slow down, little lady

Posted on by anna

Holy macaroni, I’ve been busy lately. Last week I worked about 50 hours–half of that in only two days–and spent my one day of weekend trying to recuperate enough to get myself out of bed Monday morning.

Almost as a relief, I caught whatever cold Elliot had this week, and spent some days at home, doing laundry. It forced me to slow down, which was a blessing.

What is the balance? I seem not to have found it yet, at this point in my still-young life. I am working, I am cooking, I am cleaning, I am driving, serving, sleeping, kissing, baking, sitting, finally breathing…I am running. I am wasting time. I have little time to waste. I have so much time.

Abrupt end to this rambling post: It only takes me starting a sort of catch-up post when I remember what it is I’ve been meaning to write about, yet I never have the heart to trash the first one. More words coming soon.

happy autumnal equinox!

Posted on by anna

It is officially my favorite season of the year! I love nearly everything about autumn: sweaters, pies, heartier beer, changing leaves, knitting, long pants, apples, apple-picking, and the cool chill of evening that feels just right with a cup of tea.

This week, my good friend taught me how to knit “in the round,” so I’ve been making myself a hat with some yarn I’ve been saving! Here’s what I’ve been doing all day (besides being thankful to be at the front desk at work, and not doing my actual job):

knitting and tea. good work day.

As dreary as it is today, I look forward to the days with crisp air and clear skies and changing leaves. I think most people see autumn as dreary and as being the beginning of the dying of the year, but I find a freshness and newness each autumn. Having begun something new each fall for the last 15 years (school, new job, new apartment), it’s hard for me not to feel expectant as the air starts to chill. This year I did get a new apartment, and with that, a new community. A small one of two other girls also living in the apartment, a slightly larger one in the “compound,” and an even larger one in the Neighborhood of the Arts. As I enter this season, I look forward to marking the first year with the one I love, to traveling to see family for holidays, to settling into (and finally unpacking!) the apartment, and to seeking after God and His purpose in my life, which is sometimes a nebulous thing, with a hopefully renewed fervor.

To newness.

a kind of pretty

Posted on by anna

There is a kind of pretty that a woman is around midnight,

standing in her bathroom,

staring into the mirror under a garish light.

Mascara and foundation freshly removed,

all flaws in her skin have been catalogued, appreciated, and forgotten.

Her hair,

once meticulously tucked back,

has now the cares of the day woven in as well,

and they have blown strands into the cool night breeze.

Tiny curls reminiscent of baby pictures frame her ears.

I am pretty, she remembers.

No makeup.

No bra.

No audience.

Just pajamas and bare feet and the smell of hot tea and toothpaste.

Just her and the mirror.

Sometimes singing, maybe silent.

There is a kind of pretty that a woman is around midnight,

and no one can see it but her.


~ahj

poems for changing seasons

Posted on by anna

“Autumn” by Rainer Maria Rilke:

The leaves are falling, falling as if from far up,
as if orchards were dying high in space.
Each leaf falls as if it were motioning “no.”

And tonight the heavy earth is falling
away from all other stars in the loneliness.

We’re all falling. This hand here is falling.
And look at the other one. It’s in them all.

And yet there is Someone, whose hands
infinitely calm, holding up all this falling.

“Autumn Day” by Rilke as well:

Lord: it is time. The summer was immense.
Lay your shadow on the sundials
and let loose the wind in the fields.

Bid the last fruits to be full;
give them another two more southerly days,
press them to ripeness, and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.

Whoever has no house now will not build one
anymore.
Whoever is alone now will remain so for a long
time,
will stay up, read, write long letters,
and wander the avenues, up and down,
restlessly, while the leaves are blowing.

So glad there is someone holding up all this falling.

back on the radar, sort of.

Posted on by anna

Hello friends! Allow me to apologize for dropping off the face of the earth…it’s been a busy couple weeks, er, months.

Obligatory bloggy apology: check.

Here’s a little run-down of what I’ve been up to the past month and a half: I turned 23, took a roadtrip to Middleofnowhere, Ohio to go to (read: work at) summer camp for a week, came home to a surprise party, packed up my old apartment, moved it all into my poor boyfriend’s living room for the weekend, moved all my stuff again into my own apartment across the yard from him, painted said apartment, and since then have been trying to find a few minutes to continue to put my life away again.

