So I haven't been here in a while. Most of the friends I keep up with on here... I keep up with far more often in real life. So it seems silly. But that aside... posting a blog here seems strangely comfortable to me considering that I cower at the notion of allowing others to see what I write or how I think.

2008 has been a fascinating year. In Jan and Feb, I was really sick. In March and April, I dealt with heartache and my own stupidity. In May came my first experience with unemployment. Now June is almost over and I'm learning that this is not the year that God is killing me slowly for His own entertainment... but it is the year that I am being forced to overcome... to see what I am capable of surviving... to truly learn God's character and to TRUST Him like never before.

I'm enjoying being out of work and having everyday to do with as I please... we'll see how I do once this month's bills all clear my account. I quit smoking (again) and this time I don't really miss it. I'm going to the gym everyday and eating really healthy. I'm working on a handful of projects for friends. I'm spending time with my family. I seem to be busier now than I was when I was working full time.

God got my attention in all this... and it surprised me. I thought that I was getting angrier - and at first I really was - about my circumstances. But then I realized that all I ever do is consider my circumstances... I dwell on them and analyze and over analyze them... I complain about them... I try to change them... and I fall back into the center of them to complain about them even more.  And somewhere in the middle of that revelation, I let it all go. I can't describe how or explain why... I just did. And I was the most surprised of all.

I'm no longer working on changing me or my circumstances. The only thing I am working on is looking up.

I've prayed to be thin... but I realize now that being thin was the focus. I've prayed to be a better Christian... the focus still on me. I've prayed for different circumstances - specifically and honestly... but the focus was always on the circumstances. Now I'm just trying to pray... to talk to God... to focus on HIM and not ME and my never-satisfying circumstances.

It's becoming a really interesting walk. I'd consider it a crawl at this point, but the reality is that I am just trying to stand still and focus appropriately. When my focus is right I know I will see things more clearly and maybe even see myself again (if I ever really saw me to begin with). Then I can walk again.

I loved a man once…. As a matter of fact, I loved the same man twice. For that matter, I was broken up with by 2 different men on the same day – and I wasn’t even dating either of them.

I used to go three years between relationships. It was like clockwork. Until I stopped dating all together.

Is it a dry spell that lasts 10 years between boyfriends and 5 years between flings?

What changes in the swing of a mood that allows one who has been otherwise invisible to men to glean the attention of 3 at one time. And how can a prude convert to a slut but by the hands of wanton lust and opportunity.

Three becomes two at the insistence of faith, obedience, and sacrifice.

And two narrows to one by way of indifference… or fear… or reality.

The one that remains battles much like the first to fall away. To what end? Only another tick of the clock will tell.

I want a sit-com life. Not a 1-hour drama, a comedy, or a love story. I want a simple, straight-forward, family-friendly, all resolved and tied up tight with a bow in 27 minutes sit-com life. Where every storyline has a fairly obvious and poignant moral. Where tears fall slowly on glistening cheeks and frequently one tear holds all the emotions that a flood of sobs couldn’t unleash. Where cheeks may show the slightest change in tint but eyes don’t swell.

I want a sit-com life. Every shut door at the end of one episode is corrected with an open window at the beginning of the next. Tensions build, romances come to fruition, antagonism occurs, the climax is reached, and the final moment brings it all together with a quip-y one-liner.

I want a sit-com life. There are scripts to speak to and scores to fill the silences. Scenery overpowers the empty spaces. And the crowd scene is just on the other side of the hollow door.

I want a sit-com life. I want answers to questions. I want a supporting cast and crew. I want lights, camera, action. I want resolution following the next commercial break and before the credits roll.

I want a sit-com life.

For those of you who might have missed it – I was apparently pretty sick for the better part of January. And it gave me some new perspectives… on my job, on the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, on my friends, on my family, on my life in general.

When I think about writing a book worthy of being published, I get stalemated on the notion of "not having anything to say". The irony is found in that circumstantially I usually have really good insights – or at the very least I am plumb full of opinions. But as far as feeling like I have something to say that is global… universal… timeless… nope, I'm stymied.

So I guess if I were ever going to have a worthwhile insight… it may as well be now.

Life in general… It's too short. It's too precarious. And tomorrow is never assured. And yet we waste every today that we have been given.

Well, I don't want to do that anymore. I don't want to live to work and work to live. I finally realized as I moved into my current job a little over a year ago that my job doesn't own me… but it sure does regulate way too many of my todays. It's too stressful and too meaningless. And it has nothing to do with anything that brings me or anyone else any joy, peace, or happiness.

I've never known the answer to "if you can do anything in your life, what would you do?" I often wonder if there is any rationale in holding out hope for a future that involves a quaint cabin in Maine so far from the rest of the world that food has to be airlifted in once a month… no internet, no phone… and writing words worth publishing that will net me my nickel and make menial labor a thing of the past… But if this is the alternative – I'll take the impossible – or the improbable – or the terrifying… cause the mundane has gotten old.

We need to figure out what we want from this life and then figure out a way to go out and get it.

I'm getting better and my major symptoms are ebbing… I got my doctor's attention and I got my own attention. There was something about the tone of her voice when she said that I could have gone into a coma… and that I could have died… I didn't know that then. But knowing it now has changed something inside of me.

I want something new. I don't know where, when, or how – but I know I'm ready… and I'm not afraid.

... and this feels like it sums it up even though it is (clearly) not mine....

