Dressing in the Dark: Fashion Faux Pas and other memorable moments

Have you ever gotten all the way to work and realized your underwear was on inside out? Welcome to my world. I used to consider myself fashionable, but now, after years of experience and long periods of reflection, I’ve come to a different conclusion.

Looking back there are moments in time I’m glad there were no photographers. And, others still where I’m sorry there were. Let’s take a trip through Amandaland.

I’ll start with a less offensive example to ease you into my past. While working a very formal awards banquet, one of my roles was to sit by the stage and walk the awards over to the Emcee. (Just call me Vanna). So, true to myself, I dressed the part. A long, black, strapless gown with just a bit of sparkle at the top was the outfit of the night. With my hair curled and cute jewelry, I was ready to go. I actually got a lot of compliments that evening so I thought I was pretty cool stuff. I was posing for pictures, and really feeling good about repeatedly waltzing across the stage in front of 350 people. One thing you need to know about me is my hair doesn’t “do” anything so I need heaps of hairspray to even attempt to do anything other than the long, flat Jan Brady look. I may have gone overboard that night. In retrospect, I look like something out of a 1992 Miss America Pageant. I could’ve written a country music tune, “A little less hairspray and a lot more hairbrush.”

More recently, I was wearing some new boots that were pretty cute. Black leather numbers that are sort of biker meets yuppie. I really like them (obvi). Since people are wearing boots with dresses these days and I decided to pair these with a dress for work one day. It was winter after all I wanted to keep my feet warm. And, for the most part, I think I was right. But perhaps where I strayed was that I chose to wear them inside the building. Upon further review it was more mini-dress-meets-moon-boots, than artsy-hipster.

Flowy cardigans. Whoever came up with these was seriously disturbed. However, until I saw myself in one, I thought they were the bee’s. There’s nothing like having spent the day with your board of directors, giving presentations, etc, laughing over some cocktails with them afterward, only to see a photo of yourself and discover you looked about a small as two pigs in the same pair of spandex tights. The best part was one of the women said, “Well, that’s not your greatest photo.” Thank you?

The very best example I can ever share with you came early on in my career-wear days. I had gotten a cute black and gold necklace/bracelet combo and wanted to pair it with a really basic outfit. It was a simple set, but unique, so I needed to wear something equally simple and just let it make a soft statement. Ask yourself what kind of statement a black leather strap with a gold buckle across your neck makes. It’s really awesome to know that I wore a dominatrix dog collar to work. And that it was caught on film.

I suppose you can say if you don’t take chances, you’ll just be boring. So, I guess I have that going for me.

Solving the world's problems, one coffee break at a time.

I love the conversations that happen at the office. The ones that come up randomly with your co-workers while you're completely busy working on something, sometimes even with your headphones on. Someone pipes up with a comment about The Hurt Locker, or the grocery, or the revolution that was the microwave. I love it.

A few choice examples as of late:

#1 - Commencement speakers. It's that time of year, and UND was heavily promo'ing US Sec of Homeland Security Janet Napolitano as its speaker. The question posed was: how are these people are chosen? When you look around at the vast majority of commencement speakers, you have to wonder if they were tapped for their accolades or for their attributes. A person may have a laundry list of accomplishments, titles, etc. S/He may be a brilliant person. But a good speaker that does not make. Inspiring, engaging, filling young minds with vigor, gratitude and a can-do attitude -- these are all things people expect from a speaker. These are things rarely gotten. After much consideration, we had an intra-office jinx that Madonna should speak at UND in 2011. Runner up was Samuel L. Jackson. Not that either is Ghandi, but at least they'd be entertaining. Hats off as well to Ms. Napolitano for quality remarks under the 15 min mark. You're aces in my book.

#2 - Facebook buttons. There's a "like" button on facebook, which is really helpful if someone posts something like "I'm going to a Green Peace rally". But, what about when someone says "My grandma just died"? Um, awkward. My officemate did a little unscientific survey and came up with the following submissions for additional facebook buttons for all of life's occassions: Jealous, Hug, Lust, and a few others I don't remember. My very passionate argument was for "Disagree". Not that it would help in the instance of a death in the family.

