Ordered Chaos

no air

There's a point when I start to break.

Sometimes I'm sure it's much farther forward than most people's. Maybe I have a lower threshold for stress. Or maybe I just handle it differently. Either way, there's still a point where the magnitude of things I care about and invest in starts to weigh heavy and suffocating ... leaving me worried and then worried about the fact that I'm worrying (Matthew 6:33). That's when I start to break.

And when I break, I don't lash out or cry. I just start forgetting things. My mind doesn't discriminate what it dumps — unfortunately it's an even blend of stupid and important things...

Like today I forgot a spoon on the drive to work. (Makes eating cereal out of a tupperware container difficult). Then I forgot to end a meeting. Because I forgot I had to use my lunch hour to pick up a pair of my shoes and buy a wedding tie for my bro. Then I forgot I was supposed to meet up with a friend. Because I forgot to accept the meeting request in Outlook yesterday. Then I forgot to pick up my brother's race award. Because I forgot socks. (Which meant no track practice — a runner's gym bag sans socks is useless). Then I forgot to get off at the right highway exit. Twice. Then I forgot to stop by the store and the library. (I've got to be sitting at a $5 fine by now). Then, upon arriving home far too early, it hits me that I forgot to put necessary printouts into my laptop bag. (Printouts I needed to do my freelance stuff). Then, in my rush to settle into working at home despite, I forgot to flush. (Seriously).

And that was the last straw. I had to dump the list of errors off on you ... hopefully airing them out will provide the the oxygen my brain seems to so desperately need.

country at its best

Simple guitar, smooth melody, endearing lyrics ... it's easy to see why I should really like Eric Church's most recent single ("Love Your Love the Most"). And I do, like it, that is. But I can't really embrace it ... 'cause I keep stumbling all over the first line of the second verse. It totally throws me. (Hear it here)

According to the song, the dude singing loves all things archetypal redneck. The fishing and the hunting and the honky tonks and the trucks and the Jack Daniels in his Coke. But (and here's the kicker) according to this same song — if I'm hearing right — the dude also likes Faulkner books?!

Uh, yeah right. Not possible.

Now, I get that the songwriters threw Faulkner's name into it probably ONLY because it came up in a Google search for "Things that are Southern." And, to their credit, the search would be accurate because if there ever was a SOUTHERN writer of truly American literature, it's Faulkner ... but still, don't the songwriters know that they can't just go making an addition like that to the redneck litany? It's not realistic. I mean, it's almost like the songwriters believe such a dynamic man exists! A redneck who reads literature? And doesn't just read but is a FAN of troublesome, heavy, high modernist texts?

As if.

However, on the off chance that such a dude DOES exist (and said dude also loves being in shape and reading Scripture), uh, I may have to marry him.

Currently playing: "Blue Clear Sky" by George Strait
Currently reading: CB2 catalog (on a hunt for lamps for our NEW welcome center)

she ain't right, part 2

"one thing that sometimes bothers me [about Twitter] is that it's so easy to paint our worlds as perfect...it's so easy to hide behind our usernames and our follower counts and only come and reveal the parts of our lives that shine...I know there's Post Secret and Secret Tweet where people can anonymously talk about their lives and problems but what if we owned up to some of it with our actual identities?" — Jeremy Cowart, photographer, on his blog

Truth: I don't post what I want to.

At least not much anymore. For more than a year now, I've censored myself on my blog. At some point I became afraid of tainting your view of me or offending your sensibilities. So, I stopped laying it out like I once did. I stopped being really real (or revealing).

(Which makes for bad writing, passionless and lacking in personality. Please accept my apology for boring you to bits...)

But on the heels of hanging out with David, studying Peter's missteps in Scripture, and reading Cowart's recent post ("The Truth Will Set You Free"), I'm beginning to wonder at the wisdom of waxing so abstruse all the time.

