Runaway Mind Ramps and the Legality of Gay Marriage

     I sit and write amidst a sleeping rat and the clanking of a fan to combat the stuffy heat of a Central California summer. It is only 1:15 and I have only been up for the past twenty one hours. The day started in the much cooler presence of a Ventura sunrise on my way to work in the emergency room. Nine hours on my feet and seventeen patients miraculously healed. Well... nobody died. I scarfed inhaled a two-day-old enchilada from a dollar store Tupperware in the ER break room and rejoined Franklin (the rat) in the cozy canopy of my Ford Focus, Fiona. (It may seem I have a fetish for "F" words and names. I don't...really.) Where is all this going, you say? Girl + Rat + Car + 3.5 Chips Ahoy cookies = Unforeseeable success and an epic blog post. 

    There was no hesitation in my pre-programmed route to get gas, merge onto the 126 Freeway and trek the 192.7 miles to Visalia, CA. I accelerated to a swift 85 mph drove patiently across the rolling hills and up the Grapevine never piecing my day into its respective parts. One thing rushed to the next. Am I the only one who does this? I've got $2.67 and a piece of Licorice on the bet that I am not alone. 

     It wasn't until I was nearly to the Valley floor that I took a breath and swallowed a big gulp of air. Conveniently located on either side of the freeway is a "Runaway Truck Ramp." You know, the things that look like giant, slanted litter boxes? They function as an emergency exit for vehicles whose brakes have failed and are subsequently plummeting down the mountain. Once the vehicle veers into its trap, it sinks into feet of gravel and comes to a safe stop. I have seen these particular ramps hundreds of times, but today was different. 

     Instantly, the little man in my mind (quite possibly just my psyche described in an awkward fashion) clawed to get out and bury himself in the gravel. My mind just needed desperately to stop, breathe, be stationary. Please, put me up to my neck in a pile of rocks so I cannot take one more shift or study one more flashcard. Then I don't need to drive another mile or send another text message. Why don't we have "Runaway Mind Ramps?"

     Perhaps we compensate and create a similar phenomenon with things such as Pinterest or a Margarita. This is not at attempt at social critique or reformation by any means. I am just calling attention to the fact that I desperately need to slow down and linger in the day's moments. After all a lot happened today...

     Gay marriage was legalized and my little brother's baseball team won their All-Star game 15-0. Not news typically combined into one sentence? Welcome to my life. A paradox, oxymoron, strangely intertwined. Each little piece of the day vastly different but leading me to the same feeling– a desire to pray.

•      I want to pray thanksgiving for the news that one of our patients survived his heart attack despite a 99% blockage of his left anterior descending artery, cleverly called "The Widow Maker." He'll miss a few days of golf but in exchange for many more days with his wife. 
•      I want to pray for the guy all alone on the side of the freeway with a flat tire or the man selling tamales from the trunk of his car in the Walmart parking lot. Please God, let them have a family at home who loves him and will lessen the blow of a crappy day or crappy economy. 
•      I want to pray (retroactively of course) that the San Francisco Giants weren't swept by the Los Angeles Dodgers, pray that Lincecum's ERA wasn't 4.64. But hey, instead I can pray thanks for a wonderful baseball game played by some ten-year-old boys on a Wednesday night. They rocked it.
•      Right after that I'm going to get on my knees and pray for the kids that lost. 15-0 is a tough loss. I've been there and it sucks. These are the prayers for perseverance and molding of sportsmanship. I earnestly hope their parents still take them to pizza after the game and high five them for that great catch they made in the 3rd inning. 
•      Then, what the heck, let's pray for parents in general. Straight parents, gay parents, and parents that want to be so badly and can't be. I don't care if the kid has two dads and it's a problem in my eyes (not that it is). I am still going to pray wholeheartedly for that family and the little person they love. God give parents guidance and support from the family and community. It's a big job to do. 
•     Are you ready to pray for marriage? I am. Whether the marriage is accepted by a democratic regime or a conservative society, it is a delicate gift that sure as hell could use some reinforcement from my dear friend prayer. Give pray for open hearts, forgiveness, grace. Add another helping of love and then some wisdom. Top it off with health and longevity both for the physical body and the mind. 
•      Something heavy on my heart tonight is the prayer for the Church. May its members find peace somewhere other than the Senate or their 401k. In the coming days there is going to be so much hate fired from both sides of hot topics, words spoken that weren't thought out and spewed out of anger. Ease the rifts in many churches. Personally, I pray for both a broken church, the one that raised me, and the blossoming church I now call my home. I pray God that you raise leaders that reside firm in the Word and make known that you dwell in every church, calling them to abide faithfully.
•       I pray for health, Haiti, and hope. I give thanks for sunshine, sunflower seeds, and sheets fresh from the dryer in my childhood bedroom.