#3 -Microwaves. Remember when the swept the nation? They swept it in a way bigger and broader than the iPod or even Obama '08. Everyone had to get one. I still remember going to get our first one; it was like an official family outing. And let me say, I don't really know why it was such a big deal (other than the fact that it was an Amana, dangerously close to my name and at roughly age 6 that obviously made it amazing) - it was nearly the size of the regular oven and didn't cook that much faster from what I remember. It had this huge door that swung down just like real oven, with orange digital numbers and faux wood siding. So modern and stylish. Sadly, I think my sister had it as a hand-me-down until not that long ago. The funny thing was my officemate's grandma didn't want one because she couldn't figure out what to do with all the extra space in her kitchen when she got rid of her range.

Summer Reading List

With the end of the school year upon you, I figured you can't start your vacations without a summer reading list. So whether you bring your book to the beach or just relax on your patio in the evenings with a glass of wine, here are some books I think you'll enjoy.

Laugh-out-loud:

- Long Way Down, by Nick Hornby

- Holidays On Ice, by David Sedaris

- We Thought You'd Be Prettier, by Laurie Notaro

Chic Lit:

- Thanks for the Memories, by Cecilia Ahren

- Expecting Adam, by Martha Beck

- Pink Slip, by Rita Cerisi

- The Dive from Clausen's Pier, by Ann Packer

General Reading:

- Running with Scissors, by Augusten Burroughs (to be followed by Dry and Wolf at the Table)

- A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, by Donald Miller

- A Year in the Merde, by Stephen Clarke

- Once a Runner, by John L. Parker Jr.

Happy Summer. Happy Reading.

TAG! You're it.

I'm working out at the gym the other day and basically counting the seconds (which feel like minutes) until I can get off the eliptical machine. When I finally do reach the 30min mark and head to clean the machine, I look around. What I see is not pleasant. A room full of overheated middle-aged people still agonizingly doing their counting. Not much in the way of Olympic aspirations or body-building competitions.

What are we doing? Oh the depression.

It occurred to me in that moment, that wouldn't it be better if we all just played a big game of tag? Like we did when we were kids, running through the neighborhoods, between each other's backyards. I remember running and biking and skipping and jumping. I know that dodge ball is making a real name for itself these days with adult leagues and here's my theory why - it's fun. It's fun that happens to incorporate exercise. Not exercise that might have a little fun in it (read: step aerobics).

So I ask why do we have to stop doing the fun things? Why can't we go meet up on Saturday mornings for sessions of red rover, red light/green light, and my personal favorite TV tag? I would definitely set my alarm on a weekend for that.

Books

I haven't written much lately but I've been thinking a lot about books. Books that I've read at different times in my life, what they meant to me; books that I'm reading right now and the things they make me think about; books that I've tried to read but haven't been able to get through for one reason or another.

I'll share my stories if you share yours. What books have you read, tried to read, loved, or hated? Lay it on me.

To get us started ...

The first book I ever remember reading and being completely engrossed in was none other than the Babysitter's Club Super Special #8: Boy-Crazy Stacey written by none other than Ann M. Martin. Thank you Ann. I checked that book out from the Edward D. Neill Elementary School library as many times as I possibly could, reading and re-reading Stacey's and Mary Anne's summer at the Jersey Shore as nannies. (Somehow they never met anyone named Snookie or The Situation)

I know it wasn't Tolstoy or even Hemingway, but I'll tell you what - Ms. Martin sure makes an ice cream at the Howard Johnson's seem like the world's greatest idea to a 4th-grader. That's just solid writing, plain and simple.

More importantly, though, it showed me the magical worlds created in my mind through reading. And for those of you who know me well, you know my mind does some magically creative things. (Which is why I can't watch scary movies - Michelle can vouch for me on that as she had to be in the same room with me when I saw Disturbia. I think I had to stay over at her house that night.)

So, that's my book. The buck is officially passed to you.

Commitment. What do you think?

The other day my mom told me that her pastor recently mentioned only 40% of Americans claim they go to church. Which is a dwindling number, meaning there is an exodus of people either going to church, or claiming to go church. Maybe both.

She asked me what I thought about that and instead of reacting to the lack of religious conviction, my mind was automatically drawn to the fact that, lately, I've noticed there's a lack of commitment to a lot of things. In fact, just about everything.

Religion or no religion, I think you can see it in secular arenas too - Lions Clubs, Jaycees, and others face lacking participation; notably, marriages fall by dozens (some may view this as religious, I know). But, my comment in the moment of this question was, "Look at cell phone contracts. People can't even commit to those. They want everything like it is at Burger King. They want it their way, every day."