So, taking their cue, I give you some of my truth:

I cuss a lot. I'm really not sure I want to have kids. I'm super critical of/cynical about the modern church, so sometimes I don't go. I worry a lot that I'm not attractive. I overthink everything. I've got a horrid temper. I like it when a little bit of alcohol is part of a party. I've been a stupid girl before (flirting with/investing in the wrong boy) and probably have the propensity to be one again. My actions are too regularly selfish/self-absorbed. Sometimes I don't want to go to small group. I'm lazy — the fact that I haven't produced a book proves it. I love dirty hip-hop. I hate my 8-5 job on pretty days. I have moments when all I can think about is making out, etc. with a boy. I always drive over the speed limit. Oh, and I'm a bit of a control freak.

Ahh, that felt so good. Hope you still like me.

Your turn.

Currently playing: "Whistle While You Twirk" by Ying Yang Twins

today

Today I want to drink two beers and dance on a boat out in the middle of a lake.
Today I want to put on a soft cotton dress, push my sunglasses up to hold my bangs back and get a running start on rolling down a hill.
Today I want to book my flight to Peru and buy new hiking boots in prep.
Today I want to forsake the job and hit the road.
Today I want to be in my baggy grey pants in front of a wall of mirrors, choreographing something that borders on sexy but hits crazy hard.
Today I want to ride horseback on a wooded trail and gallop across an open plain.
Today I want to makeout in public with someone who smells good and loves my eyes.
Today I want to be at a DMB concert air instrumenting to "Too Much."
Today I want to be running, coaching a bunch of high school athletes up and down and through the mountains of North Carolina.
Today I want to forget who I am and become something better.

Today is one of those days. The really restless ones.

Currently playing: "No Air" by Jordin Sparks (w/ Chris Brown)
Currently reading: The Time Traveler's Wife (again - refreshing in prep for the movie)

things I endorse

If I were famous, I'd be happy to be in a bad informercial/commercial about any of the following, honest in my claims of personal experience and love:

Sonic Strawberry Limeade Slush
Laser Hair Removal
Mizuno running shoes
Mac computers
Disney annual passes
Aiguille Rock Climbing Center
Pottery Barn interiors
Buckle, Lucky Brand and A&F denim
Twilight book series
The Adobe Creative Suite
Honda
Chipotle's guacamole
Nooma
J.Crew cardigans
Big earrings
Storyville Coffee
Miniature Dachshunds
STATUS worship
MoroccanOil Intensive Hair Mask
Harry Potter books and movies
Jack's (Publix) salsa and Mission tortilla chips
Delores as a hairstylist
County library services
Netflix
CoTweet
Summit Connect
Fall Creek Falls State Park
Victoria Secret swimsuits
Cavallari's Gourmet
Flickr
Country music
Aveeno skin products
ZenDesk and Wufoo for task management/job ticketing

crazy? I was crazy once...

Occasionally (and by occasionally, I mean about once a year) I completely overthink what appears to the general population to be an insignificant decision.

That decision distracts me from everything else. I go to radical lengths to make my decision a more informed one. I ask everyone under the sun for their advice. Then I discount what they say. And then rely on it. And then discount, rely, discount, then...well, you get the picture. I imagine vividly the worst case scenarios. I lean loosely into the best case. I go with option A only to start re-thinking the merits of option B. Days spent going in circles, just winding myself into a big, fat stressball...

Once I was trying to figure out whether or not to own a dog.

Once it was whether or not to take a trip.

Today (and for the past two days) it's about choosing which bedroom to live in for the next year.

Front bedroom or back? Bigger bedroom (by 2 ft) or bigger bathroom/storage? Better spacial flow or bigger window? Privacy or easier common area accessibility?

Can't. make. decision. Rendering myself mentally immobile.

Currently playing: "In Too Deep" by Sum 41

on track

I'm 18 weeks out from Seattle beginning the week of July 26-August 1!

Soooo...I designed an 18 week workout schedule that takes me through the end of the year (actually into the second weekend in January) to keep me on track. You can view it here if you want. It's excellent fodder for slapping me around....

Anyway, I've got three goals with the plan. First, I want to be capable of running 26.2 in the hills and elevation of Seattle come November 29. I don't think a PR is possible in those conditions, but I'd like to ensure my ability to push through them. Secondly, I want to maintain full body muscle and joint strength throughout the rigorous training a marathon requires. And third, I'd like to say sprint tri ready and willing 'cause triathlons are fun.