     Reflecting on my words again reveals the scattered, busy nature of my brain. But somehow the pieces come closer together, united in Purpose. When I need that plunge into solitude or out of my mind, I find a step back and to the left (not the political left people, metaphorically speaking) gives me a better perspective of both the gifts before me and the needs that stand unfulfilled. Smell a flower, silence your phone and listen to the laugh of a child, hug your neighbor that just lost his wife. Taking action to better our world does not constitute a picket sign or a lot of money. Do what you gotta do I guess, but as for me, I'm just gonna pray it's all okay as sleep now ushers in to carry me to another day full of promise.

From Disaster to Designer... in Less than $100?

     "It all started with a chair," said Juno in 2007's hit movie. While this was referring to her escapades of pregnancy (I, sadly, am not pregnant), it is also applicable to the recent renovation of my bedroom. A day of thrift shopping was almost cut short by my little brother's incessant griping and demands for food, but it lasted just long enough to find a perfectly trashy, vomit-green and orange armchair in a thrift store parking lot. It was as though it was beckoning my rear into it with promises of rainbows and a solution to life's problems.
In the list of the many things I am, there does not exist a skill titled "Super Decorator." Thankfully, God gave me other quirks like the ability to thrift shop my way out of a recession, find tacky chairs like it's nobody's business, and rely upon best friends with good taste.

~BEFORE~

     Yes, so this just appears pathetic. Just the sight of what my room looked like sends my body into panic attack mode.  Give me a little credit because half the crap belonged to my father. This really is no way to live, but after up and moving  fourteen times (I think that's the current count) I found that my "give a care" mentality was buried in a box somewhere with my favorite childhood doll.

~AFTER~

How It Went Down:

Curtains~ $6.00

Tree Decal~ $19.99

Bedspread~ $24.99 (God Bless WalMart!)

Table~ $12.00

Epic Chair (Circa 1970)~ $10.00

Picture Frames~ $0.50 x 20

Records~ $0.75 x 8

Lamp~ $12.00

Suitcases~ $4.50!!! (luggage is half off on Wednesdays baby!)

Total~ $107.98

   Ok, so slightly over budget, but hey I think it was worth it!

Day 2

It was definitely an effort to look through different eyes. 38 days left to learn... 

"You are altogether beautiful, my darling, And there is no blemish in you." Song of Solomon 4:7

