will know its mine and she'll have thrown it away already.'"

We know we each have our own little quirks, but even better - we know each other well enough that we're okay with knowing that other people know our quirks.
We live in community - we have quirks in common.

This past Spring, I was privileged to be a part of the first "Community Group" I've ever been involved in.  All my growing up years, I went to a small church that definitely believed in community, but we are an unusual church.  We have a very specific purpose that has been laid on our hearts by God.  Maybe one day I'll write about it.

But, because of the fact that we have that purpose, we don't have many of the "bells and whistles" (beautiful bells and whistles, might I add) that characterize so many churches in our American Christian culture.

Being a part of that community group was a very eye-opening experience for me.  I realized that living in community is not at all easy or natural.  I had to work hard to make sure that I actually made it there, and I won't lie, there were nights when I didn't particularly want to make the 30-minute drive to get there, but I did, and it was so worth it!

In our community group, we shared stories, we invented ways to help others with our meager resources, we learned, we grew in our faith, and we walked with each other through difficult times.

Also?  We walked together through good times - through baptisms, lunches at Ramos, happy-baby-days, weird baby TV shows, and cook-outs.

That's the thing about Christian community - it's not reserved just for sitting in a circle and talking about Jesus and how to love Him more and how to be more like Him (although that's one of my favorite parts), it's really about sharing His gifts with each other and facing life together whether it requires laughter or tears...or both at the same time.

How You Know You've Really Backed Yourself Into a Corner

I'm not a huge fan of New Year's Resolutions in general. I just sort of make resolutions whenever and for whatever length of time I please (such a rebel). But this year, I did make one New Year's resolution - not to buy a single stitch of clothing for myself for the entire year. Some of you may not realize what a big deal this is, but trust me, it's HUGE!

So far, I've been successful, and it's been a lot easier than I thought it would be. Hooray for that!

However, I've recently made another resolution which is equally important to me. This summer, I've decided to hold myself to a stricter standard of modesty even than the one to which we hold the girls on summer staff here at camp.

I've decided to enforce the fingertip rule on myself. Dun dun dun.

The reason this is such a big deal is that I have "monkey arms" for lack of a better descriptor. My fingertips are almost at my knees when I relax my shoulders and hang my arms by my sides.

I am not in the habit of wearing shorts that reach my knees.

In going through my wardrobe, I've found exactly 5 pairs of shorts that comply with my new rule, plus 4 more pairs that do, but are a little small.

Guys, I cannot survive the summer with only 5 pair of shorts!

Neither do I want to overturn my original resolution.

I guess the solution is to lose a little weight?

I had no idea this resolution thing would suddenly get really hard.

Sick Day

In college, I always gave myself one day out of the semester on which to be sick.  I'd feel a bug of some sort coming on, and give it one day.  Just one day.  On that one day, I would literally lie in bed and do absolutely nothing until I felt better...all day if necessary.

This actually always worked out very well for me.  Maybe because I rarely get sick.
I do, however, tend to run my body into the ground.  I stay up late, eat on anything but a well-regulated schedule, and sleep with my hair wet more often than I should.  So, eventually, after several months of this sort of treatment, my body would say "Okay, Esther.  Enough is enough."

Turns out, after college, I still need about one sick day a semester, and today?  Today was sick day.
But this time, I didn't feel it coming.  It came out of the middle of nowhere - I jumped out of bed at 4am to go vomit (TMI? Sorry.) and went back to bed, and repeated the performance about three times before I realized this was actually happening and I was not going to be able to go to work today.
It was quite a bummer because I actually really like work.

But I actually really liked today too.  Today I:
drank yellow Gatorade
ate M&Ms (not too many, though)
also ate chicken noodle soup
got plenty of mail (my birthday and Sarah's graduation are both coming up soon)
watched National Treasure 2.

After all these good things, and feeling somewhat better, I debated the merits of going in to work incredibly late, but decided that, just like in college, I needed that one full sick day.

So I stayed here at home where I made Peppermint tea in the morning, using my new kettle, which I'm pretty much in love with.



And drank Chai Green tea out of my favorite mug in the evening.  By the way, if you haven't heard of Chai Green tea, please go hear of it immediately.  Regular Chai has never been something that I crave, but man, this Chai Green business is wonderful!



I put my Christmas Tree up a few weeks ago


I may or may not have shamelessly stolen (*ahem* borrowed *ahem*) it from the unused LOT stash...

And I have these HUGE Christmas lights (also borrowed) hanging all along my living room wall


Seriously, they're enormous.  I've started hanging Christmas and birthday cards between them, and one bulb is as long as the short side of your average rectangle Christmas card!

And, as I said in an email about Lights of Tejas the other day, I love Christmas probably slightly more than your average five-year-old, so my otherwise dreary day was quite cheerfully spent at home.

Stay tuned tomorrow for one of my favorite recipes!

