It's not always a good thing...

I've got what I like to think of as a "high-functioning imagination". Or what it really is, is an "overactive imagination". Most of the time it's great- I can think of funny scenarios, write things on a whim, come up with fun stuff for kid's church... But then there are times, like at 2:39am on a Saturday morning, when my overactive imagination betrays me. Housesitting for a friend in their massive house, every creak is suddenly ominous and threatening. Any tiny sound which is probably nothing is a menacing voice in the dark. Blurry eyes means I don't see the nightlight I left on in the bathroom shining through under my door. Nights like these I absolutely and completely resent my imagination.

Nothing awful has happened to me since I was a kid, yet I still feel haunted by insecurities. My wonderful boyfriend is sweet enough to come over now, at 2:47am, after leaving the post-swing diner because I'm too big of a baby to be in the house alone. I'll probably plead for him to watch TV with me until I fall asleep on the couch or something.

I'm embarrassed to admit that when I get this freaked out there's little that can make me feel better outside of someone else being around. Being on the phone with a friend/boy is nice, but it still doesn't assuage the paranoia that's risen within me- "Yeah but what IF something DOES happen? No one is still here". It resonates in me, mocking me at being a 25 year old infant. I know that God has not given us a spirit of fear. I know that God's plans are perfect. I know there are many different verses I could read. But it still just doesn't seem like enough. I still feel like I need my hand held through the night.

Maybe someday I'll get over this. Maybe someday I'll finally have the peace knowing that all the doors are locked and I am safe. Maybe someday I'll actually feel safe somewhere.

It's a slow fade...

After what I heard this morning, nausea aside, how could I ignore Jesus? Seriously? I've grown up in church, I know better than this crap. I feel a little prodigal-y. This is kind of unexpected... The song "Slow Fade" by Casting Crowns has been resonating within me the last few weeks. It HAS been a slow fade; and most certainly one I never saw coming in my life. Please don't get me wrong here, the song is clearly about adultery with a smattering of underage drinking (if you watch the music video, that is...)- that's not why it's been so present in the back of my brain. But what's caught me is the spiritual fade I've found myself caught in the last ~6 months or so. Now, to be fair, a lot of my strongest years spiritually were actually at college. This isn't difficult to believe when you know that I attended a small, conservative, private Christian college and had to go to chapel 5 days a week plus be involved in an off-campus church on the weekends. A relationship with God was the easiest thing in the world to maintain half the time*. But here in the "real world", while I've found my niche in the world so far, it's really difficult to maintain the relationship. I'm not constantly around other like-minded believers. I don't have the rules and regulations I did on campus. Believe me, I don't particularly miss the rules/regulations. At all.

I never wanted to end up here, spiritual speaking... It's a land of greys, compromises, and excuses. It's a place where I can't see myself yet I feel on display in regards to my behaviors, whether it's at church or at work. It's a place where there's little hope.

The fact that there's little hope though is my fault. It's not like God has ever abandoned me or left me to wallow in this world. He jumps in front of me and I get turned away by some distraction. He pursues me with obvious reminders and nudgings, hoping for a hint of affection from me, and I flitter the other way still distracted.

The redeeming part of this whole thing?

I see these mistakes.
I want God back.
I want to run and jump in front of Him.
I want to pursue Him in large and passionate ways.
I want to write love letters and spend time reading about Him.
I want to throw my arms around His neck and never let him out of my sight again.

"It's a slow fade, when you give yourself away. A slow fade, when black and white are turned to grey." 

I've found myself compromising on my standards in some regards (yet never on the boyfriend front and now I'm incredibly blessed/thankful for those standards!), such as things I'll say or ways I'll act in front of co-workers. I don't like that. That's not what I've been called to. That's not why God sent His only son down to be brutally crucified.

Father help me to run to you. Keep my eyes up and on Your face. I want to love and serve You all the days of my life. 

*That's a whole other blog post for a different time. I'm not saying people at Christian colleges don't struggle- I'm just saying it's a lot easier when you're in a community of believers and going to a church service of some flavor at a minimum of 6 days a week.

I don't own this song, yo. 

"We're equal in this..."

"We're equal in this, we're together in this, and we will work things out together."

Just a few simple words but they impacted her more than she anticipated. In fact, they impacted her more than many of the other things he had said to her. Not that all other sentiments were null, but something about the solidarity he suggested, coupled with the fact that he too felt the same way. She was loath to bring up anything that resembled confrontation, but she felt safe talking to him. And while this wasn't anything resembling conflict, the girl just didn't know how it would be received. How was it received? Absolutely beautifully. The glowing warmth she felt inside her heart swelled for him as she exhaled slowly. Many of her friends chose to display romantic exaltations on social media sites, but this girl wanted something different. Something less... showy. Not that there was anything wrong, but for the feeling she had inside, Facebook wasn't to be her outlet.

Instead she would write in her little corner of the internet, and show how much her heart had been impacted  by one man. Speak of how excellent of a leader he was, both on and off the dance floor. Praise his ability to be rational and thoughtful, while still maintaining an exuberant lust for life and laughter. Laud his willingness to help in any and all situations, be it by driving to a convenience store or by praying.

This man is awesome. He is kind and sweet, gentle but fierce, courageous but meek, lovable and ridiculous. He's everything that God knew I would ever, ever need. And everything I didn't know that I needed.

"Complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind."
Philippians 2:2 

Date #7

We had the date set for a month: May 12th. I knew nothing other than I would need to be dressed really nice, like we had been dressed for my Prom holiday party at work. I work a cocktail dress for that so I figured something along those lines would be apropos for our date. A few days before the date he dropped a few more hints: bring swing shoes, and maybe sneakers. Or maybe not. We "may not be walking that much". What does that even mean?! Where would it be remotely appropriate to wear sneakers and a cocktail dress?

