on not being that woman

You guys. The silence. It's inexcusable. Especially because 1 month ago today, I got married.

And I'm sorry. And I promise that we're going to blog about the ceremony (which was oh, so holy and worshipful and community-focused and exactly what we'd hoped for) and the reception (which was staggeringly, breathtaking beautiful thanks to my talented mother and her talented crew) and the honeymoon (which was warm and relaxing and long).

But today I need to laugh, and I need you to laugh with me.

So yesterday I was tooling around on Pinterest, the website which proves that women are, in fact, visual creatures. And while I was on Pinterest, I saw this picture:

[photo/recipe credit]

Don't those look delicious? The simple caption beneath the photo read "Apples + cinnamon + oven @ 200 degrees = homemade apple chips."

So I turned to Jon, who was reading beside me (how great is married life?), and said: "I think I'll make these tonight with the leftover apples from our wedding." Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

I sliced up the apples and arranged them just so on our cookie tray with our silpat pan liner (love!). I went to grab the cinnamon out of the cupboard when I realized we have no cinnamon. However, I'd received a Penzey's spice box decorated with whole cinnamon sticks (shower gifts for the win). I pulled out our the-holes-are-too-small-to-be-a-decent cheese grater and went to work. When that proved nearly impossible, I turned to the Magic Bullet (Ashley knows me so well) and pulverized those pieces. I sprinkled my fresh gourmet ground cinnamon on my apple slices. So certain was I of my imminent success, I saved the rest in a jar to used on future apple chip endeavors.

As I popped the tray of soon-to-be apple chips into the oven, I hugged Jon and remarked smugly, "I might just become one of those women, y'know, the kind who grind their own cinnamon and bake their own apple chips." What I meant was "I might just become the Pioneer Woman."

Okay stop laughing.

I was supposed to flip the chips after an hour. I forgot about them amidst folding laundry and got to them after 1:15. Half were already burned beyond repair and the other half, my ever-loving Cortlands, had been reduced to dry-on-the-outside-applesauce-flesh-on-the-inside apple-ish-kind-of rings.

Together, Jon and I sorted through the chips tasted every one, determining whether it was edible. I threw away many that were too brown to even talk about.

As I cleaned up the kitchen, I turned to Jon and said, defeated, "Guess I'm not that woman after all."

He just smiled, kissed me, and said "Not yet."

we fell in love and we're getting married, cont.

If you're just joining us, you should first read Parts I & II of this story. I'm very excited to have a terrific guest blogger join me: my handsome fiancé, Jonathan Keller.

Recap: We're on the 95th floor of the Hancock Center in Chicago. Maggie still hasn't figured out what's going on, and Jon is getting tense--it's time to ask a question!

Part III: The Proposal

On the other side of the lounge, Jon and I moved around tables of other seated parties, trying to get a good look at the lake and city lights. Standing near the back corner, Jon put his arm around me and thanked me for coming to Chicago to spend time with his friends. I still thought he was just being sweet, and I pointed out that his friends were becoming mine as well. I hadn’t really planned a speech. I needed to bring up the subject of, you know, asking Maggie to spend the rest of her life with me. Thankfully, she gave me a window by mentioning my friends.

Then Jon told me he had ulterior motives for inviting me to Chicago this weekend.

And suddenly, I knew. For sure and for certain, I knew.

He said he loved getting to know me the past 6 months, and in fact, he loved me! He told me he had invited our friends to join us this weekend. I thought, Oh they couldn’t make it, but that’s sweet he invited them! I named them one by one—they were waiting one floor below us! He told me we were here because he had a question to ask me. My eyes grew big, and I whispered, “Nooooo!” Jon grinned and said, “Oh, yes.”

Which is roughly when my brain detached from my body. Jon may have to correct the following details, because everything got a bit fuzzy for me. I was a little worried: if you know Maggie, she faints easily, and she hadn’t eaten much all day. Plus she had mono!

It was a bit surreal for me as well. This was a moment I had been waiting for my whole life. Perhaps movies or books had convinced me that time would slow down, that music would start playing, that this moment would somehow be more real. In reality it was a moment that passed like any other. Yet the joy in Maggie’s eyes and the relief in my heart were quite palpable. It was a moment that was very full. I wish I could have slowed it down to analyze it and find out how I felt about it, but all I could do was act.

He drew back, got down on one knee, and held a white ring box in his hand. From over my shoulder I heard a lady say, “Oh my gosh, he’s proposing!” Mercifully, Jon cut right to the chase: “Margaret Emma, will you marry me?”