Home Tour: Kitchen

Remember when I said this a wile back and then never gave you more about my new house?
Well, friends, here is your more in the form of the first installment of my "Home Tour."  Sounds so imposing and fancy, doesn't it?  Well, don't worry.  There won't be many installments since there are only three rooms in my house...

So, without further ado, I present my kitchen, which I love possibly more than a human being should love a room:

When you walk in the front door of my house, you see this.



Yeah, that counter starts to collect junk really easily, so I have to be super careful about what I put there.  Mostly I restrict it to things that I need to return to people.  I'm a champion borrower lately.

Once you come around the side of that counter into my actual kitchen, there's the counter on the left, then my stove and oven against the wall.



One of the most long-standing items on my kitchen "wishlist" has been one of these little straw-holder things.



I looked high and low for one, but couldn't find it anywhere.  Slowly, I crossed everything off the list of things I needed for my kitchen, but still hadn't found a straw-holder.  You'd think it would be fairly easy to find, right?
But no; it is not at all easy.  I looked everywhere I went to get other kitchen stuff and couldn't find one.  Then, one afternoon, I was running into the Walmart in my tiny town - you know, the only non-super, non-24-hour Walmart left standing - to grab some toothpicks, and there it was, just sitting on the shelf waiting for me to waltz away with it.  Okay, so maybe I didn't waltz, but I was happy enough that I could have.

Another one of my favorite things about my kitchen is my fruit bowl.



It sort of came about by accident.  I've always stored my fruit in the crisper drawers of my fridge and have been entirely satisfied with the results.  The only thing I don't store in the fridge is bananas.  I only like them room-temperature.  I would set them on my counter, but that just looked rather unorganized - bananas sitting on the counter, so I decided to get myself a banana tree.  Then, when I went to the store, I had the choice of a banana tree or a fruit-bowl-banana-tree combo.
And the fruit-bowl-banana-tree combo was considerably cheaper.  I don't know, maybe I fell for some sort of gimmick or something, but so far, I have been completely satisfied with it - it just brightens up my kitchen.
Room-temp fruit on the other hand?  Still getting used to that.

Directly across from my stove is my sink.  I have no dishwasher, but, as I love washing dishes, this is not a problem at all.  If there were more than one person in the house, though, problems might arise...



Next to the sink, on top of my microwave, I have all of my cooking utensils and my cookbooks.



One of the best things about working and living at camp is that I can borrow or re-purpose things the camp isn't using anymore.  That little holder for my utensils is a display that the giftshop was throwing away because one of the hooks on the back is missing.  You better believe I snatched that right up, along with two others - one for shoes and one for scarves, which you will (maybe) see soon!

Life Lately

I don't know about you guys, but, while I love words and have really enjoyed having more of them on my blog recently, I've been missing pictures.  It's not that I haven't been taking them.  It's just that I haven't been posting them, so here's life lately, through my camera lens (and some words, because, who are we kidding?  I can't not use words).

Sunsets



I wish I could paint, but I can't, and pictures don't nearly capture them.  I'm still struggling to learn savoring instead of saving.

Perfect Saturdays
Last Saturday and today, I had every intention of sleeping in until ungodly hours, but, both days, I woke up fully rested at 8ish.  I know myself well enough not to jinx that well-rested feeling by making myself go back to sleep, so I've gotten up and stayed up. Side-note: Why in the world can't I wake up fully rested and ready to get out of bed like this on the mornings when I need to go to work?
Last Saturday, part of the reason I got up was because my dear friend Kae stayed at my house the night before and I wanted to get up and have coffee with her before she had to leave to go home.



Kae and I made coffee and went out onto my front porch to sit on the swing and enjoy the cool morning.  We talked just like we always do about life, thoughts, plans, the future.  As is pretty usual for us lately, we started talking about our some-day kids.
Then, I glanced out into my yard, just looking at the way the morning sunlight played on the still wet grass, and I saw our kids there.  For just a moment, as plain as day, I saw my girl with long blonde hair and Kae's little dark, curly haired boy about 4 and 5 years old I'd say, holding hands and running around a tree, their backs to us.
I've never even wanted a girl, but I knew she was mine and he was Kae's.  I'm not saying it was a vision or anything, but it was a calm, beautiful, reassuring little moment.

Getting Ready
Sometimes, a girl just wants to fix her hair and wear a little make-up.  These (somewhat) early Saturday mornings are wonderful for spreading girly implements all over the counter and taking my time to look pretty.