So, the product is a training schedule heavily influenced by those goals, as well as by the local MarathonFest program I'm in, the Hal Higdon schedule I trained by last year for San Antonio, and a triathlon training schedule I found on beginnertriathlete.com. Ye-a!

In other news:
I bought a couch. And midnight showing of Harry Potter 6 tickets. My car roof is leaking. I'm doing, freelance, something that I'm good at—it feels kinda good. I bought my name as a domain/URL—I might use it eventually. 5k with small group (plus 5k more with a bro), water park, and crab feast this weekend. Rock climbing tonight. I'm jones-ing to go rope swinging. Oh, and the intro of Fall Out Boy's "Sugar, We're Going Down" still always makes me want to play guitar again....crunch, crunch.

Currently playing: "American Saturday Night" by Brad Paisley (fun song — hear it here)

climb on

I'd said I'd do it. So, despite my fear (of heights) and my utter lack of knowledge (regarding what to do or what not to do), I went rock climbing yesterday.

It was troubling. Upon entering the climbing warehouse, I barely had a chance to glimpse my surroundings before my friend handed me a pen and a waiver and told me to sign my life away. I initialed my way through standard liability lingo: You could break while partaking in this endeavor, but since You're going to do the dangerous anyway, You agree not to hold the company responsible for any brokenness You might manage to acquire on property. Thank you and uh, good luck?

Cue horror music...

There's a point at the start of any new endeavor when you have to make the conscious choice to throw your caution to the wind. You've got to toss it out and ignore its particular version of reality and roll forward, a buoyed bubble of imagination and hope. So, that's what I did as a kid half my age handed me a safety harness and told me to "step in and tighten up." And ten minutes of learning how to tie knots and what it means to "belay" later, I was deemed "ready" to climb a mountain. Uh, yea right?

Regardless of my conscious choice to the contrary, my subconscious knew I was still nervous...and I don't know about you, but my physiology listens to my subconscious...

So, sweaty palms, loss of digit dexterity, and wide eyes all accompanied me on my first climb up a sloping plane. I channeled my inner monkey and slowly navigated an easier (5.7) course toward that metal bar in the sky, touched it and attempted to be lowered gracefully to the ground. My lack of knowledge and skill left much to be desired in the grace department. Still, I'd gone high and touched back down safely....so, I was satisfied. Sorta?

Conquering a fear is one thing. Overcoming it is another. Conquering seems so sadly finite. But there's something about the word "overcoming" that paints a picture of a forgotten problem and a continuing progress....

I was satisfied with my first climb, but I was still shaky. Untying my knots or gripping another rock was difficult, as a result. My friends and I acknowledged that I was still too affected by my fear, so I strapped on a chalk bag and climbed again. And again. And again. New walls, new angles, new experiences. And slowly, I learned there was less to fear: I can trust my friend not to let me fall. There is an antidote to sweaty palms: it's called chalk and there's always some nearby. Despite how unlikely it may seem, my toe actually can hold my body weight while balancing on a pebble. My upper body strength (or lack thereof) isn't as important as I might think it is, because my legs can be relied on to do some of the work. Oh, and getting stuck ain't so bad — it just means your friends get to help you out. At the end, I was still a bit nerve-wracked, but all in all, it was an exciting first time.

I've now got less to fear, but there's still more to overcome....I think I'm going back next week.

You want in?

Currently playing: "Big Star" by Kenny Chesney

She was aware of her insecurities as she took the stage,
But she was convinced if she got up there
that she'd be discovered some day.
So, she belted it. She hit the high notes fearlessly.
Oh, she melted them...and she brought them to their feet.

reason to celebrate

These are my favorite people.*

They all make even my bad days beautiful.

Related: More pictures from the birthday fun are up here.

*There are a few faces missing...you know who you are....

still just a kid from the c/o of '99

I recently got the invite for my high school reunion in the mail. It was a badly copied message on bright orange paper, folded and stapled and addressed to me on a crooked white Avery label. So very LC.

I'm not going.

But I have been reminiscing...and might continue to do so "out loud" here over the next few weeks. We'll see..