I really see it as an issue of selfishness. It's a lack of ability to commit because one is too selfish to give up doing whatever they want to, whenever they want to. Acting in any way that seems pleasing in the moment, justifying whatever they do as right because they say so. There may be plenty of people who, when they learn about a particular issue, could be compelled to commit. But when/if that means they need to change their lifestyles, pay attention to the things they do and say to be responsible or culpable for them, or to even to just go and rededicate themselves and learn more once each week, that's just too much.

Commitment is about being selfless, at least in many ways. A person has to say they are giving themselves to something, someone, a cause or whatever, and living within the boundaries that result is ok because they are all in.

When was the last time you saw someone do that?

The Devil May Not Actually Be In the Details

I used to hear this saying a lot, that the devil was in the details. I've always taken it to mean that flaws or red flags can live deep within the fine print. A person should be very thorough, considering multiple possibilities or scenarios, one should make sure all the details are understood and clearly play the role they need to. It can be tedious, time-consuming work, but that's what's supposed to save the day and ensure success, right? Right?

I'd like to somewhat debunk that theory.

Yes, the devil can be in those details and those details can be what bring a you down. But all the same, details really aren't that important if the big structure isn't sound.

Lately I've noticed an inordinate number of instances where heaps of effort were put into the details of a project, but little to no thought was put into the big picture. Think of it like this: making a household wheelchair accessible, adding in a home theatre and a gourmet kitchen, but forgetting to concern yourself with finished walls and a good roof. The details were incredible, but the fact that you were building a house was totally lost.

The funny thing with situations like this is all that time and effort in the details wears people down and makes them feel very busy. Meanwhile, the fact that the big picture is overlooked makes those who need it frustrated. Those people ask for improvements to the big picture but the people stuck in the details are too busy to do anything about it (and have lost sight of it anyway in many cases). And so the cycle continues.

If you didn't like the house example, I'll give you another one to chew on. It's like a parent spending a lot of time and money to ensure their child has the best clothing or sports equipment, or access to the best schools, but doesn't spend the time necessary to instill values, teach the child boundaries or manners. The parent was too caught up in the details of a particular lifestyle to remember that the child needed a foundation for life first.

Or, let's say you are at work and you are putting content on your website to entice new customers. In the process of doing that, you get working on this incredible map of how to get to your store - maybe you include directions from different areas of town, a standard map, and even use Google Earth with the 3D buildings function so users can really "get in the map" and find their way. This is a great tool for sure. But you spent so much time working on that you forgot to display pictures and descriptions of your products (ie: the real reason someone would be enticed to come to your store).

Overall, it's safe to say I think the devil may be in the big picture. I think that if that's solid, well planned and well executed, 9 times out of 10 the details will work themselves out for the best. That's where my money is anyway.

Check!

I did it! I checked an item off my list (see Callings from 01.13.10) and did a painting! Here is my first attempt at becoming Georgia O'Keeffe.

If everyone gets a 16x20 Christmas present next year, I'm apologizing in advance. Many of you were very kind during my foray with knitting. ...

Every Woman's Nightmare? Or, Just That of a Few Men?

Swimsuits.

It may only be early spring (or mid-winter where I am) but about a week ago I decided to start shopping for swimsuits. The demon of all demons, the bane of women's existences, swimsuits cause fear and loathing in the hearts of many. Dun dun duuunnnnn. (read: sound effect)

But I have to say that for me, while I look about as far from Gisele as does my boyfriend, swimsuit shopping doesn't bother me. I understand what I've got to work with and I know that 1/2 a yard of fabric and plastic clasp isn't going to change much. Going in with realistic expectations saves me the brutal shock and pained eyes many experience.

After digging a bit online, a thought crossed my mind. I am of a certain age and a certain body type that perhaps it's time to go the route of the one-piece. I was thinking a classy, flirty one-piece, something in a solid, richer color, perhaps with a lower neckline to keep things interesting. (no ruffle skirts or Olympic uniforms)

I really thought I was on a roll and feeling pretty proud of myself when I sent 4 options via email to the aforementioned man in my life. He swiftly responded that I must have age and/or body issues for even considering these one-piece shenanigans. "Ha! One man's opinion," I thought.