Girl Times
Kae wasn't the only one that visited last weekend.  Our friend Christy was here too.  Christy, Kae, and I have been friends only in our adulthood (translation: not for a particularly long time), but they are two of the six girls that I love and trust implicitly.  We met at Camp (Christy and I in '08, and then Kae in '09) and have pretty much been inseparable since day one.  I was Christy's Maid of Honor and a bridesmaid in Kae's wedding, and, in our world, that means a lot - it means I'm sticking by them and they're sticking by me for the long haul, even through the tough stuff.
The wonderful thing about us is that we can always enjoy time together without any hint of the "three's-a-crowd" syndrome, but we have wonderful individual friendships too.  Christy actually got here on Thursday, so she and I had Thursday night all to ourselves, then I had to go to work for a half-day Friday and Kae got here at about ten, so she and Christy had time to themselves since I ended up working til more like two, then we all went to town to buy things for my Operation Christmas Child box, then made dinner and watched Persuasion together.  Christy left, and Kae stayed the night, so she and I got our time to ourselves too.  It was a wonderful weekend and I can't wait til we all get to see each other again.



The cherry on top of our wonderful weekend?  Christy got a wonderful job.  Christy, you deserve it, dearest, and I could not be happier for you!

Jesus Times
I have been getting back into reading my Bible even when it's hard (blame Leviticus for the difficulty) and it's been so good!



A New-to-me Mug
As long as I can remember, my mom has had this one perfect mug.  It's the perfect blue, and holds the perfect amount of tea (it's a tad too small for the amount of coffee I like - we all have to have our vices, you know), it has the perfect handle, and is even the perfect weight when you hold it. I'm telling you.  It's perfect.
It may sound silly, but that mug is one of the things I miss most about my parents' house (ahem, other than my family, of course).
Well, Saturday  before last, I went to Goodwill with a friend in the afternoon and found the perfect mug!



Okay, so maybe it's not the perfect blue, but it's the perfect salmon pink and I am still so thrilled about it.

Candles
I never thought I would be a candle burner, but



I'm obsessed.  That's all.

Home
I went home last week.  Home is an interesting concept for me.  I spent the first twelve years of my life in the same house in a small neighborhood (well, my very first year was spent in a different house, but I have no memories of that house).
It was cozy, comforting, and secure, and to this day, I say I want to raise my family in a house just like that one, if not that exact one.  Probably not that exact one, honestly, because the neighborhood has sadly gone downhill.
When I was twelve, we moved to the country, and then moved back into town a year later.  Since then, my family has moved four times, but always in the country around the same small town.  I've loved all of our houses, but I've gotten to the point where they're just houses.  For years, I really struggled with the fact that we are such nomads.  It was hard for me to imagine having kids and not being able to take them to Grandma and Grandpa's in the same house every year.
My Nana has lived in the same house since my mom was six, and that house has brought such a stability to our family.  I can't think of our family without thinking of that house and I can't think of that house without thinking of our family.
Nana's house and our family are completely intertwined in my head.
But, when it comes down to it, house and home are not synonymous.
Home is my small town.





Home is a dirt driveway in the woods.



And mist rising from the pond in a cool morning.



Okay, eventually my family might live somewhere without a pond or away from the woods or even outside of Nacogdoches, but if/when they do, it'll be okay because home isn't even any of those things.
When you boil it down to it's very essence, home is simply where they are.

Sister Pictures
When I went home, I got the privilege of shooting Sarah's senior pictures (and some with friends, and some with her boyfriend).





She's graduating!
I'm still somewhat in shock over this fact.  I have even gotten a little teary-eyed about it.  My little sister is graduating from college.  She's so grown up!
Sarah, I love you and cannot wait to have less distance between us.

Also?  I got to take Baby to her chemistry class and to Starbucks



I feel like now when we walk into a coffee shop together, it's very possible that the barista thinks we're just friends rather than sisters a decade apart. (Maybe that's just me thinking I look younger than I do...)
That makes me incredibly happy and sad at the same time.


I can definitely wait several more years for you to graduate.

Baby, I love you, you beautiful goofball!
It was so wonderful to talk with you and share my favorite playlist with you.    Please forgive me for ever looking down on your taste in music, because you know what?  I'm listening to James Morrison now.  As I type these words. And I'm actually enjoying it.
I can't believe I just said that.

Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish

Living and working at a Christian Campground has it's good and bad sides.  Sometimes living here makes you forget that there's a "real world" out there.  Sometimes it can be shocking to walk around in town and hear people cuss at each other or see violence.

Pause for a second.  This doesn't mean that I live in a perfect little world out here.  Sure, we're humans.  We hurt each other with our words sometimes and don't always make the best decisions, but we have Christ as our example of how to love each other through the hard things and it's difficult to leave camp and see that the rest of the world doesn't have that.

Working for a Christian organization has many benefits as well though, not the least of which is getting emails with the best closings and signatures.  For example, my office mate's - "Grace and Peace."  How wonderful is that?

I'm pretty sure I found my all-time favorite a few days ago - "Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish."

I think the reason I love it so much is that it is SO contrary to what the world would tell us to do.  I even had a negative reaction when I first saw it.  Who wants to be hungry and foolish?

No, really.  Think about it.



The answer is nobody.  We don't want to be hungry, but . . .