Yikes-a-mo-mikes-a, as a friend of my brother’s used to say. You know, when they were 3.

Life is freaking crazy, and I’m sure only about to get crazier. I have decided to quit the evil restaurant before Thanksgiving, because my car will probably die soon, and also because the new manager there doesn’t like the idea of anyone taking off for any holidays.

Oh, I’m sorry, sir, I’ll just spend Thanksgiving and Christmas by myself here then, shall I? So kind of you. Thanks.

So that’s one less stress, and one more, I suppose. Less stress in that I’ll finally have (a little) more time, and one more because I’ll be making (a lot) less money per week and not having access to cash as easily (which could be good, I suppose). Oh money. Eff you.

What was this post going to be about? I suppose I have nothing of dire import to share; I’ve just been thinking about my poor, neglected blog, and like the 20-something-girl that I am, decided to update it and let my two readers know what’s going on with me.

I’ll be back soon with some meatier words.

Peace.

homosexuality and the church: an online anthology

Posted on by anna

There’s been lots of talk lately about homosexuality and the  church, it seems like. I read a lot of blogs, and I’ve noticed tons more articles on the subject than normal. As such, I thought I would share these articles with you. Please note that I don’t necessary agree (or disagree, I suppose) with any stance any of these writers represent; I merely think it is interesting and important for us to be engaging viewpoints different than our own.

Is the Homosexual My Neighbor? by Tony and Peggy Campolo. This is a transcription of a talk they gave at North Park in Chicago, and is a really good read. (Found via the blog below.)

From Richard Dahlstrom, a pastor from Seattle, WA:
How to talk about homosexuality…
the foundation to answer the questions… part 1
An answer, I hope in Truth and Grace
Romans 1

From the Burnside Writer’s Blog:
Closet Cases by Jordan Green
Coming out of the Judgmental Closet by Eric Allen
“What Matters More” –Derek Webb, Stockholm Syndrome posted by Tim McGeary
Spirit in the Material World: The Science on Homosexuality by Steve Simpson (added 8/3)

From More Musings on Christianity, Homosexuality, & the Bible by Misty Irons:
Don’t Ask Don’t Tell in the Church

From I like guys by Steve:
Gay at Wheaton

I think that’s the whole list so far. Sorry for all the link-age there, but I seriously hope you will take some time to read all these articles, especially if this is a discussion you care about. Feel free to share comments, but please do not do so anonymously or with any kind of vitriol. You will be swiftly deleted that way.

Peace, friends.

discipline

Posted on by anna

Big. scary. word.

Discipline. DISCIPLINE. Here are some things discipline is starting to mean to me:

Not buying fancy (read: expensive) coffee every morning. Tithing even when it’s scary. Bringing my own lunch to work. Sticking to my budget. Running. In the morning. Not eating that ice cream sandwich. Actually reading my Bible (note: this has only happened once in recent history). Going to bed on time.

I’ve been struggling with the idea of discipline for a while. I am not disciplined in regulating what foods I eat, thus I am, uh, curvy. I am not disciplined in regularly practicing, thus I am not as good a guitar player as I could be. I am not disciplined about where I spend my money, so I sometimes have to do some “creative finance,” as my mother calls it.

But there is hope! After trudging through on my own for so long, it finally occurred to me the other day that this is not a battle I can possibly ever win on my own. Cheesy as it may sound, I need God’s strength in this one. If I can not lean on His strength, I can never hope to be disciplined in following Him.

This feels like a new journey. I am a lazy, lazy girl, so I’m sure it will be a fight.

One more thing, and then I’ll stop yabbering. I woke up this morning, having talked myself into a morning run, and when I got to the door, it was raining. So I went back inside, knowing I had time to sleep another 30 minutes. Instead I turned my coffee maker on, grabbed some breakfast, and went into my room. I grabbed my Bible, which has been acting as a coaster, and sat on my bed. In the peace of my room, I opened to Romans 7 and realized Paul had the same struggles. Not being able to control his own sinful desires, He too had to lean on Christ.

I am freed to be disciplined in Christ.

quarter-life crisis

Posted on by anna

To steal a phrase from John Mayer.