The Naked Truth

Disclaimer: This blog gets a little mushy.
     I am insecure. No one likes to admit her insecurities and we all overcompensate for the self-confidence we lack. So I am coming right out and saying that being surrounded by beautiful, smart women takes its toll on me. Some days my clothes aren't cute enough or I'm not tall enough. My hips are too wide, my brown eyes are boring, my hair will never hold a curl... If you take enough time, another flaw always arises.
     When it came time to pray about Lent this year, I didn't want to do the same old junk food type thing (ok, so what if it is because I love junk!) I guess if I were really motivated I would forego obsessing over cats and pretending to be pregnant. Let's be realistic! Instead, I thought about the areas that I put a great deal of my time into. School is busy and sleep is rare, but how can I complain about how little time I have when I still set aside nearly an hour every day to pick an outfit, do my hair, and compose my face?  
     This blog isn't to come out and say "Ooo look at me, I'm going without for lent!" Yes, I do love looking cute and feeling put together, but I have put such a large part of my self-worth in what changes I can make to my appearance every day. How can I mask every unique characteristic God has placed on my body? I can only hope that 40 days is long enough a period that I can reflect on the Creation I am. I wholeheartedly hope that it changes more that just what I see in the mirror. If you're a human, you have likely judged another on appearance. Sadly, I do it more often than I'd care to admit. Perhaps the scales of society's standards will be lifted from my eyes. I want to be able to see clearly the beauty each of us displays naturally.
     So here are my rules:
       - Outfits come from a single drawer of t-shirts and jeans. There will be no pre-planned outfits. 
          *Sundays will be an exception for church.
       - No makeup. Concealer? Nope. Blush? Nada. Mascara? Not even.
       - The hair is all natural. No product, straightening, or curling. The simple braid is acceptable.
       - Jewelry is a no-no. *The nose piercing remains because it will close, and I paid $50. Sorry Mom.
       - When this current nail polish wears off, it's a done deal.
       - To respond to the concern of my best friends and roommates, I will indeed be showering.
     Forty days. Bring on the prayer and connection that will hopefully reveal some insight on why I was created the way I am. I am ready for a change of heart. Anyone that reads this and can identify with the feelings of inadequacy, I pray that you see your full potential, not through your own eyes, but God's. Come back to check in on how it's going with me, because you can be sure there will be hard days. I'll keep y'all posted.

~"But the LORD said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.”~ 1 Samuel 16:7

~"And let not your adornment be merely external-- braiding the hair, and wearing gold jewelry, or putting on dresses; but let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is precious in the sight of God." ~1 Peter 3:3-5

PS- I am obviously serious about this endeavor as I refrained from joking about praying for those who will encounter me in the mornings and so on.


Side notes on my pathetic science-major life- As I typed "jeans" in my head, it came out "genes" on paper... sad day!

The Burden of Shame

     I bet you read the title and became suddenly intrigued as to the shame and deep secrets I was going to reveal in this blog post. Nope. The shame I speak of is way less juicy and stems only from my TERRIBLE abandonment of this blog. Please, if you feel so inclined, chastise me. My reply will simply be my pity story I have been weaving in my head: 21 units, 3 labs, a job, music, church, blah blah blah. The list drags on. I'm neither condoning the sympathy for myself or encouraging it, but I am simply encouraging the state of my life, which happens to be hectic. As crazy as it all seems, I've finally reached a sort of contentment. (Note: this contentment does not come without extreme panic every time someone mentions that there are only 9 weeks of school left!)
     In the weeks I have spent away from the blog world, I am happy to report several of my 2012 ambitions are in full swing (minus the blogging once a week thing). Some have actually been extremely successful. My mother will be ecstatic to know my laundry is being done regularly every two weeks. Friends may notice more hand-written notes floating around. Here's a major one: I have been working out about 5x a week with the exception of test week! There's been free reading (and lots of educational reading...). One more positive pat on the back for myself: today I managed to go to the zoo and didn't steal any furry animals of cute children. it was hard, but I overcame. Aren't capybaras great?!
     The disclaimer for this paragraph... we all fall short of perfection. Things I haven't done yet: get an A on a test in each subject, fish or hike this month, and probably the worst, I didn't even make it to February in the One Year Bible. Other goals can't be reported upon yet due to their long-term nature i.e. the cavity thing. Side note: please pray that my dentist appointment on Tuesday goes smoothly and that he isn't a sadist- many of them are.
     Whew, looking up I can see how structured and businessy that writing was. Now let's throw out some randomness:
     - I miss my cats so much I feel like crying on a daily basis. Snowflake, the newest addition to our cat  family, was discovered to be deaf. Sad right?
     - I am going to be doing a 5K in San Francisco this summer! It's awesome, check it out here: http://thecolorrun.com/sanfrancisco/
     - Dueling in Paraguay is legal as long as both parties are registered blood donors. (Note: writing this random fact on your physics test will not earn you extra credit.)
     I know this blog didn't contain deep philosophical purposes and was pretty short in length, but I needed to jot down something to relieve this guilt I've had about not writing. This was just a little blurp to say cats are wonderful, life is good, and God is great.
     