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied."  Matthew 5:6
"For HE satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul HE fills with good things."  Psalm 107:9



We don't want to be foolish, but . . .

"The foolishness of GOD is wiser than men, and the weakness of GOD is stronger than men.  For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth.  But GOD chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; GOD chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; GOD chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of GOD.  And because of HIM you are in CHRIST JESUS, who became to us wisdom from GOD, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, 'let the one who boasts, boast in the LORD.'"  1 Corinthians 1:25-31

The world tells us to combat things like hunger and foolishness.  If you're hungry, make yourself a healthy meal.
It will satisfy you.
If people see you as foolish, study harder.  Read a textbook to gain knowledge.  Get a college degree.
It will bring you glory.



I'm not advocating not eating or not getting a college degree.  I'm not even saying we shouldn't try to combat hunger and foolishness, but the fact is, even when you do make yourself that healthy meal, you're most likely going to be hungry four or five (or less if you're me) hours later.
The hunger doesn't go away.  It's your reminder that you need to keep meeting your body's needs.
Even when you complete that college degree, you'll still trip down the stairs sometimes or get tongue-tied and forget what you were trying to say in a voicemail for that important client and end up feeling foolish (take it from one who knows).
We human beings weren't made to receive or possess glory, though we strive for it.



I spend a lot of my life trying to meet needs like hunger or wants like approbation because those needs and wants are a familiar and constant nagging at the back of my heart and brain.
But do I feel spiritual hunger and foolishness?  Do I feel a desire, an insistent need for Christ and His Word in my life?
I feel like half the time I'm just reading my Bible because that's what I'm supposed to do.  God can use that in my life, I know, but how much more could He use it if I was hungry for it?  If I knew I was foolish and needed Him to be wise?
I want to be hungry - to need and want the thing I'm reaching for.



So stay hungry, my friends.  Stay foolish.

Transitioning

Familiar:
The gold ring I wear on my right hand and the crown of thorns on my left
My chaco tan-lines
Hazelnut in my coffee
My cream colored dresser
The blue puffy chairs and indoor/outdoor carpet of the Mission - If I close my eyes I see it clear as day
The smell of "Linger" in my Scentsy warmer

Unfamiliar:
Aspartame in my coffee
Purple polish on my toes
The ticking of the clock in my living area
My flowered couch - I think I need to slipcover it
Clothes washed with scented laundry detergent

There's something so comforting about familiarity . . .  and so disconcerting about things you're unfamiliar with.

The other night I had to go home in the pitch darkness and I was not about to walk around camp in the dark, so I took a golf cart.  A golf cart without lights.
The night I'm speaking of didn't have a moon worth mentioning, so I drove the whole way home with hardly any light.  I was struck by the fact that I naturally turned where I should to stay on the road the whole way home.

It was familiar.

I recently made the transition from one office to another on camp.  In the "Summer Camp Office" where I was all summer, I wore shorts and a t-shirt all day.  There was no point in wearing anything else because you never knew when you might be required to jump into a game or climb up a ladder or run somewhere to solve a problem.
I didn't mind because I knew it was temporary.
To make myself feel pretty, though (because who are we kidding?  I can't feel pretty in shorts and a t-shirt), I made it a point to wear jewelry every day.  But the only necklace I wore was a small chain with a tiny map of my hometown hanging from it because anything larger than that would have been foolishness indeed.
When I moved into the "Retreat Office," I started wearing familiar cute clothes and decided to dig into the rest of my jewelry again after my long break.
The first day I put on anything other than my map necklace, I felt like it was literally weighing me down.
We are not talking about a big chunky necklace here.  (We're talking about the necklace with the purple shirt in this post, which, by the way, makes me incredibly excited about fall being here and having the chance to wear all my office-y clothes again.)
The necklace I put on may not have been heavy, but halfway through the day I had to take it off because it was bothering me so much.

It was unfamiliar.

Eventually, my feet will be familiar in their untanned state, I'll be able to wear other necklaces, and I'll be comforted by the ticking of the clock.
For now, I'm in a state of transition in lots of areas and I'm okay with that.

Don't mind me.  I'm really just playing around with the bare bones of a poem here.

Two Things

1.  I've always wanted to have the kind of house that people feel comfortable in - that people feel welcome into at any time.
Apparently I have that house.
This morning, I got up and went out onto the porch to have a quiet time.  I spent a good deal of time out there, and then went inside to make a quick smoothie.  The minute I turned off the blender, I heard a knock at the door.  This was odd, but I said "Yes?" and the door opened.
In walked one of my summer staffers.  All of the summer staff have been gone for a week and a half now.
I was definitely startled to see her, but it wasn't that surprising since she just lives in the next town over.  She walked in looking very sad and just joined me in the kitchen and started pouring her heart out.
Sure, I had to be at work in 15 minutes and it might have been an interruption to my morning, but it was so so wonderful to have that reassurance that people feel welcomed and comforted in my home.