To be honest, I was caught off guard. I had dreamed of this moment, wished it to happen, and even thought about what I would say. I wanted to be eloquent, gracious, ready with the perfect acceptance. Something like: “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.” or “Yes. Yes today, yes tomorrow and the day after, yes every day for the rest of our lives.” I wanted the perfect response...that's the actress in me! Just in case you didn’t know: I’m going to marry a movie star!

I think I said 4 words: I, love, you, yes. Super eloquent. I was just glad she didn’t faint.

In whatever order my words came out, Jon understood what I meant. I leaned down, took the ring box, pulled him to his feet, wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him real good. I asked him to put the ring on my finger, and as he did so, he explained—again, because I missed it the first time—that our friends were, indeed, waiting downstairs. “They’re all here,” Jon repeated, “Jake, Spencer & Marj, Laura, Amanda & Kyle, Dan, Drew & Alison, and Claire & Tyler sent a letter.” And that’s when I became more or less absurdly emotional.

Her tears started to swell earlier than this, but they definitely started flowing when she realized that all of these friends were here to celebrate with us. It took a while for it to sink in for me. I’m apparently not one of those people who gets flooded with relief. After she said yes, my body wasn’t ready to completely relax, but at least the tension wasn’t building anymore!

Remember back in Part I, when we explained how our community has been a foundation for us? They have been crucial in the development of our relationship – they introduced us! Both Jon and I were made for community: we thrive in it, prioritize it, and are blessed by it. Having our friends and loved ones there to celebrate made the difference between the perfect night and the best night of our lives. It moved me to tears that our friends loved us so much. This is how we roll.

Part IV: The Party

After I had a chance to stare at the bling on my finger (oh, it’s definitely bling), giggle ridiculously, and check with Jon to make sure I’d actually said yes out loud, we made our way downstairs to the welcoming surprise party. Hugs all around!

Dan had been stealthily wandering around upstairs with Spencer and Marj’s camera and a massive lens. Unfortunately, he was unaware of the ring box/wallet dilemma, so he wasn’t checking the area where we were. After we came back downstairs and everyone congratulated us, people started asking, “Where’s Dan?” He eventually found his way downstairs, too, but feigned annoyance: “Where WERE you guys?”

Dinner at the Signature Room was fantastic. Obviously, there were the lights of the city, Lake Michigan, and an elegant ambiance. In addition, we had spectacular wait-service although they were a little surprised that someone my age would order what we did: between the 11 of us, I made sure we ordered every appetizer, most of the entrees, and most of the desserts on the menu!
Most importantly, we had a chance to celebrate around the table. In lot of ways we were breaking bread like the disciples did with Jesus. Being able to enjoy a wonderful meal with close friends was a taste of heaven. For many of us, it was the best meal of our lives. So far.

During dinner, the calls and texts started flying. Jon texted practically everyone he knew to let them know I’d said yes. He even included a directive not to post anything on Facebook until we’d had a chance to tell our grandparents (oh, proposals in the 21st century!). I called my college roommates from the bathroom; we’d celebrated our graduation at the Signature Room nearly two years ago. Jon and I were anxious to share the good news! Over champagne toasts, dessert fireworks, and much laughter, our group celebrated life, love, and the God who makes it all possible.

We left the Hancock Center for the W Lakeshore to continue the party with more city views. A limo driver happened to be sitting outside the Hancock and offered to drive us!
Several people in our group had never been in a limo—Jon included—and this unexpected treat made the night all the more memorable! $5 a person...how could I say no?

At the W, we visited the Sky Lounge and the bouncers even ushered us into Altitude, the rotating rooftop banquet room with panoramic views of the city. We were the only ones in there, too, so it was pretty spectacular! I love the W, whether it’s Hollywood, Silicon Valley, Manhattan, Foshay Tower, City Center, or Lakeshore...they’ve always treated me well.

We wrapped up the night at The Living Room, the W’s main-floor lounge. I was fading fast, and we had a flight to catch the next morning. Our party dispersed and Jon and I caught the Metra back to Hyde Park. We were so absorbed in talking and dreaming about our wedding, we nearly missed our stop! Jon yelled, “This is it!” and dashed out of the train car, while I sprinted to catch up. I figured I could hold the door while Maggie caught up. I also didn’t want to be walking around an unfamiliar part of South Chicago at 1:30 AM on Sunday morning.