The flashbacks started like three weeks ago when Brooks & Dunn's "How Long Gone" came on the radio while I was wasting time out on 46. I was sitting on the hood of my car, staring into the dark out at the marsh when the song that ruled the radio my senior year of high school edged its way into my present...

Immediately, I was back driving Jamie's white Integra...believing even then that having the windows down and country music blaring felt like freedom...skipping my fifth period co-op in the Public Defender's office...and heading home to watch soaps before heading back for cheer practice.

In that moment, my eyes were glued to my rearview mirror and the red Toyota that was filling it. My high school crush, his redneck truck in all it's jacked up, whip flyin', rack of lights wearin' glory, and the eye flirtation I imagined we had going on as we rolled through downtown MD had every ounce of my attention.

Which is probably why I never noticed the parking brake was on or that smoke was billowing off the tires.

Turns out his eye flirt was really just a wide-eyed response of horror to the damage I was doing to my friend's car.

He told on me the next day during lunch.

Jerk. :)

But I love the memory. And the music that brought it back....

Currently playing: "I Go Back" by Kenny Chesney
Currently reading: an old post from '04 about memories and music

"I'm only me when I'm with you"

One of these days I'm going to take Taylor's cue and put together a video of the family to her song...

But in the meantime, I'll just blog about our good times:

Last weekend Tommy (Tub) graduated with his PharmD from UF. Awesome.

Thursday thru Saturday, the family weekend of celebration featured Sonic slushes and McAllister's sweet tea, Springhill Suites, playoff games, crowded back seats, and Wolverine. Lengthy car trips from the OC to the LC to G-ville to DB Shores and back again. Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. and beach time and nap time. Impromptu (and mildly ridiculous) photo shoots (pictures here), songs-lengths of seat dancing, Hollywood Studios and Toy Story competitions. "So a lawnmower walks into a bar..." — plenty of bad jokes and inside jokes and fodder for new ones with the arrival of a free six-pack of Coors Light before 11 a.m. on the beach. Found out my mom cheats at The Name Game, that there's a part of me that still considers Pharmacy school an option (Sunday told me to ignore that part of me, at least for now), it's easy to miss Moose, and that my dad loves backing into impossible parking spaces...

It was a great weekend. With a fantastic family. Congrats Tub!

Currently playing: "She's Country" by Jason Aldean

Unrelated: I'm going through Cowboy's withdrawal. It's been like three weeks. It's gotten to the point where I'm doing line dances on my gas pedal as I drive...makes for quite the jerky ride (and it can't be good for the gas mileage, right?!)...

family

Minus the working Kelsi. As always, what's here is also up on Flickr.

Currently playing: Zac Brown Band's The Foundation album
Currently reading: the book I'm writing questions for at work
Currently watching: last night's mind-boggling episode of LOST re-play in my mind.

happy birthday mudda!

This is my woman. She's my favorite mom. Minus those tough teenage years of mine, we get along fabulously. We talk on the phone pretty much every day. Hearing her voice is always a highlight of my day. I call her when I've got buyer's remorse, or when I'm about to throw things across the room, or when I just need to talk (which is often). She understands my temper and my occasional (or consistent) need to vent....probably because she's been there, done that. She is a typical mom in that she cares desperately about what her kids do, how they feel, and who they are...but she's atypical in such blessed ways, too. She loves my country music right alongside me, never pushes me to be anything I am not or to subscribe to an established norm. She is utterly unpretentious and that is so perfectly necessary for the husband she stands beside and the kids she raised. She's a gigantic source of comfort. Cuddly. Cute. And so capable in her career. She flies to Idaho every year for a big business meeting. This year, while there, she jumped at the chance to hop in a little tiny plane with a friend and take in an exhilarating view from up above. The fact that she did that surprised me. But I really don't think it should have. The more I think about it, the more I've become certain she'd jump at more opportunities like that if they presented themselves....