2.  Longer even than I've thought about having my own house at all, much less having a house that people feel welcome into, I've wanted to be a runner.
I've never had any desire to actually run.  I just wanted to be a runner.
It just seems so cool, you know, to be a runner.  It just carries this connotation of health and fitness.  Not that being a ballerina doesn't carry that connotation or anything.  I just always wanted to be a runner.
Well guys, tonight I went on my first "real" run.
My old roommate came in for a few days to visit and she's lost a lot of weight and she's running a 5K soon.  She and one of my coworkers decided to run together tonight and I just jumped in to be able to spend time with them.  Best decision ever.
Okay, okay, so maybe we walked a little, ran a little, walked a little, ran a little, etc.  But we ended with lunges and stretches and everything and actually did a "work-out" and ohmygoshyouguys.
I'm hooked.  It was so exhilarating to push my body just a bit past what I thought it could do.
I definitely see more running in my future.

While I Was Gone

Man, I've missed this little space.  It feels good to be back.  I have to say, though, leaving for the summer was definitely a wise decision.

The summer.  Wow.  It's funny how, from the time you first learn the word even to the time you're earning a college degree, summer means freedom and escape - hammocks and beaches and picnics, you know?
Then you grow up and find out that the summer holds obligations and responsibilities just like any other time of the year.

Don't get me wrong here.  I loved my summer.  I treasured every day of it.  Well, maybe treasured is a little too strong of a word for every day, but it was a good summer.

Also?  It was a hard summer.  Frankly, the last three months were the hardest of my life - harder than any semester of my college career.  But hard doesn't necessarily mean bad.  This summer alone, I've learned so much about myself, my family, my Jesus, my heart, my friends.  I've been stretched beyond what I thought I could endure, and come through it all standing taller than before.



Remember last spring?  I thought I had grown so much then and now I've grown twice that much in confidence, though maybe not ability - I'm pretty sure all of my summer staffers knew I wasn't very adept at wielding any tool other than a screw driver or staple gun . . . and even those were probably sometimes doubtful.

It's strange to me that I've noticed this, but there's something different about the way I stand and walk and hold my head up, literally and figuratively, that wasn't there before.  It's seems the more responsibility placed on my shoulders, the more they straighten up.  I handled responsibilities on my own that I never knew I could.

I wasn't the only one growing this summer, though.  Baby came to work at camp for her first summer and it was a privilege/delight/blessing beyond words to watch her gain confidence in the beautiful young woman that we all know she is.  When I originally graduated from high school, I made the decision to go to college close to home and live with my parents for one reason - Baby.  Even at that young age, I knew she and I were similar.  We handle stress and friendships and life the same way.  I wanted to be around to help her through things that I had gone through.  Not to protect her, necessarily, but to be an example for her to follow - to let her learn from my mistakes because I didn't want her to make the same ones.

There was one thing, though, that was her own personal struggle - the thing between her and Jesus that I couldn't help her through.  She never knew she was beautiful.  Not that she thought she was ugly.  She just never saw the beauty that the rest of us saw in her.

I never struggled with self-confidence growing up.  I never thought I could win a beauty pageant, but I knew I was beautiful inside and out, so it was incredibly hard to watch Baby struggle through years when she probably didn't even fully know she was struggling.

Then this summer came and I watched her bloom under the influence of sunshine and hard work and good teaching and solid friendships.  She still has a long road ahead of her (don't we all?) but her eyes shine with a new light and that makes this far-away sister's heart happy.



I still remember my first (and second and third) summer, and all the growth I went through, so clearly, and it was beyond wonderful this year to watch that growth happening in the hearts of so many of our summer staff.  Baby was really just one of many that I watched bloom this summer.

This summer, my family came through the hardest trial we've ever faced and we're not out of it yet.  If there's one thing I've learned, it's that dark storms will come, but when we walk through them together, we come out stronger on the other side.


This storm rolled in suddenly as we were taking a walk around camp, our whole family together for the first time in eight months.  I didn't think of the beautiful symbol it was until weeks after I took the pictures.


Please forgive the blurriness. I just had to take a "family picture".

I have a new respect for Mom, Daddy, and both of my sisters.  That is all.

The thing, though, is that I know I couldn't stand as tall as I do now, Baby couldn't have her eyes opened to her own worth, and we certainly couldn't have come through our trials and faced our demons, collective and individual, this summer without help from One greater than ourselves.



Every good and perfect gift comes from the Father of lights and all glory goes to my Jesus for the changes and growth that happened in my life this summer.

Whew.  If you lasted to the end of this incredibly heavy post, I have a new respect for you as well.  And tomorrow I'll reward you with something lighter (maybe).

PS:  Are you missing My Life the Movie as much as I am?
Not that I have anything of that caliber coming up.  Sometimes, though, I just go back and read them to entertain myself.
That's all.  Good night!

Oh-my-gosh-you-guys

I'm posting this from my new house.
So excited!
More to come in a few days when I'm really settled.