Sunday morning, we enjoyed brunch at Medici with Dan, Drew and Alison before our flight back to Minneapolis. Of the 36 hours we spent in Chicago, the final 16 as an engaged couple were the most surreal, the most full, the most rewarding. In the words of Rebecca Black, “We, we, we so excited!”

We are grateful to Dan and Janelle, Drew and Alison, Spencer and Marie, Kyle and Amanda, Laura, and Jake for celebrating with us in person and to the countless others who celebrated with us in spirit. We are grateful to our family for their support and blessing. We are grateful to our friends for praying for us. And we’re grateful to you all, for reading our story and being a part of our journey toward becoming one. The weekend went perfectly, and that is only by the grace of God. Thank you very much for your support and prayers.




And if you thought this story was good...

We are eagerly anticipating our wedding the evening of October 14th. We guarantee it will be the hottest party of the year, and we know it will be the new best night of our lives!











Special thanks and photo credit: Spencer and Marjorie Howell

basically, we fell in love and we're getting married

Despite the fact that I've always dreamed about writing this story, I can't do it alone. I’ve asked Jonathan McCrary Keller--guest blogger extraordinaire and my fiance--to help me tell what has become very much our story. I’m thrilled to be able to help out. I've never blogged before so bear with me.

We have attempted to be purposefully detailed for the sake of faraway friends and family who aren't able to hear us tell the story in person. Today's installment is the first half...stay tuned for the part where he asks me a question and [spoiler alert:] I say yes!

Part I: The Beginning

In the beginning, God had this all planned out. He has orchestrated, directed, and guided us in this entire process. Also in the beginning was a terrific community of friends and loved ones. We have been rooted deeply in this group of believers and have been well-supported, well-loved, and well-grounded. We are grateful for their guidance and accountability.

When I met Jon at a dinner party last August, I had no idea that the tuxedo-clad co-host with a penchant for bow ties and marathon running would win my heart so completely, so quickly. When I met Mags at Filet Friday Formal on Saturday, I knew immediately that I wanted to spend more time with her.

Turns out, when you know, you just know. And we knew. Very quickly, we knew. I almost bought an engagement ring within a few weeks of dating Maggie. Thankfully, I waited and was able to get something she really liked.

Part II: The Set-Up

In February, Jon’s friends Drew and Alison invited us to the Chicago Cubs' season opener on April 2nd. So we made plans and bought airplane tickets. And all the while, I thought I was going for baseball. Technically, Drew bought the tickets and it was Drew's idea. I just paid for it. :) The entire engagement planning process, I asked the help of numerous friends and family. I also prayed a lot. Our friends and family prayed even more.

Then, two Sundays ago, I discovered I had mono. I took the week off from work to rest. And suddenly, everyone wanted to know if I was still going to Chicago. Wow, I thought, this baseball game is a bigger deal than I thought! I tried to downplay her needing to go to Chicago; I even suggested that she might not have to go...all the while hoping and praying desperately that she would still be able to.

So we went to Chicago. Not really for baseball. But I didn't know that.

There were a couple hiccups on Friday night: things I noticed and things I completely missed. Jon was very late picking me up for our flight, and I was nearly frantic! I kept pacing the house, getting more and more upset that he was so late! I showed up at her place about 55 minutes before our flight left...I had to pick up the ring!

Later that night, in the cab leaving Midway airport, I tried to make a joke about Jon’s intelligence which completely backfired, thus proving that I am not the funny one and should just stop trying altogether. On the way to Hyde Park, Maggie freaked me out. She asked about dinner on Saturday and I said, "All I know is that we have to wear nice clothes." Maggie quipped, "That's not all you know." I almost had a heart attack...did she know???? Had one of the 50-plus people I told spilled the beans??? No, she was just joking. I HATE not being fully open or honest with someone—even if it is for a surprise.

We stayed with Drew and Alison in Hyde Park, and all of us met up with Dan, Jon's friend from high school for the game Saturday. On the way, I asked Jon about dinner plans, since he had promised me a fancy dinner in the city. Jon acted like he couldn’t remember and asked Dan, who casually mentioned he made a reservation at the Signature Room at the top of the Hancock Center. Jon alternately feigned surprise and delight as Dan described the lakefront and city views and as I pointed out that we'd probably be there just before sunset. (That, of course, like everything else, was planned.)