Later that week I asked a female friend if she liked one-pieces or if my idea was in left field. She got very excited that one-pieces were, in fact, adorable and she was looking for some too (she actually does resemble Gisele, so I was starting to feel back on track). Yet, only about 2 seconds into my relief, her fiance piped up in the background that one-pieces were nothing but horrible.

So I got to thinking. Are one-piece swimsuits really that ugly or are they just ugly to men? Are they like capri pants, skinny jeans, and pointy-toe shoes??? (ie: the only people who think they are sexy are the ones wearing them)

1. Is that true?

2. If so, what's a girl to do who wants to swim/tan/wakeboard/boat in something classy, flirty, comfortable, and fun?

The saga continues.

7:30am on a Monday

Some time in the near future, stop and think about someone you know but don't know all that well. Without reservation, name the type of car you think they drive. Then (without being a creeper) find out the real answer.

I tend to create images of people in my mind when I get to know them, trying to figure out who they are and what they're in to. I don't do it to stereotype anyone, I just think it's an interesting game. You can usually peg the people who drive pickups or SUVs, mini-vans, or hybrids. But, every now and again, someone will shock you.

So there I am, getting a cup of coffee just as I do every morning. On this particular day, the gentleman ahead of me happened to be a relatively famous (for ND) artist. Since no one reading this was there with me and since I will not name his name, I will let you know that he's the real deal when it comes to artists. It's what he does for a living and he's very "artisty" ... if that draws a picture in your mind. Eccentric, a little grungy, wears decorative scarves but not in a feminine way, more in a don't-want-to-get-paint-or-turpentine-down-my-shirt way. Very cool. You look at the guy and you literally think: Artist. He owns it. (In fact, he has an accent. An accent! And, I don't mean a Canadian one. To boot, I'm not sure it's even real! Yet he's cool enough to pull that off! But I digress.)

Here, then, was odd realization #1. He was at Starbucks. The stereotypes about drinking Starbucks are well known far and wide. Obviously I have no problem with them since I'm there every single day (They gave me a Christmas present one time. Shameful.). But it seemed really strange that this artist who definitely operates in a I'm-not-living-my-life-according-to-the-man way was there too.

Now that this story has gotten far too lengthy, here is odd realization #2: As I walked to my car (2-door Honda Civic) I saw him driving out of the lot. I now ask you, what is your guess for this uber cool artist person? Mine would have been an old school Toyota, a Datsun pickup, or an old Bronco - yellow with some rusty spots. Maybe a Woody, even. Kinda funky, cheap, utilitarian.

Nope. A Chevy Lumina.

Nothing is wrong with a Chevy Lumina. They are perfectly good cars driven by perfectly good people, but of all the vehicles I would have put him in, that wasn't at the top of my list. In fact, I may have put him in a Audi before a Chevy Lumina.

Blew my mind.

Then again it was 7:30am on a Monday and it wouldn't have taken much.

Let the painting begin

A few posts back I mentioned how I wanted to paint something with actual paint on an actual canvas. Lo and behold, I find myself the proud owner or oil, acrylic and water color paints, and (ta-da) a canvas.

As much as it means to me to have this opportunity, it means more to be given those items by someone who genuinely wants to see me check off some items on my bucket list.

Life's accomplishments are amazing and satisfying in and of themselves. But having a cheerleader and someone with whom to celebrate, win or lose, is so much better.

Dressing. (not the kind you put on salads or eat with turkey)

I looked in the mirror today and thought "Ugh. Gross."

Now, before you roll your eyes and think this will be some diatribe on how I think I'm ugly, hang on. I wasn't upset with my physical appearance at all. I was upset with what I was wearing (and am actually still wearing as I write this). I've always been interested and inspired by fashion, not just by what the designers do artistically but even with how functional clothing can say something about a person.

As I looked in the mirror this morning I'm not sure I liked what this outfit said about me. I know I didn't. It said: bad taste.

Most women, and I think some men, probably take risks every now and again and end up wearing something they later regret. I can accept that that's trying. Where I'm disappointed with myself this time is that my faux-pas came from not trying. It came from enough moments of putting down the really beautiful (probably expensive) item and either relying on the old standby I already had in my closet or worse, purchasing the cheaper, more poorly made version of what I wanted.