It's her birthday today. I'm awfully glad she's alive and kickin'. And I pray that she spends this next year not just kickin', but all out runnin' toward some of the cooler, more exhilarating experiences and truths life (and God) has to offer. 'Cause she definitely deserves the best.

happy birthday greggo

This is me and my other favorite brother. Finding a picture of just him and me was tough (this one is over a year old), because he's not a big picture person. He's kind of unassuming about some things like that. Though his 'fro might lead you to think otherwise. 'Cause it's sweet. Seriously. He got all the curl in the family. It's totally photogenic. But like I said, he's not a big picture guy...

But that's ironic, because he actually IS a "big picture" guy. He's a planner. Thinks long-term. Knows what he wants and gets it. Every. Single. Time. The job, the wife, the house. Kids are a year away. But he's still happily driving a ratty old car, because he doesn't NEED a new one. Lost his front bumper in a parking lot accident on Saturday and laughed about it. There was freedom in his smile when he talked about it...

I've never met a guy more practical about where he's at, what he's got, and what he can do with it. But he asks for God's help, genuinely desires direction from the Divine. He's got plans to retire early. To coach kids in basketball. To travel into the cold and put his feet in warm sand. And he'll do it. But I don't know if he'd give up his job too eagerly. He's too good at it. Admired in it. Did I tell you Duke wants him? Crazy.

His birthday is today. He's getting older. Which is weird, because he's younger than me..BUT he's always been the mature one. Paving the way for his kid brother. Being a buddy to his big sister. But I think there's some unrealized potential in the kid that's completely dependent upon him reclaiming his youth. I hope he spends a little bit of this next year getting younger. 'Cause he deserves it.

In conclusion: he's pretty kick@ss. And, again, I just thought you should know.

goin' around the world in a pickup truck..

Dear God,

If you're going to send me a boy, please send him in a REALLY SWEET pickup truck. Preferably jacked up and 4WD. Also, I'd like a friend that owns a boat and lives on a lake. Please and thank you.

Amen.

Currently playing: "Redneck Yacht Club" by Craig Morgan
Currently reading: the curriculum I'm freelance writing

"you guys could be models"

Yea, we know.

I'm kidding. But they aren't. Which is weird. Maybe they were drunk?

Anyway. This is me and my baby brother at a recent get-together (and why yes, THAT IS an I <3 Mount Dora mug in my hand, thanks for asking!). He's one of my favorite brothers (I've got two of them). This one goes shopping with me. Seat dances in the car beside me. Shares new music. Takes random trips to the beach. Texts me when he's bored. Shares my radar for mirrors, penchant for taking self-portraits and the desire/need to challenge the norm.

He's about to graduate from college and become a pharmacist. I kind of hope he disappears for six months and travels the world instead. He'd love it more than I think he realizes. His girlfriend of less than a year is the first girl he's kissed. That's abnormal. And awesome. As is the fact that he doesn't care what you think. At all. Ever. So, he'll sit next to the outcast, extend a hand and offer up conversation. He's never needed or wanted the popular crowd, but danged if they don't hail him anyway. It's because he's good at everything, including pillow twirling. He acts on impulse, but they are impulses honed and toned by years of self-discipline and careful observation and a heavy reliance on God....

So, all in all, he's pretty kick@ss.  And I just thought you should know.

did you know? #7-32

There's a "25 Random Things About Me" meme making it's way around...and I don't really want to share anything important right now...so, the frivolous follows:

1. I'm ambidextrous.
2. I've never, ever wanted to travel to an Asian country.
3. My self-defense mechanism is indifference.
4. I don't understand people who sit inside on beautiful days.
5. Headphones and headbands give me unbearable headaches.
6. I actually really like beer. But I like ice cold water more.
7. I can play instruments. I just don't have the desire to do so anymore.
8. I run a space heater under my desk, even during the summer.
9. I know nearly every line in Aladdin, Home Alone, Wedding Crashers, and most FRIENDS episodes.
10. I don't watch or read the news.
11. I rather dislike being a golden goose.
12. If God weren't so pro-relationships, I'd likely be a hermit.
13. I listen to music a lot - because memories deserve a soundtrack.
14. Going to the library makes me giddy.
15. I wear heels 90% of the time.
16. I hate talking on the phone (except to my mom and dad). Email or text, please.
17. I spray my clothes with cologne. I'm pretty sure I'm really sensitive to smell.
18. I make it a goal to learn or try something new every day — I honestly don't think there's much I shouldn't at least give a shot.
19. I can (and regularly do) pull completely convincing arguments out of very thin air. I consider my ability to BS a talent.
20. Card games bore me to tears. I like me some trivia, though. (Cash Cab, anyone?!)
21. I disregard proper grammar in the name of style. But I won't date a guy that can't spell. Seriously.
22. My favorite desserts feature chocolate mousse. Or smores.
23. I find hand-washing dishes to be really relaxing.
24. I count on my fingers and have a hard time figuring the tip on a bill.
25. I always pick the cardio machine in front of the television tuned to ESPN.