The Signature Room was originally Dan's idea. When I was brainstorming places to propose in Chicago, this had been the one Dan recommended most highly. I made a reservation at 7:30pm, but told Dan to act like it was for 7pm; that way we would have some wiggle room. On the train, I did my best to pretend that I had no idea where we were going. Drew and Alison had to turn away to hide their smiles.

The Cubbies certainly didn't disappoint: they managed a comeback in the bottom of the 8th to win 5-3 over the Pirates. Jon was excited, but I assumed it was because of the baseball game. It was a great omen for the rest of the night.

Go, Cubs, go!

So happy to be back in Chicago!

Drew and Alison like Chicago, too!

After the game, we made our way back toward Hyde Park. The whole mono thing had worn me out, and I fell asleep a little on the Red Line. And again at Dan and Janelle’s apartment. But never mind that; it’s so not important in the grand scheme. Maggie ate cereal in the morning and peanuts at the baseball game. I worried about her strength, but was also unsure how to remedy the situation; I was concerned that she might not be able to stay awake for dinner!

We made a stop at the University of Chicago, where Dan delighted us all with a comedic tour of campus: pointing out the purposes of various buildings, telling us where to get the best coffee, and providing general commentary. My favorite moment was while we wandered around in the afternoon sun, I caught Jon looking at me. I squeezed his hand and smiled, reveling in how blessed I am to have him in my life. My anticipation was building.

And still, I didn’t know. I hoped this was true.

Back at Drew and Alison’s, we all got ready for dinner as fast as humanly possible. It’s quite likely I set a personal record. I felt rushed and flustered—I even did my makeup in the car—and it kept me from noticing Jon, a complete wreck in the front seat (poor guy)!

Of course, I was unaware that 6 of our Minnesota friends had driven down to surprise me at our engagement party. Jon, however was fully aware. We were running a bit late. I worried that people would get to the Hancock Center too early and that we would see everyone. I worried that we would see one of our friends walking on the street. I worried that Jake would pull up alongside us in the car. I considered ways to distract Maggie from a potential friend sighting and texted our friends to delay or stay hidden.

By the time we parked in the ramp, we were late for our reservation and I felt quite anxious. I sensed Jon was upset about it as well, as he grew very impatient that the ramp elevator stopped at every single floor. Still, I couldn’t understand why he had basically pushed me into the corner of the elevator.

I was panicked that one of our friends would be waiting on the other side of the elevator doors. I hoped at least I might see them first and have a chance of keeping Maggie from seeing them. Not only did we stop on the 8th floor, we were stuck there. The doors closed and we stayed...the doors opened and closed again...but we still stayed. On the 8th floor. Panic levels were quite high. Finally the elevator starting moving, right when I told people it would be all clear.

On the first floor of the Hancock Center, there was an elevator line spanning the length of the entire lobby. Jon stood there, BlackBerry in hand, muttering something about how we should be able to move to the front of the line. With a teasing smile, I reminded Jon that he can’t achieve priority status for everything; Jon was not amused.

We were sitting ducks! I had no idea where our friends were and had already told them it would be all clear! I texted people to let them know we were stuck in line, but I had no idea if everyone had their phones or if they were checking them as obsessively as I checked mine. At that moment, an elevator attendant informed us that those with dinner reservations could come directly to the front of the line.

When we arrived on the 95th floor, we conveniently discovered that the reservation was actually for 7:30 (miracle of miracles!). Jon took my hand and led me up to the lounge to take in the sunset city views.

I thought I had it made. The sun was setting, we had detached from our friends, and given an excuse. We got upstairs and got in line for table in the lounge/bar area. We noted, however, that they were carding. I obviously had my ID, but the ring box was on top of my wallet! I tried to fish my wallet out of my pocket (if you know me, my wallet is not the slimmest!), but it was not happening. We needed to get out of line and fast! I looked around for another place we could go, but before I thought of anything, we were at the front of the line! I blurted out “I have to go to the bathroom!”, left the line, and took Maggie with me. I was only in the bathroom about 15 seconds, just long enough to take a deep breath, take out the ring to make sure it was there, and then go back out. We had to find a different place to do this! Also, if you know me: my hands were VERY sweaty at this point!

If you’re still with us, congrats! The next part is when it gets good, so check back tomorrow!

i have a knack for embarrassing myself

Just because y'all are special

and just because it's my hundredth post

and just because I'm feeling generous and more than a little self-deprecating

but mostly just because I write whatever I want on this blog anyway....