You might think here: well, that's just being budget-conscious and non-materialistic.

To that, on the one hand, I say thank you. I do not wish to go broke buying clothing I do not need, and I really don't want to be one of those people who have more clothes than the Gap Outlet. I've nearly prided myself on being minimalistic to some extents.

On the other hand, what that's done is turned me in to someone who looks hastily groomed and like they just don't quuuiiiiiiiiite get it. Gross.

Fashion may not be everything to everyone, but to me, clothes make the (wo)man. Throw some hot shoes in there and, well, sign me up.

Therefore, my pledge to myself is to figure out a way to define my preferred style, weed out the junk that makes me look like I'm still on a college budget, and start incorporating the lovely pieces I actually want to jump into every morning to take on the world.

Volunteer Brigade

Have you ever volunteered for something and then regretted it profusely? Yep. I have.

I think a person volunteers for a project or an organization for a couple reasons. First, there are the touted selfless ones - you are bettering your community, giving to those less fortunate or helping those who have a hard time helping themselves, being a part of something bigger than yourself, learning a sense of team spirit and partnership, stepping outside your own boundaries, doing something just for the satisfaction of a job well done.

However, I think there are some SELFISH reasons we volunteer. And, while I may come across as pessimistic by saying this, I think it is largely true. Here are reasons you may selfishly volunteer - you want to meet people or "network", you want to look good in the eyes of others, you want to pad your resume a bit, you want to break into a different job field, you want to keep your current skills sharp in a certain area.

Overall, I suppose, volunteering for any reason is never a bad thing because some project needs to get accomplished and by volunteering, you help accomplish it. Nonetheless, I think it is the projects for which we selfishly apply ourselves that we easily burn out.

I'm guessing this is what happened to me.

Even though volunteering can be good no matter what, the problem with doing so for selfish reasons is that the altruistic spirit you need isn't there to keep you going through the hours, nights, weekends, etc, of the project. When it's selfish, as the going gets tough, the weak just want to stay home. When you are doing it for your own gain, not for the benefit of the project it's a lot easier to back out once you've gotten what you came for or when you can see you aren't getting the results you wanted. Then, no one wins. You've now irritated yourself with this self-imposed "obligation" (that's a great word in and of itself isn't it?), if you do participate chances are it's done so with guilt not with zeal, and finally, the project is always on the teetering verge of incompletion (or worse yet, failure) because your heart isn't in it.

It'll get you every time. I think one of the biggest lessons I've learned in this is I fair much better volunteering for things that are short-lived. A one day event, etc. Long-term volunteer situations and I aren't not meant to be together.

Perhaps that means I'm too selfish.

Thanks Ingrid

If you were falling, then I would catch you
You need a light, I'd find a match

Cuz I love the way you say good morning
And you take me the way I am

If you are chilly, here take my sweater
Your head is aching; I'll make it better

Cuz I love the way you call me baby
And you take me the way I am

I'd buy you Rogaine when you start losing all your hair
Sew on patches to all you tear

Cuz I love you more than I could ever promise
And you take me the way I am
You take me the way I am
You take me the way I am

--Ingrid Michaelson

Spare Time

Alright already. There are a few things I've got on my ol bucket list that I really should have accomplished by now but have not. These are not things critical to existence, none of which involve great physical taxing or the rare opportunity to stare death in the face. Regardless, these are things I should do and can do and hereby pledge to do in my 30th year:

1. Paint a painting on an actual canvas with oil-based paints and nice brushes.

2. Brush up on my French that I earned a college degree in and haven't used since so I can actually go use it.

3. Travel to Salt Lake City and see my sister.

4. Submit an article inquiry to a major magazine.

It might not sound like much of an ambition to accomplish these four things, but to each their own. Without pointing out your goals, realistic or otherwise, it's far to easy to succumb to the rigors of everyday life and worrying about what to make for dinner rather than the direction you'd like to take your life. And, even though these things seem simple, they add up to greater goals: becoming a significant writer/author, being fluent in a foreign language and able to travel/work aboard with that, be a better family member, and using the right side of my brain more prevalently.

So here I go. I have 10 months and counting.