Respect Your Elders

     Whew it's been a while. I hate thinking that I should say, "Oh my, it's the first post of 2012! I better make it a good one." But you know what? Who cares. If this post was all about how spectacularly well my life is going and it was completely typo-free, then where would I have to go with it in the next 359 days. (Check my math if you must, it's a leap year people.) A lot has gone down since I last posted. There was New Years, a cancelled dentist appointment, lots of too much shopping, and Christmas.

     To keep myself busy I have been rearranging and redecorating my room at my mom's and my dad's houses. There will be a whole blog post on that subject alone, but I mention it now not knowing if I will finish this post now because of the overwhelming urge I currently have to organize our garage (It is currently 1:28 AM). I can't help this obsession with cleaning and organizing.  Normally it changes in proportion to my stress and busyness levels. When I have a big project or hectic schedule, I really love to organize any and everything. My sock drawer is guaranteed to be color-coded and carefully arranged every finals week. Must be a form of procrastination I guess, but why I'm compulsively spending my break this way remains a mystery.

     Having three younger siblings, I often have the delusion of deserving respect. I'm an elder even if it is only by ten years dang it! Respect me! But these kids, man are they something else. (Side note: it took me seven attempts to type the word "else" in that last sentence.)

     My twelve-year-old brother suffers from the delusion that he is in his twenties and completely in control.  Once my chubby and cuddly baby brother, he is now my swearing, 5-foot-5 160 lb bruiser. He now only refers to me by my favorite moniker, "Sissy," when he needs to twist my arm (sad thing is, it works). Despite the age difference, this kid and I turn this town upside-down when we're together and his stories about the trials of junior high make my belly hurt from laughter. Aren't you glad you never have to relive junior high? I am. The seventh grade has brought on a slew of love interests hormonal teenage girls that like to text one word messages at all hours of the day. This has unearthed my protective instincts. Every time he goes to a dance I cry a little inside. Thankfully, despite all of the attention my stud brother gets from the opposite gender, his favorite pastime is prank calling Leslie's Pool Supply where he has struck up an unusual friendship with the assistant manager Rob. Oh to be young again...

     Only one year his junior, my sister is her own version of hell on wheels. I struggle to prioritize which of her interests worries me most: Twilight, makeup, or my clothes. Every time I come home from college she is prettier and sassier. Perhaps my biggest fear is that she will be just like me. I mean, we already know how much she likes cats. She's as bright as a 100-watt bulb fresh out of the box (not to toot my own horn) and has a mouth that's only downfall is not being able to fire off smart ass remarks as quickly as she comes up with them in her head. Oh, and she's perfected the art of blackmail; lesson learned after biting her so hard it bruised. When all sisterly battles are forgiven, we are actually beginning to enjoy one another's company. I spent a lot of Christmas break shopping with her and doing our nails. She shares the same fondness I once had for insanely bright colors and patterns. There's also a very strong personality backing all that up; she knows what she wants. Upon a recent trip to Build-a-Bear, she decided the cat's meow sound effect was too meek for her new pet. Her solution? A Siamese cat with the booming roar of a lion. That, my friends, is someone I am proud to call my little sister.