Tonight, I'm going to tell you a story.*


Once upon a time (because that's how these things always start), there was a well-meaning girl with a heart of gold and honest intentions. Sure, sometimes she did brainless things like accidentally resending text messages to an ex-boyfriend, or losing her keys in a restaurant and not realizing it for approximately 7 hours, or oversleeping twice in two weeks, or even keeping an absurdly overemotional online journal throughout her early years of college.

But truly, this girl meant well. She tried to do the right thing in loving God and loving people. She tried to encourage them and point them back to a gracious God. It's just that sometimes she did stupid stuff.

Or, rather, does stupid stuff. Still.

Because this morning, this girl with the good intentions was supposed to get up at 5:15 to take her wonderful boyfriend to the airport so he could go spend the holiday week with his sister and his college friends. And she really wanted to be a help to him and getting up early on her day off was the least she could do. But even in that, she failed.

Due to a number of outside circumstances including, but not limited to: not going to bed early enough, setting the alarm for PM instead of AM, and--lest we forget--leaving her phone in her desk at work, our little Miss Congeniality failed to wake up until 7:15am, which was more or less the takeoff time for her boyfriend's flight.

Kai.

Thankfully, Mr. Wonderful made his flight, due to a great friend who has proved, once again, that he is great at coming through in the clutch. Not to mention that Mr. Wonderful has been nothing but gracious and forgiving about the whole mess. Which makes our well-meaning girl feel a bit less terrible.

But only a tiny little bit.

*This story may be my measly attempt at penance.

once a nanny, always a nanny

I had one of those "moments" tonight.

You know the kind where you're pretty sure time is moving too fast and you just want everything to slow down a little?

Yeah, that.

I babysat tonight for a family I have come to love. What started as a strictly housekeeping position three summers ago has become a beautiful, flexible, on-call-when-you-need-me job. A few weeks ago, it was taking Andrew to hockey (and getting all his equipment on him, which was a job and half). Tonight was straight-up babysitting for Andrew (6) and Matthew (almost 3).

Here's why I had my little "moment":

Fall 2007. Matthew arrives.

Then there's these, from tonight:

Andrew eating Cheerios and working on homework.

Matthew, snuggling up after a little meltdown

So there it is: my moment. I can't believe Andrew is old enough to read books to me. I melted a little when Matthew pointed at the lions in our book and said "li-lon." I've been privileged to watch these little ones become little boys. I've been with this family through potty training and home renovation. I've taken the boys down the slide at the park and pushed them on the swings. I've looked after them in toy stores and hair salons. I once stopped Andrew from being struck by a car. And a few weeks ago, I had intermittent freak-outs every time he fell on the ice at hockey practice.

Their family has shared my life with me, too. They were around when Amanda got married. I was still with them when Dad and Jake had their accident on the Yellowstone. In fact, they were among the first to know about Nigeria, since I was working for them at the time.

There's just a lot of life that's happened in the 3+ years I've known their family. And tonight I had a little moment: memories of all that I've been blessed to see and experience with them wrapped up in a glimpse of the future in store for them. It was precious, to say the least.

Clearly, I'm not a mom yet. And from what I've heard, these "moments" get more intense worse when they're your own. Clearly, I'm not there yet. But I hope to be someday. I figure this is something like fair warning.

the hump that is wednesday

Following the overwhelming cuteness of that last post, how's this for a dose of reality?

I overslept this morning. Meant to get up at 7:30. Looked at the clock at 8:42.

Aaaand this whole being-an-adult thing gets thrown under the bus just. like. that. Embarrassing.


[I was only 10 minutes late to work. I love my job and my 2.5-mile commute.]

on manly men and being protected

Disclaimer
You will be offended by this post if you are one of the following: feminist, misogynist, pacifist, anti-outdoors/anti-camping, anti-vigilantism, or anti-guns. Here we go...

Once upon a time, my dad was a mountain man. There are not many things I love more than seeing pictures of my dad with a wild red beard or a bandana on his head. He and his friend Mikey once canoed the entire Yellowstone River from start to finish, just to give you an idea of the severity of their mountain man-ness. Everyone, meet my Dad, circa 1982:

Dad on the left; on the right is Mikey.

Please permit me to state outright and without apology that my dad is a total badass.These guys are some of the manliest men I've ever known. I'm pretty sure they got into legit fights. Again: manly. men.