Seeing the Forest Through the Trees

Continuing to think along the lines of "it's not all about you," I was recently reading a book that spoke more eloquently to this point. The book is written by a Christian author - not the sort that tells you to do this or that and life will be blissful. Donald Miller isn't always sure about Christianity or about how to live his own life outside taking the easy route. In his book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, there are a few passages I dog-earred in order to reference later. He talks about writing a good story, specifically the kind that makes an epic movie. And, he works through how that can help a person write a good story for his life. He's not talking about taking over Scotland or returning the ring to the center of the earth. He just talks about getting off the couch everyday and doing something memorable (even if it's simple) to live a good story.

In it he writes ..."I felt the way I hope God feels as he writes the world, sitting over the planets and placing tiny people into tiny wombs. If I have a hope it's that God sat over the dark nothing and wrote you and me, specifically, into the story, and put us in with the sunset and the rainstorm as though to say, Enjoy your place in my story. The beauty of it means you matter, and you can create within it even as I have created you."

Much later he writes that someone once pointed out to him that in life, you need to be able to see the forest through the trees. That we, as individuals, are the trees and that what is going on in a bigger sense is the forest. We need to remember that. He also notes that what makes a story truly epic is one has to overcome conflict, and sacrifice everything to do so.

Miller writes, "The oldest book of the Bible is supposedly the book of Job. It is a book about suffering, and it reads as though God is saying to the world, Before we get started, there's this one thing I have to tell you. Things are going to get bad. ... God doesn't explain pain philosophically or even list its benefits. God says to Job, Job, I know what I am doing, and this whole thing isn't about you."

And that, right there, is what I think is the most important. It isn't about you.

I discussed that point with my dad one morning while waiting in line at Starbucks. I'm one of those annoying people who talks on my cell phone when I probably shouldn't (must work on that). Regardless, I told him that I always appreciated how forthcoming he was that life isn't fair and there is never any guarantee that it is supposed to be. His quick response was that things weren't even fair in our household, nor were they ever meant to be. He's right. We kids were treated as individuals and privileges granted to one weren't granted to all, just like experiences had by one weren't had by all.

I think this may be one of the guiding principles of my life - that it's up to us as individual people to make things happen for ourselves and it's up to us as individuals to deal with what we are dealt. It doesn't matter what anyone else has been dealt - whether that's better or worse - we are all a part of something bigger than ourselves and we each have our own roles to play within that. And, that overcoming conflict and sacrificing to do so paint the most beautiful stories for our lives. Why would we ever want to pass on that opportunity?

Caution: No One Owes You Anything

A lot of times when reading news articles, overhearing conversations or seeing things on television, I notice there is a campaign going on against personal responsibility. To me, personal responsibility is the notion that you make it or break it on your own. Your actions, your thoughts, your achievements and your failures belong to you. No one else. Obviously other people and other circumstances affect you, but your reaction to those things is entirely within your control. Therefore, others are most likely not at all responsible for your situation in life. Not whatsoever.

But like I said, there seems to be a revolt against this idea. Some examples include the following:
McDonald’s freak out

I can see how it can be “easier” to blame someone else for what’s wrong in your life or for why something happened/didn’t happen. But if you blame someone else and forget the next step of “what could be done to make this better” or “how can I prevent this from happening again” or “is this really that big of a deal that I need to get upset” then you give all the power and control in your life to others.

And, you become just some random pinball bouncing around at others’ whims.

You allow yourself to have no say in whether or not you have a good day, whether or not you reach a goal, whether or not parts of your life come together as you wish. Why would you constantly put the ball in someone else’s court?

Not to advocate control freaks, but on a limited scale, they have something going for them. They have personal responsibility. If they want something, they make it happen by hook or by crook.

But if over-exercised, control freaks can end up in the same boat as those with no personal responsibility in two ways:
1. If something doesn’t go according to plan, then a consummate control freak may believe that it must not have been their fault. Everything they control goes perfectly, so if something is bad then someone else must be at the root of that problem.

2. By extending their controlling nature onto others, they create those who do not know how to control anything. See: micromanagers in the workplace and helicopter parents (lengthy, but great article: Nation of Wimps)

If there were a guidebook to life, I’m pretty sure there would be a warning printed in red, bold letters on the opening page stating: CAUTION – NO ONE OWES YOU ANYTHING AND THERE IS NO GUARANTEE YOU WILL YOU WILL FIND PEACE, HAPPINESS, LOVE, MONEY, OR ANYTHING ELSE YOU THINK YOU “NEED”. DEAL WITH IT.