Didn't I tell you I'd be back?

Well, here I am.

It's strange how something I've always really loved doing is hard after I've gotten out of the habit of it.
I'm not just talking about blogging.  This is about writing in general.  I haven't written any poems or essays lately either.  I've had countless ideas for blog posts or essays or poems, but I always told myself I didn't have the time to devote to actually writing them.
You know, people always tell you that you'll never have more time to do the things you love than you have right now.  I'm beginning to think they're right.
I probably should have just gone ahead and written.  It's hard now, sitting here staring at this old familiar box to think of anything to type into it.  I have a lot of pictures, just of pretty things that touched me this summer, but I don't have a lot of words right now.  Pictures will come in a huge photo-dump soon.

For now, know that the summer is almost over - we only have one more round of camp and then it's back to Retreat Season.  I'm in the process of moving into the retreat office here at camp to settle into my more permanent job.  People around here tell me I'm not going to get a break for a whole year - I was working on the Summer Camp side of things in the spring and summer (busiest times for Summer Camp) and now I am transitioning over to the Retreat side of things for the Fall which is the busiest retreat time.
But you know what?  I'm okay with that.  And not only that, I am happy.  There is no joy in life like that of knowing you're where God wants you to be.  I love my job working here, even if I don't really know what my new job entails yet.
Also?  I'm finally moving into a little apartment of my own.  I've been a nomad for the past 8 months and I cannot begin to tell you the satisfaction I feel at knowing that, in exactly one week, I'll be sleeping in my own little place.  Granted I'll still be a nomad because I'll only have it until next April, but I'm determined to make it a home and enjoy it while I have it.

Pictures to come as soon as I've moved in and gotten settled . . . And don't expect me around here again until then.

Believe it or not, I'm still alive

Well folks, it looks like this new life of mine doesn't leave much time for blogging.

And it's only going to get worse.

Actually, that depends on what you call "worse".  Personally I'm pretty excited about what's coming next.

Working at a Summer Camp, naturally I'm excited that summer is almost here.  When the camps arrive, this place comes alive with an energy and excitement that is just a pure joy.  Don't get me wrong.  There's still plenty of things about my job that stress me out.  It is a job and I am a human after all.  But I'm beyond excited about this summer, regardless of any stress that might befall me.

The bad news is that I've pretty much decided to shut down my blog for the summer.  It just seems to make sense because I'm going to be in between houses and I won't have much room in my schedule for anything other than camp stuff.  Plus, one of my favorite things about the summer is that it's an incredible chance to invest in other girls, something I'm very passionate about.  If I want to invest in the girls all around me, it just doesn't make sense for me to sit staring at a computer screen while they're right there.

So, I'll see you all on the other side of the summer!

Concerning Golf Carts

Before working at a camp, I never really thought that much about golf carts.

Now, they're a part of my everyday life.  There are several golf carts at camp and they each have a number.  And, I know it seems crazy, but each numbered golf cart has it's own personality.

Take, for example, The Phantom.  My first summer at camp was the same year all the golf carts arrived.  I was only summer staff, so I didn't have much to do with the golf carts.  I didn't pay too much attention to them, but at some point, Number Three began going by "The Phantom."  I don't know the story behind this nickname, but I'm pretty sure there is a story of some sort.  Somebody actually put vinyl letters below the number 3 that said The Phantom.

Recently, I was doing my laundry late into the night, as in later than one in the morning, so I was going back and forth through the same passage rather frequently.  The last time I walked through that passage (very late), The Phantom was there in the passage, plugged into an outlet and charging, next to a room where no one lives.  It hadn't been there before, so I jumped out of my skin when I saw it.  (Come to think of it, strange things tend to happen when I'm doing my laundry late at night.  Maybe I should change my laundry time.)


The next morning, I got up around 7:30.  The Phantom was already gone.

Nowadays, as full time staff, I frequently use a golf cart during the day if I need to run several errands around camp.  I almost never drive The Phantom.  Not because of the name; simply because The Phantom lists dramatically to the left and that gets rather annoying.  However, a few days after the laundry night incident, The Phantom was my only option other than my feet, so I took it.  After accomplishing a few things, I realized I had left something behind in my office, so I drove back, parked The Phantom in "the golf cart shed," and ran in my office.

I was in there maybe two minutes.  When I came back out, The Phantom was already gone.

Like I said, I almost never drive The Phantom, but I'm not picky.  I usually just run to the golf cart shed, hop in a cart that isn't The Phantom, and take off.  I never even look at the numbers, because you don't have to look.  If you just glance, you can tell which one is The Phantom because it leans so much.

Probably 9 times out of 10, I end up grabbing Number Five.  I don't know why.  I just do.  Out of any number of carts that may be in the shed, I almost always hop in that one.

You wanna know Number Five's quirk?  It beeps when it's in reverse.
It beeps in about four different tones, choosing randomly at it's own free will.