     The youngest of my siblings never ceases to throw us for a loop. To say "black sheep" is a little too far, but he's definitely the different one. He's always on my good side though because he idolizes me like no other (this makes for cheap labor on my end... "Get me a drink...Scratch my back...Can I have a dollar?" (I swear I'm not a terrible person, I just utilize available resources. Is that wrong? I did change his diapers after all!) Every time I come home, he becomes my shadow. I have had an easier time of ridding my feet of fungus than I've had prying him from my side. Even as I type this, he is sleeping five feet from me in my bed. The only time he is out of my sight is when he playing uncontrollably banging on his drum set. I know God requires us to forgive, but it's been a struggle since my parents bought drums for him when he was only four. All bleeding ear drums aside, the kid does have real talent. He could definitely have a future in a rock band if he decides against becoming a fireman, plumber or pool boy (all of which are aspirations of his). I love the innocence that comes with having a little kid around and, seeing as he's the last one, I am not in a hurry for him to grow up. The other two kids are already doing that so fast. My only prayer is that he would hurry up and grow out of the tooth-losing phase. I'm knocking on death's door with every visit of that God-forsaken Tooth Fairy.

     Being the oldest of that rowdy bunch, I was an only child for a while meaning I learned lessons elsewhere. The people I spent the most time with were close family members. I am blessed to have a strong circle of women in my family.  For nearly half my life, there were five generations on my mother's side and we still have four. I had a great-great, great, grand, and mom. When we're together there's an abundance of spunk and sass, most often revealing itself during a competitive game of cards. Gin Rummy is the reason my name has been repeatedly written and erased from my great-grandmother's will. The card table was where I learned to swear and stomp out the hopes of others, but it is also where some of favorite time with my family was spent. Just this Christmas, I sat with my great-grandmother whom we call Nanny and chatted about life. This will be her 87th year of life and she is dang proud. With the exception of a little arthritis in her index finger she says she couldn't feel better. When people ask how old she is, there's a certain joy she gets with saying "86!" Nan's set her eye on 100. While longevity is neat to have in life, quality is what counts and she's got it. I can only hope to be as cool as she is one day. The make being an elder cool.
I've got nothing but respect for these ladies and I am eager to continue the line of hip chicks in our family:)

Let's only hope the next generation is a little less like me and more like them...

(I'm genuinely embarrassed by this.)

Random Tangent: I hate the vents/fans they put in bathrooms. It gets me every time! All I want is the light switch! Is that too much to ask for? Oh and next time, I better find the toilet paper placed the right way. Don't you hate it when it rolls from under instead of from the top? Am I just weird...
*Note: this was written over a period of two days, so if you find discontinuity, politely get over it.
**If for some reasons my siblings come across my blog, know that I love you all very much. If the embarrassing things mentioned here hinder your reputation in any way, feel free to file a complaint with the Customer Service Department of my blog.

Is 2012 the end?... Probably Not

     I'm convinced that all of the crazies predicting the earth and life as we know it to end on 12/21/2012 are just desperate for some entertainment in their lives.  Here's my alternative: subscribe to the HBO and get all the sci-fi action you want. Stop bugging the rest of us. Soooooo, because I intend to live a good, full year I am making some plans. Resolutions? No. Just goals.

The easier, less time-consuming ones are as follows-

- Try salad. Never have. I think it's time to eat like a big girl.

- Stay true to my no caffeine/ restricted caffeine diet. Drink responsibly.

- Take a multivitamin everyday. 

- Begin giving blood again every eight weeks when my nose heals.

Now these require some ambition-

- Get further than January 6th in my One Year Bible.

- Volunteer at least 200 hours in a medical setting.

- Not get a cavity. 

- Blog at least once a week.

- Hike or fish at least once a month.

- Send a hand-written note of encouragement to a friend once a week.

- Do laundry at least once a month. Hang clean clothes at the end of each day and only use the laundry hamper for dirties:)

- Read one book for pleasure each month.

- Exercise more.  (Purposefully not specific haha)

- Get at least one A on a test in each class.

- Following that last one: Pray more!