There's a light at each end of this tunnel,
You shout 'cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
And these mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again
If you only try turning around.

2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to

But you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand.
and breathe, just breathe...

I'm feeling nostalgic. I stopped in at a church where an old friend is the Lead Pastor. I haven't seen him since 1993. I can't believe how old we are now. He's still a great preacher. Sitting in the congregation and watching him and listening to his passion for the Lord... I was back in college in the early 90s... I felt 20 again... which was lovely. To boot, it was awesome to hear a preacher with a heart I know and trust. It fired me up.

Here's the complication... how does one succinctly answer the question of what you've been up to - for the last 14 years... work, travel, struggles, successes... growth, failure... it's all in the paths I've chosen. I'm good where I am. Some of my best memories were from the days this friend and I shared. It's amazing to see him as a pastor, a husband, a dad... a grown man. Sometimes I wonder if I am a grown woman. I feel like a child. I feel like any day now I will grow up.

But for today... I am smiling at warm memories of a friendship from long ago... enjoying the luxuries of a life of freedom and flexibility... and celebrating a whole new year to try to get it right...

No wonder people are always sick around here - the temperature changes faster than a woman's mood swings!

After an extended weekend in NYC mostly bundled up in my new wool full-length coat (yes, I had to buy a winter coat to make the trip to northern climbs), I came back to NC at temperatures near 80! So much for smelling like winter.

It's cold today though. Cold and grey. Dreary and rainy. Are there places where winter really is picturesque? I have been in NY in December and in February. I have been in Chicago in December, February, and March. I have been in Boston in January. I want a winter reminiscent of an old-fasioned Christmas card. Snowy white. Soft. Cold without bitter. Wet without the ick.

Wanna place bets that we'll be back in the 80s before the month's over?

I was having a great hair day and a great face day all rolled into one glorious, strut-worthy day… YESTERDAY.

After a night of tossing and turning, I found myself running late to work. So with makeup case in hand, I ran out to my car, sped along the interstate, screeched to a halt in a parking space, and practically trotted the quarter of a mile into the building.

There was grunt labor to do (at my otherwise stationary desk job) which had me overheated (again)… I could feel the remnants of my left-over good hair day frizzing and knew the elevation in my body temperature was leaving my face blotchy while my eyes sunk even further into my skull adding shadows to the dark-circle evidence of a restless night.

Though a harried day left me unable to find the time to apply the makeup I bothered carrying with me, something strange happened after the sun went down… We were walking through the mall and I found myself carrying some remaining sass… I was strutting – at times even sashaying… I was making eye contact with strangers and smiling warmly in the ways I only do when feeling pretty… when I know I am having a good hair day or a good face day. In one store I even flipped my puffy, no-longer-straight hair at a guy who winked at me in response… at his second take! So weird.

It's the garbage you read in magazines and self-help books… thinking to yourself how ridiculous the notion is… It's so cliché… It's so simple… It's one of the things that everyone tells you to do, but no one can tell you HOW to do it…

The bottom line…

Does self-confidence really make a person more attractive? If you believe in your head that you are pretty, do you somehow become pretty to the people outside your head?

Is the reverse true? Good face day, the perfect 'do, and a slammin' outfit aside… if you still feel hideous inside despite all the decorative elements outside… do other people see hideous?

Do traditionally pretty people having bad hair days feel this way?

The other night I stepped out my front door, took a deep breath, and thought to myself… it smells like winter. Odd… for many reasons.

1. I live in North Carolina… and very little makes me think of winter here… I mean, it gets cold; it just doesn't stay cold for long enough to make me feel like it's a season all its own.

2. What exactly does winter smell like?

It wasn't even cold out… there was a chill it the air; it was crisp. But there was an aroma. It was like smoke coming out of a chimney… burning wood… icy and clean at the same time. It brought back memories… childhood, I guess… though nothing specific. It was smoky and familiar… warm and comforting even as the chill bit at the memory. It was soft pillows and fluffy comforters… pine trees and potpourri.

Spring is floral and bright. Summer is wet and warm. Fall is crisp and dry. And those seasons have memories as well… but there was something so tangible about walking outside and breathing in the season.

So here is my conundrum...
 
I have been exposed to some of the best preachers ever on an individual and personal level... and I am extremely close to some of them... emotionally... they are dear friends and pseudo family members. Proximity... not so much.
 
What I have experienced in the churches that I have consistent access to can't measure up.
 
Where are all of the preachers who speak to me?
I want dynamic. I want accuracy/consistency, passion, and delivery. I want Truth and impact. I want to lose every other person in the room... see just the preacher... and hear just God's voice.
 
Is that really too much to ask?
 
I want to dig deeper and explore further and find more.
I don't see that. I don't hear that. I don't feel that.
 
I'm not criticizing anyone's faith or forum. What I am able to find in abundance all around me just doesn't seem to work for me. And as I continue to search and to try on different styles, I learn more about me and what I want versus what I need... what I believe versus what others are selling... what makes me different and continues to set me apart and what makes me just plain difficult to please. I remain an anomaly. I often wonder if I really am all that different... if others have learned to settle or accept in ways that I haven't... if I am searching for something that doesn't exist... if I actually am impossible to please... if I am wrong...
 
Preach real. Preach honest. Preach hard.
There's history. There's context. There's application. There's motivation.
Where are the dimensions?
Where are the layers?

And why can't I find what I am looking for... that which speaks to me?