Finally the day came! He came and picked me up at 2pm on Saturday, and boy did he look awesome. He was wearing a tux with a bright orange vest and tie (my favorite color), and was holding a bouquet of roses that were red, orange, and 2 rainbow roses. It was a gorgeous bunch and he got a huge hug just for that alone. :)

We finally went on our way and he said sometimes people will do things that are a little random while dressed up really nice, like go bowling. I asked if we were going bowling, fearing my lack of socks, and he said nope. We went to Majestic Fun. :) If you've never been, it's a ghetto version of Chuck-E-Cheese. I pretty much love it. Normally all the games work but today was not one of those days, and I'm sure it's just because our combined hotness blew them up. Haha! We played silly games for awhile, including a buck hunting one that I rocked at. I shot 24 out of 25 turkeys. He vowed to never buy me a gun. =P

We left after ~30 minutes and 60 tickets worth of Tootsie Rolls (3) and headed out to DC. He totally took me to the Titanic exhibit at the National Geographic Museum. Awesome. He knows I love Titanic, so it was awesome! They had props from the movie including a lamp and a life boat. It was pretty sweet. :) We walked around the samurai exhibit too, since the ticket included both.

After that we were both starving, but apparently "seating for dinner didn't start until 6:30". Whaaaa? Where were we going?! Caribou Coffee was right there, so coffee was drank and snacks were noshed.

He drove us to Alexandria, parked the car in what looked like a business district, and we started walking. I still had no idea where we were going as it looked like all businesses, and no restaurants. But we turned the corner and there was the Carylye Club.

It's a 1920's style art deco lounge and restaurant. I'd never heard of it and definitely had never been there. It was awesome. We were the only people there for awhile, so we got seated at the very front table on the dance floor. Dinner was delicious, the music was wonderful, and the decor was just gorgeous, and the ladies' room, believe it or not, was stunning.

There was a dinner show, but we didn't stay for it because he had other plans. Little did I know just how awesome his other plans were. :) We walked around a little bit to let dinner settle, and just because the area we were in was super nice. Then we drove to Arlington, I changed into my swing shoes, and we started walking out of the parking garage. I followed him up an off-ramp, begging him not to get hit by a car, but thankfully the area was pretty deserted. He found this spot he'd been to once before in Freedom Park and it basically looked like a rooftop terrace. It was a huge patio with a big walking path that led towards the Artisphere, and overlooked the city.

And what did we do on that rooftop terrace, you might ask?
Swing danced.
For like 45 minutes.
I might have twisted my ankle from stepping on it wrong, but darnit that was a good night and totally worth the slight limp I had yesterday. ;)


I seriously cannot get over how lucky I am. :o)

If this didn't look shady I don't know what does...

There comes a time in every girl's life where she comes across a moment in her life where she has to make a decision: to do or don't. This morning I made the decision to "don't", and paid for it not 20 minutes ago. 


Without further ado, I thought you'd all appreciate the awkwardness I just experienced… 

I may or may not have just shaved the front of my legs + my knees in the bathroom here at work.

Yes, you read that right. I, Not Just a Redhead, being of sound body and mind [most days] just shaved my legs in my professional workplace's bathroom. While kind of ON the sink. But more to that later. 

I thought I could get away as I have light leg hair but I realized it was almost soft, which while it feels not too awful, you know that's code red to cut down some timber. How did I do that, you may ask. I have a cheapy disposable razor from the front desk I got months ago and there's always a huge bottle of lotion in the bathroom. I hid my razor in my bra (after realizing ex post facto I definitely have a skirt with pockets on… Fail #1) and walked into the bathroom. I hesitated when I got in there and pondered how best to accomplish my mission. I decided the least awkward thing to do would be to take the lotion + paper towels into the handicapped stall so I could shave with the lotion and wipe the razor off with paper towels and pray for a minimal amount of razor burn. I realized as I latched the stall door how awkward it would look if someone were to walk in and see me toting a huge bottle of lotion plus a wad of paper towels into the largest stall (Fail #2). 

Once in the stall I realized razors (especially cheap ones) can not be cleaned off with paper towels alone (Fail #3). Regardless of the amount of pleading you do with the rough paper. For a brief moment I looked at the toilet (as the seat was up and it was morning which would indicate it's been cleaned) but realized I wouldn't look at myself the same ever again if I were to go down that road. I resigned myself to the fact that if the Amazon was to be tamed, I'd have to do it at the sink with water. 

I waited another second and practically ran to the sink, again to avoid someone walking in and seeing me come out with the lotion + paper towels (which now had smears of lotion all over them from the razor). During my sprint I thought I heard someone walking towards the bathroom and for a brief moment time froze: a desperate look filled my face while I seemed stuck as a gazelle who spots a lion hungry for Chick-Fil-A on a Sunday. I exhaled loudly then chided myself for drawing any possible attention. Hastily I spattered water on the front of my leg, rubbed a little lotion in there to again attempt to avoid some razor burn, then shaved the front of my leg. It was not a family friendly moment for me in the ladies' room, but I prayed that 1) there were no security cameras, and 2) that no one would walk in to see my skirt up around my hips and my leg bleeding from the aforementioned razor. I did manage to cut my left leg twice in my haste, but I figured people get cut when you burn down a forest. 

I tucked my razor into my pocket because that's more normal than my bra and speed-walked back to my desk. The last thing I need is someone wondering why I spent 20 minutes in the bathroom (although I'm fairly certain this whole thing took 5 minutes).

And here I am writing my tale of awkward to you.

Happy Wednesday.

P.S.- My leg is still bleeding. (Fail #4)