You wanna know my favorite tone?  (please sense the sarcasm here)  The one that sounds like a cat dying.  Something like "mrrraaaammp" (yeah, I should never try to be an onomatopoeia-spelling-inventor).  It's just an awful sound.

Number Five is a green golf cart (as is The Phantom).  I've started trying to only grab red golf carts.  We'll see how it works out.

Also?  I'm considering giving Number Five a new name - The Dying Cat.
Oh, you don't think it would be a good idea to get vinyl letters made?

A Perfect Day

On Thursday, one of my very dear friends from home, Christine, had a birthday celebration at the Houston Zoo.  She'd invited me a few weeks ago and sent me a message saying she totally understood if I couldn't get off work, but that she had decided to invite me because she would really love to have me there. I really wanted to go, but I pretty much assumed I wouldn't be able to go.  You see, this past week was Spring Break, a perfect week for my friends who are either college students or high school teachers to have a trip to the zoo, but a horrible week for me to try to go anywhere because I work at a retreat center.

At a retreat center, "Spring Break" means "the-time-when-there-are-a-lot-of-guests-all-week-and-pretty-much-all-of-the-employees-are-doing-two-or-more-jobs-at-any-given-moment."
Not a good time to suddenly ask for a day off.
In fact, when I first got Christine's message, I was brave and asked for the day off that very afternoon (technically two week's advance notice), but then the next morning, when I saw all the work that had to be done, I retracted my request.

Fast forward about a week, and my sisters are here visiting.  I'm not sure what it was, but something about that day with them made me really really want to celebrate Christine's birthday with her.  I started thinking how great it would be if I could go and surprise her.  Honestly, the surprise idea was the simplest way to disappoint the least amount of people.  This way Sarah and I could just talk about it and plan it in hopes that somehow it would work out.

You see, besides the fact that it was Spring Break, there was also the fact that I don't have a car right now.  So, at first the surprise idea was just something that Sarah and I told each other was a nice idea, with no real expectation of it actually working out.

Then, the next morning (that's Tuesday morning), I looked at the schedule for Spring Break.

I was not on the schedule for anything (besides my actual job) on Thursday.
That in itself was a little miracle.

So I thought about it all day and even half-heartedly felt out the possibility of borrowing a car from one of my co-workers for "any time in the future if I might need to go to Houston or something."
That didn't seem too promising, and, honestly, I didn't expect it to.  I don't let people borrow my car (or, didn't let people borrow it when I had one), so I generally avoid asking people if I can borrow theirs.

Then, Wednesday morning came and out of nowhere I just had a burst of confidence that it would work out and I would be able to go one way or another.  So I asked for Thursday off.

Please note that Thursday traditionally comes immediately after Wednesday.  Consult any calendar you wish and you will find that's the way the week works.

Also, please note that I used to work in Career Services where, on a weekly basis, I conducted a training for student professionals that drilled into their heads that they should not give less than two week's advance notice  of a day-off request except in the case of illness or emergency.

So here I am doing something that goes against everything I've ever taught other people.
Fortunately I have a very gracious and understanding supervisor and he gave me the day off.

But there was still the fact that I did not have a way to get to Houston.  Finally at the end of the day, I worked  up enough courage to outright ask someone to borrow his car the next morning and take it for a spin in the big city.  Wouldn't you know he let me borrow it without any qualms.

Thursday morning I sort of couldn't believe this was actually working out, but it was.  I was on my way to Houston to surprise Christine.

Now, here we might should mention that I have never been able to pull off a big surprise in my entire life.  I really don't even try.  I just blab entirely too much about big things like that.

So, I get to the zoo and parking is simply crazy because, you see, it's Spring Break and not only is Spring Break a good time for College Students and High School Teachers to go to the zoo, it's also a great time for young families to go to the zoo, so the zoo is requiring everyone to park in the Hospital district because the regular zoo parking lot is full.  After navigating the zoo of Houston traffic, I finally find a parking space in a garage that looks like this on the outside.



I'm not kidding.  It's gorgeous, right?  But don't let the outside fool you.  The inside is treacherous - full of sharp turns and steep hills.  Not fun.  Especially not fun in somebody else's car.

I get out of the parking garage and am so turned around I have no idea where I should head to get to the zoo because there are lots of signs that say "Zoo Parking this way," but no signs that say "Zoo this way."

I stand for just a moment and take in the scene.  I am basically surrounded by two types of people:
1)  People in scrubs (I'm in the hospital district right now, remember?)
2)  Young families
The part of the Hospital District that I'm in?  St. Jude's, of course, so I have no idea if any of these young families are headed to the zoo or to the Hospital.

I find a red-headed mom with two kids and a grandmother with an iPad.  They seem lost too, so I ask them if they're headed to the zoo.  They are!  So we join forces, become friends, and navigate to the zoo using the iPad.