Your turn.

i just want

Laying in bed tonight, praying for the people I love, it hit me hard - knocked the wind out of me and forced my eyes to fly open wide:

That more than the land. the Wrangler. the boy. the house to decorate. and the cute nose...

More than all the clothes. the horses. the accolades. the travel. and the experiences...

And even more than the validation. the comfort of community. or the knowledge that I'm being transformed and/or used by God...

I realized that this year, so much more than all of it, I just want to be a better sister, daughter, friend. I desperately want to love better those who God gives me.

That there is the shocking laid-bare, bottom of my heart, wearin' it on my sleeve truth...Crazy, huh?

So, my friends, I hope you'll forgive me my past and future failures in this arena...

And Jesus? I pray you'll help me succeed.

---

Because at the end of the day, if i'm really serious about peace, I have to love people more than I love ideas. --— Derek Webb

man, i feel like a woman

Whether they want to admit it or not, every woman has an outfit/style that makes them feel awesome. If they could get away with it, they'd wear it every day. Because in that outfit they are pretty. Powerful. Unusually hot.

I was wearing mine today.

And I feel rowdy in it. So, sitting in a quiet office for eight hours today just wasn't cutting it. So, in the time I had to kill between work and dinner with some girlfriends, I came home, popped in some Shania Twain and tore up my living room rug.

It's what I do. I mean, it's what this outfit deserves.

So, guys with girls? Give your woman a reason to wear that outfit sometime soon, k? K.

Girls without guys? Wear that outfit more often, k? K.

Related: I'd just like to thank Shania Twain for this little gem of a lyric: "You're a fine piece of real estate...and I'm going to get me some land." How can you people NOT like country music?!

city of blinding lights

My mom took a look at all my NYC pictures and e-mailed the following:

"Things I found out looking at your NY pictures...
1. You liked Central Park
2. Central Park looks just like it does on TV
3. NY streets look just like they do on TV
4. Greg is very impressive in that he had flowers waiting for Kelsi in the hotel room.
5. You look really good in hot pink.
6. You are prettier than you think. Your hair looks great in NYC143.
7. I know where your little brother got his habit of self picture taking."

She's right on all accounts.

Other things you can tell if you look hard enough:
I didn't just like, but I loved Central Park. I was stressed out during 60% of the trip. I still think about the Twilight saga a lot. I really need a tan. Hotel 57 is a great place to stay. The city beat me up on Thursday night - we're talking soaking wet in pouring rain, bent umbrella, finger bleeding, knee throbbing, ego bruised, cussing like a sailor, and the tears falling kind of pummeling. We shopped, constantly marveling at the variety. I love my cowboy boots. Walking is an excellent, but exhausting mode of transportation. The subway can and should be conquered. We ate at some perfect places. I am not a fan of party girls. You learn a lot about self and others when you travel. Wicked is popular for a hundred really good reasons. Buildings block the sun. My camera can take awesome pictures in the right light. I am grateful for familiarity in friendship, over and over again. We couldn't help but reference FRIENDS and Law and Order throughout. 80% of me (that tom-boy, redneck part) wouldn't be able to handle city life long-term, but 20% of me could truly thrive there. The city is alive, it is exhausting, it is gross, it is tired and taxing, but it is perfect and oddly beautiful and addictive.

Finally (and I think it should be fairly obvious), I'd really like to go back.

----

"The more you see, the less you know...
The less you find out as you go
I knew much more then than I do now"