Right, Dad is the bomb. So is Mikey, who now lives in the Wyoming wilderness and wields chainsaws on a regular basis. Dad and Mikey remain in contact, and a couple years ago, when my dad and brother set off to do the same Yellowstone trip (plus or minus 26 years), they stopped to see Mikey on the way:

Yep, still badasses.

You have to know about Dad and Mikey's adventures, and you have to appreciate their mountain man-ness in order to appreciate what I am about to tell you.

My dad raised me to be an independent young woman; I don't believe I've ever been a "daddy's girl." That said, we have always had a close relationship, and I don't think I will ever know or understand what it did to my dad when I decided to move to Nigeria. Outwardly, he was a rock: he put on a brave face, encouraged me to do this crazy thing, and trusted God for my protection. For that I will always love him.

But the other day, Dad made mention of those weeks prior to my move:

"You know, Mikey told me if anything had happened in Nigeria, he would have gone to find you."

I wish I were kidding, but images of Taken flashed through my head and tears came to my eyes.

As independent as I may be, I am still (on some level) a little girl who wants to be loved and protected. And though my interactions with Mikey have been few, the stories have been many. Mikey is a good man whose word is his bond. If Mikey told my dad he would have come to get me, I believe him. It means a lot to know that I am cared for and protected by good men.

So today I am thankful for the men in my life: men who are like grandfathers, men who are like fathers, men who are like brothers. I am surrounded by godly, protective men, and I am grateful.

let's play a game

It's called the Neck or No Neck game.

I'm torn over the concept of turtlenecks. I got a couple from Marjorie, but I just don't know if it makes me look neckless or not. The general concept is that I need a neck. Being neckless is not a desirable state, in my opinion.

So, calling all fashionistas: please evaluate the picture below. I need to know if this should be a regular contender or a one-time-only show, if you know what I mean.

the embarrassment continues

I thought that post on high-school-aged me was the most embarrassing one I've ever written.

I'm about to outdo myself.

As some background, let me just tell you I had the most amazing weekend. Twins game, good friends, good movies, good food, and lots of good laughs. Just a phenomenal weekend.

As the cherry on the top of that weekend is the tiny little detail that I lost my car keys last night.

Lost my keys. Do you know who loses keys? Ancient people who shouldn't be driving. And 15-year-old girls. And maybe also my brother.

Jake just did this a month ago. And when it happened to him, I laughed and thought, "Hmm. Maybe I should have a spare set made for my car. Whatever - I'm responsible."

Joke's on me.

The keys could be in any of the following places: Spencer and Marjorie's house, their car, Fogo de Chão in downtown Minneapolis, anywhere on the Nicollet Mall, the 38th floor of the IDS Tower, or Jon's car.

You know, one of those places.

What a great foray into adult life: phoning the Hyundai Dealership to find out how to create a car key from scratch. Watch me grow up realfast.

EDIT 3pm CST: My keys have been located at the restaurant. Thank God! My pride is restored!

up and down and up and down and up and

It's been a bipolar kind of day. You know what I mean, right? Those kinds of days that start out promising and nosedive before your second cup of coffee? It might pick back up again at lunch, but woe to those trying skate through the witching hour of 3:30 - 4:30.

Well, that's been my day. I hope you can relate. I hope I'm not alone. For the sake of humor, here's a recap of my rollercoaster day (quotes courtesy my Facebook and Twitter feed)

"As I was falling asleep last night, I had a thought and said to myself, "You should tweet that tomorrow." Well, it's tomorrow. I forgot."

"Dealing with argumentative and belligerent people has to be the least favorite part of my job."

"Need to marvel at something today? http://justpaste.it/3ky"

"Hiskja (coworker's son, age 6) just walked into the office saying, "I have to show my dad my new Clone Wars skateboard with General Grievous on it." Oh how I love my job."

"I hate budgets. #monthlycashflowplan @daveramsey #FPU"

"Financial Aid makes me want to tear my hair out."


Someone please tell me I'm not alone in this. Someone also please tell me that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it. Someone also remind me that Glee is on tonight and I'll be with good friends for it.

the clock is ticking

In recent years, I've found myself increasingly attuned to others' marketing strategies. The most effective strategies I've seen lately are in video format.

It started in July with Ford's video campaign to unveil the new Explorer. It was a mystery, really, that a marketing video for a car could give me goosebumps.

Then there was this one, which brought tears to my eyes: Amazima Ministries on Vimeo

And then just today, a friend shared this one in their Facebook stream. It's for The Girl Effect and it's put a burning in my soul.