Today at work, I spent the afternoon looking at pictures of people’s tattoos online. I have a really cool one on my right foot — Psalm 46:10 in my grandmother’s handwriting — but I’ve been itching to get another one. As I saw some really beautiful tattoos, and some really terrible ones too of course (why would you tattoo your own name on yourself!?), I couldn’t help but want something totally badass. It was that moment that I felt like I’d settled into some kind of cookie cutter. I don’t really think that, but at that moment…I wasn’t sure.

Maybe I would be destined for mini-vans and always wearing shoes so the other moms at play-group wouldn’t see my tattoo. Deep inside, I know that’s not me at all. I am not destined for any kind of boring normality. But I can’t help but wonder what I’d look like at 40 covered (at least a little bit) in tattoos. Would I be excluded from any jobs I might want to pursue? What would my boyfriend’s parents think? Isn’t growing up and becoming normal what people do?

I just can’t own a mini-van. Ever.

I soon found myself looking back (from the ripe ol’ age of 22) on my earlier days of crazy hair colors and earrings spanning the entirety of both my ears. Not that I feel the need to be-jewel my ears again or dye my hair pink again. I think I’ve matured at least somewhat past the “I must look a certain way to be cool” stage. 

But really, do any of us really get over that? I’m just saying. We all dress the way we do for a reason. Because we like it, cool or not. We choose to present ourselves the way we do to make whatever statement we want to make.

I digress. You can go back in time and un-read those last two paragraphs if you’d like.

It was this whole issue, or at least my tiny mention of it this afternoon, that prompted Elliot to diagnose me with a quarter-life crisis. And…I think he’s right. I am in this very unsettling stage where I feel like I should have more things figured out. I don’t know what I want to do. I don’t always know why I say or do the things I am saying or doing. I am lazy. I have an unreasonable desire to purchase a sportscar… No scratch that–that’s the mid-life crisis–but I am just itching for a new tattoo. And a path. 

Recently some things fell into place in my brain. If I can get a job that will actually pay me enough to only work that one job, I can actually have time to practice and play music. Friends, this is big. I am falling so head over heels for the So and So’s (my church band), for that feeling of connection and art and music–not just the sound but the spirit–ugh, I want to do it more. Sometimes I catch myself thinking, “Man, too bad I didn’t get a degree I can use for a job. Why don’t I like anything enough to do it for a job?” And then I have moments playing music, spontaneous “One clap…two claps” erupting from the congregation that I think “Yes. Yes, this is it. This is it.“

So, step one: Real job. Step two: BAND. Practicing, writing, honing, disciplining, playing.

Yes.

dream blog

Posted on by anna

So my dreams have been just so ridiculous lately that I started a blog about them:

http://mydreamsareweird.wordpress.com Check it out!

Anyway, dudes and dudettes, I have been spending my time reading webcomics at work, crying because I don’t know what I want to do with my life (future blogging on possibilities….), and being the best girlfriend I know how to be.

Seriously, guys, I have read a lot of webcomics. Sorry this blog sucks right now. My thoughts and opinions are being slowly sucked out of me by long days spent staring at the computer screen. It’s entirely possible I am losing both brain cells and IQ points. Maybe that’s why my dreams have been so interesting.

get it, got it, good (vol.1)

Posted on by anna

Welcome to a new segment of this blog called “Get it, Got it, Good.” If you don’t know me, you may not know that I am sometimes snarky and/or, well, bitchy. I have remained well-mannered until now, but sometimes you just need to know. Expect other articles to follow on tipping etiquette, ticket-buying etiquette, etc. 

People who are allowed to call me “honey”:

1. Elliot

2. My mom, dad, grandparents

3. Sweet old ladies

4. Very cute old men

People who are not allowed to call me “honey”:

1. Any man who is not my father, my boyfriend, or well-meaning and geriatric. If you are some thirty-something a-hole, keep quiet. If you are fifty-something and creepy, shut it.

2. Condescending older ladies. “Look, honey, blah blah blah…”

I often contemplate these rules in my every-day contact with the general public. I had a very sweet old lady today call me “honey” on the phone, and it genuinely made me smile. The way she said it let me know that she really appreciated the information I had to share with her. 

Last weekend, a friend had parked his car in the wrong spot, and while informing the neighbor we would move it, was dismissed by said neighbor and called “honey,” which immediately put me on the defense. 

Anyway, now you know.