All this time, Sarah's sending me texts like "at the tigers!" and "entering the African forest"  Pretty entertaining.

So I finally make it into the zoo and text Sarah to say that I've arrived.  I look up from my phone and see giraffes, so I start walking toward them because they're one of my favorites.  I'm waiting for Sarah to text me and sort of glancing around and suddenly I see Christine about three yards ahead with her back to me, taking a picture of Sarah and another friend in front of . . . the giraffes!

The opportunity to scare Christine is just too perfect, so I walk up behind her, holding my finger to my lips because the others have noticed me by this point, and poke her in the ribs.

She turns the other way from me, notices a woman walking past, and, as I found out later, thinks "Well, that woman had some nerve."  I say "Hey," and she turns around, and we both scream so loudly that our whole entire quadrant of the zoo turns to see what the commotion is.

It was a beautiful moment and I cannot begin to tell you how wonderful the rest of that day with my girls was. There are some friendships that I will not lose without a fight.  And these girls are definitely not going anywhere for a long time, no matter how much physical distance may separate us.

Although I won't try to tell you how wonderful the day was, I will share some pictures (and a few words) with you.


I just love elephants so much, and this baby was such a joy.  It reminded me of Babar the elephant from one of my favorite childhood stories.  It's just so fuzzy and has such darling eyelashes!


Clearly I just love hoofed animals in general.


And birds too.  The more colorful, the better.

After our lovely day, we went to the Cheesecake Factory and sat in a booth thoroughly enjoying the benefits of Daylight Savings Time, namely eating our entire dinner with natural light streaming in the windows.




This is definitely one of my favorite pictures of these two.

It was cold in the restaurant, so I ordered coffee.  It came in a glass cup, and what's a girl to do when she receives a glass cup of coffee but take pictures of the creaming process?  (Or have her sister take pictures of it.)


Good job, Sarah!

Eventually, of course, the day had to end, but let me tell you, I am still smiling because of it.

Sister Time

What?  You didn't know "out for the weekend" meant you wouldn't hear from me for the next nine days?

My time with the sisters was fantastic.  There were a few hiccups in the morning and we got to Austin later than we had intended.  (I may or may not been a little over-dramatic about things.  Sorry sisters.)  But once we got to Austin, we had a simply beautiful day:

12:15 - Watched The Secret World of Arrietty (based on the book The Borrowers) and really enjoyed it.  For me, the best thing about this movie was that, even though Baby and I are nearly ten years apart, we had both read this book and could enjoy the movie equally and comment on it as peers.  So we all thoroughly enjoyed our little splurge.  Oh, why was it a splurge, you ask?  Because we went to the Alamo Drafthouse, which was awesome.  Since we had eaten breakfast not too long ago, we got milkshakes, of course, and had a blast even though we missed the first fifteen minutes of the movie.

Somewhere around 3:00ish - Went to the mall and ate "lunch" in the food court.  There's just something so good about a greasy piece of mall-food-court-pizza every once in a while.

3:30ish - Just walked around and around the mall talking and laughing

Finally, at about 6:00 - Did a little shopping

8:30 - Ate more unhealthy food.  Fresh pretzels + dinner = happiness

9:00ish - Headed home

Late into the night - Played a full game of Phase 10 with the co-workers

It was beyond lovely to have a day of completely disregarding time.

Becoming Rosie

Working as a Recreation Assistant, working full-time, and working at a camp full-time are all new experiences for me. And yes, "working at a camp full-time" is a completely different animal than "working full-time". I'm not trying to claim that one is harder or easier than the other. They are just both completely new experiences and I'm having to get used to them simultaneously.

Of course these new experiences each come with their challenges. In fact, if you know me well at all, you probably had to do a double-take at the beginning of this post to make sure that you were, in fact, reading Esther's blog and that she was, in fact, working as a recreation-anything.

I am not the most athletic person you will ever meet.  I am probably one of the girliest.

That is why I have been so surprised by myself lately.

I now carry a screw-driver everywhere I go like it's no big deal.

I actually (usually) can fix things if they're broken.

I am regularly seen in windpants or jeans and a t-shirt. (Just to give you an idea of the kind of thing I used to wear on a daily basis, every outfit in these pictures was chosen because it was the kind of thing I wore all the time while I was in college.)

I hardly ever wear makeup anymore.

I've learned things about myself that I never knew, and I feel more confident in myself every day.

This job is a good thing for me.

Many times throughout the years, I've helped my dad with the manufacturing part of his sign business. One time, my job was to put rivets in the sign in designated places. I was so afraid I would use the riveter the wrong way or mess something up. I've never felt comfortable using tools of any sort - not even a hammer! But, by the end of the night, I had mastered the art of using that particular tool. Dad congratulated me and called me "Rosie the Riveter." The name sort of stuck through the years (mostly, I think, because of how very unlike Rosie the Riveter I actually was).

But now? I actually feel like I'm growing into that nick-name.