From there, we would read the pages about guarding our hearts, taking risks, avoiding mob-mentality or group-think, giving our minds and bodies something to do each day, and probably something about remembering to stop and smell the roses. (Perhaps this sounds like the Bible to some of you … perhaps not to others.)

I just think that at the end of the day, if we do not take responsibility for our own actions, regardless of the circumstances around us, then why are we each here at all? We aren’t puppets in others peoples’ shows. We are the leading ladies and men of our own lives. We are not the wingmen or the best friends. It takes some gumption but why is that a bad thing?

Callings

Traveling the world. This is something I've wanted to do for a long time, maybe as long as I can remember. It's not like the kind of desire one gets where some dream goes on list of things to do before one turns 50 (and then in the 11th month of the 49th year you freak about because you've only done 2 of your 20 items). It's more like a calling. Something that has chosen me more than the other way around. And no matter what, it will always be there. I can't say I'm an expert when it comes to callings, or that I've had a lot of callings in my life. The few I've had and pursued, though, have been completely fulfilling. So far these include:
1. Being a dancer. This was a non-negotiable point for me when I was younger. Dancing wasn't what I did, it was a part of who I was.
2. Learning French. There is absolutely no reason I should have been tapped to learn French vs learning Spanish (practical), Chinese (very desirable in business), or Russian (the hardest). But for whatever reason, French was it for me. It was it way before it became one of my college majors, and even before I took my first class at Nicollet Jr High. I just remember knowing somewhere in the back of my mind that I already knew the language, it was just a matter of retrieving the information from somewhere inside my brain.
3. Writing. I like to think of myself as a jack of many trades but an expert at none. Except maybe writing. And here's why I think that's possible - in writing, at least the writing I've done - I've written about people. I've been allowed inside the minds and daily activities of many types of individuals, so I've gotten to experience the life of a rock musician, a judge, an engineer, a surgeon, an opera singer, a businessman, a retiree, a student, a traveler, a parent, the list is endless. I've become an expert at writing about people who experience things as experts. I don't have to know as much as they do to take a peek inside their world and report it back to the masses. And, to boot, I've always loved words - their sounds, the way they look, the way they pair with their fellow words on a piece of paper or on the computer screen. The way a person is able to say the exact same thing in two different ways and inevitably give off many different meanings. Words give weight to the things we think and see and feel.
4. And finally, back to traveling. I've done my fair share throughout the U.S. (25 states + DC), and a little bit in Europe (England, Scotland, France, Ireland), but I can't say that's satisfied me. Maybe it has to do with growing up as an airline kid, but I have always this urge to go. Go become absorbed somewhere and get caught up in an entirely different way of living. I don't know exactly what that means - if I traveled for a summer would that do it? Do I need to put down roots somewhere else for a while or just travel there frequently for work or pleasure? I can't say as I can see the whole picture yet but it will hang over me until I take action.

And that is probably the most annoying and fantastic things about callings: They won't let go of you. No matter how inconvenient, poorly timed, expensive, demanding, or offbeat they may be, it's what you're meant to do. Continuing to swim upstream against it will only wear out your arms.

Yet, the older I get the easier it is to find road blocks. Money, time, careers, family, other life goals, or even age. The older you get, aren't things supposed to be clearer - you know, "you'll understand when you're older"? So why then do we resist things like our callings the older we get?

Lately, I've been reading some words by Don Miller, who wonders if God wrote us all like a story. Well, if we are all the leading men or ladies in our own stories, then we need goals and we need to overcome conflict to achieve those goals in order to be compelling. If our story is going to be the type of story that gets made into a movie.

So maybe these callings are like God's way of showing us what our story could be; and that even though throughout our lives we build safe cocoons that can be enticing to stay within, once we overcome our fears and struggle a little to break free, we will all be butterflies. Beautiful and mobile and certainly something of wonder.

Maybe.

Bananas and other metaphors

Why are things that are crazy called "bananas"? Bananas are not crazy - they are fruit from trees, which is an incredibly common, normal concept. If they were as crazy as we infer, then they would surely not be $0.48/lb at the grocery. They would be $1.98 like all the fancy cross-pollinated apples coming out of the U of M's ag program. Or like star fruit.

And I lied in the title. There are no other metaphors today. Maybe tomorrow.