I still don't know what I'm going to do about it, but it's raised a lot of burning questions in my heart, primarily: "What can I do? right now? from here?"

daily dose of embarrassing humor

Discovery of the YEAR:

I kept a Xanga account during my freshman year of college.

Oh my it is atrocious. I was so angst-ridden. How did I live with me?!

I'm not going to share the address with you, because I am that embarrassed, but here's some fun snippets. Let's all just laugh together. I'm nothing if not self-deprecating, yes?

"Interests: music, friends, coffee / Expertise: massages"

5/24/06: "Maybe I'll try keeping this thing updated more often. Maybe I'll start waking up before noon. Maybe I'll start running 3 miles every day. Maybe I'll be a size 6 before August. Maybe I'll be more responsible this summer. Maybe I'll make a lot of money. Maybe I'll plan out my life...at least the next 3 years. Maybe I'll receive some kind of Divine Revelation about my future. Maybe I'll take life more seriously. Maybe I'll take life less seriously. Maybe I'll bond with my brother this summer. Maybe I'll get to know my dad better. Maybe I'll quit talking to half my Wheaton friends. Maybe I'll develop my relationships here at home. Maybe I won't come home at all next year. Maybe I'll make a rash decision this summer...like choosing to pick up and fly to newhampshire to see Jayj or to newjersey to see Mattie or to texas to see... Maybe I'll learn how to be a leader amongst my peers. Maybe I'll make a lot of really good decisions this summer. Maybe I'll make a lot of bad decisions, too. Maybe I'll actually sort through all my crap. Maybe I'll just let it sit in the boxes until August. Maybe I'll cut my hair. Maybe I'll just let it grow. Maybe I'll start playing tennis. Or golf. Yeah, maybe golf. Maybe I'll be a fantastic nanny this summer. Maybe the kids will hate me. Maybe Connor will be an angel this summer...who am i kidding, maybe he'll threaten my life. Maybe I'll buy a new wardrobe. Maybe I'll get colored contacts. Maybe I'll come back a changed woman. Maybe I'll just stay the same.

Maybe."

11/23/05: "well, God continues to be good. (what a surprise) I am still an English major, but the hope is to become certified to teach ESL overseas. That's right...Maggie's gonna be a missionary."

9/12/05: "I secretly want to do something semi-destructive...dying my hair wasn't enough"

It's just so humiliating! If you were friends with me back then, thank you for sticking it out until I was less annoying. And if you dated me back then, well...bless you. That must have been a bumpy ride.

never say never

Never say never to God's timing.

I feel like someone needs to hear this today. And maybe it's me.

I just listened to the father of a prospective student tell us the story of his 7 children. 2 are biological, 5 are adopted, and only 2 of those adoptions were "planned," according to Dad. One adoption was finalized in 24 hours. They're not celebrities or millionaires, just regular people who follow the leading of a magnificent God.

At the end of his incredible story of timing, faithfulness, and ways greater than our ways, he said to us: "Never say never. God's timing is always right." How simple. How profound.

Maybe you needed to hear and listen to that message today. Maybe we all do.

you can laugh...

The fundamental rule to embarrassing moments is that as long as they happen to somebody else, they're hilarious.

As long as they happen to somebody else.

Not today, my friends.

This afternoon I switched phones. The Samsung Sway I purchased last summer ended up being a major disappointment. (Clearly, I hadn't anticipated moving to Nigeria when I upgraded.) I would not advise you to ever purchase this model - the battery lasts less than 24 hours, even when not in use and the screen rarely functions. And this is after being turned off for 10 months while I was overseas.

Right, so I switched phones, back to the one I used in college. It contains most of my contacts anyways, and while it's not cool-looking, at least I can read the screen when someone calls me.

The phone also contained all texts sent and received from last summer before I left for Africa. Instead of just deleting all the messages like a smart person, I re-read and deleted each one individually. Like a not-smart person.

And then somewhere in that process, I resent a couple of those messages. Accidentally. Messages from a year ago. Messages that don't mean anything anymore. Messages to the guy I dated last summer. Messages to the guy I'm no longer dating, but whom I was dating when I first sent those messages.

Oh. My. Gosh.

Also, oops.

Also, my bad/sorry.

Also, that's embarrassing.

See? This is why technology complicates our lives. This is why cell phones suck and I'm a terrible texter. Because apparently I'm also a re-texter.