writes

I was staring at my handwriting today while trying to concentrate on work, and I noticed something strange. My words slant all different ways. One word goes left, the other right, one is pretty much straight up and down. Sometimes all words on one line are the same way, and then the next line each word is a little different. Numbers in sequence are first curvy, then straight. I cross one seven but not another a few rows down.

What does this say about my personality? Take that, Criminal Minds.

iPod touch hate

I do not own an iPod touch. I do not like thier tagline. I do not want one. While these three things seem like a child's disconnected statements, for me they are completely rational; the first two conditions leading to the logical third conclusion.


I LOVE ADVERTISING. This does not mean that I am awed or affected by all the glitz and glamour, ingenuity, or cleverness. For the most part marketing does not work on me. However, I get excited about brilliant advertising. I recognize the brilliance in the subtle persuasion, and for the very fact that they have a brilliant ad*, I will often buy the product. Call it a hats off to the marketing director. Some of my favorites:


Kaiser (even though her voice gets annoying, the idea is perfect)
Skittles Taste the Rainbow so needs to be revived
Chevrolet (like a rock)
Chanel
Apple

Ah, Apple. For some time now you have been the leader. Even though I don't always believe in the public humiliation of the PC, you've been able to do it with as much tact as is possible. And the beauty in your simplicity is hard to beat, as are those bright colors. But SERIOUSLY? "the funnest iPod ever"? I say funnest in conversation. I may even write in on occasion. But here, you're trying too hard. Possibly to appeal to the younger generation, which is what's wrong with so many advertising campaigns. And the beauty of the Apple adverts is that you look like your product is so good that you don't need to try too hard. Disappointment comes easily. I thought you would last. It'll take an even-better-than-before new gig for Apple to retain it's first place in Beth's Advertising Book.


Plus I don't really think a single breakable screen/buttons/etc wandering around in my purse and being dropped all the time is a good idea for me. But you know. I love to talk about advertising. And touch is just such a weird word. iPhone I can say. But really, do you go about saying "my iPod touch" (too long and pompous) or "my touch" (too Michael Jackson) or "my iPod" (if you can't flaunt it, why pay**)? The indecision would kill me.


*Print is my favorite. It's the hardest to do, as it only assaults one already over-stimulated sense, so you have to be good to pull it off.

**hear the sarcasm

Sodaista?

So you know how everyone has their favorite barista? The one that knows their order, gives them extra shots sometimes, maybe flirts with them a bit each morning? Yeah, I totally have a favorite Sonic guy. Sonic has nasty greasy food but makes the BEST SODAS EVER. And since I am a diet coke addict, and soda is my coffee, I thought it only fitting that I have a sodaista. Except, he picked me. He knows my order, comments on how I'm always reading something (it's true), and is just charming in general. I won't say which Sonic he's at, since there are three that I frequent, because I don't want him to know he's my favorite sodaista but mostly because I don't want to share. Because that's the thing about baristas and sodaistas, they make you feel special. If only for five minutes each day, it's entirely worth it. If Sonic didn't have my loyalty before the sodaista, they sure do now.

pACE

NOT THE PICANTE SAUCE.

Pace is important. I've never been good at it. I'm a sprinter. I hike in spurts, weaving along the trails. On the treadmill I have to hold on so I can run in the straight line necessary to not fall off and provide mass entertainment for others at the gym. I think they should give really clumsy people major discounts at the gym for providing that type of service (entertainment) to the other customers. It could even be an advertisment - "see the clumsy people". Ahem, back to the original topic.

Lately my pace of life has seemed a bit... fast. And spastic. Feels like I'm headed in all directions. If it was me giving the advice, I'd say, focus on one or two things, and do those well. It's kind of my life philosophy. The problem is, the things that I feel like I have to do, those I don't want to focus on. Like my full-time job. My family. Even friends sometimes (let's be honest).

The thing is, I'm doing pretty much everything on my list. It's just that each of those things are adding up to a lot more than I was thinking. Except I haven't moved yet, which I'm shooting for November first, but I can't see how that will completely turn things around. It will help a lot, I know. But other things still have got to change.

And it's September. One of my favorite months, I think. The weather's starting to cool down here (in the 80's - my perfect temp); people slow down, get more organized, and settle in; I can wear long sleeves outside and make all kinds of hot soups; it's my birthday month; the Fair happens. Cheesiness, but it's the time of year I would want to fall in love. Winter my skin's too dry and spring and summer? I question if it's really real. Or perhaps I'm just influenced by Sugarland's Hello. This is probably why I feel the most lonely in the early fall months. Same thing happened last fall. I hate being in a funk in September. And now I feel like even this post is spastic. ick.

A Better Woman

"She makes me want to be a better man."

I hear this term often, from guys, from boys, from girls relating what their guys have said to them. And it's true. The right woman should make a man want to be more man, a better man, to excel and do his best. Not that I'm going all Wild at Heart here, mind you, because while that book has a couple of good points I believe it distracts somewhat from truth. But this basic principle holds. Eve was Adam's support (men will say "helper"). In all her beauty, as the crowning glory of all creation, she was there to help Adam be a better man, and to glorify God in her own right. It's a reason to support each other; in a perfect world, men and women of the kingdom will help each other both become fully ourselves (who we've been created to be) and to fully glorify God.

We, women, all have this desire rooted in us, to help men become better men. It is the delivery that has become perverted. We sit up straighter, we do ourselves up, we nag, we hold on too tight. Obviously we get somehow that beauty is one of the things that spur men to become better men, but what kind of beauty? I think Eve was probably the most beautiful woman this earth has ever seen, wild and calming and striking and like home all at the same time. But the Bible never once notes her physical beauty.

And, in the end, I believe we try too hard to become beautiful by our relation to men, as that is what is ingrained in us. Perhaps this is a perversion as well? We are not beautiful only in relation to men, but are able to support men because we are already beautiful. We fail to realize that, most likely, what made Eve the most beautiful was her relation to God as the creator of all beauty as well as all strength. It is only in regaining this lost relation that we become more and more beautiful.

Men, it is not only the delivery that has been perverted but the reception as well. What kind of beauty spurs you to become better men? How often do I meet a man that makes me want to be a better woman?

Tidbits

Within two hours:
Rick walks in yelling “we are the champions” at the top of his lungs
Ralph walks around singing the “bad boys” cops theme song in his Spanish accent.


Eavesdropping - did he just say “slicker than snot”?


The higher-ups, they call themselves commander, chief and captain. And they use these terms regularly.

a GREAT day

Mornin’, Pete.

Mornin’, beautiful girl. How you doing today?

Today? I’m just fine, Pete, thanks for asking. You?

Oh, great, great. Really great, actually. MmmHmmm. Yeah, I’d tell you but I wouldn’t want to embarrass you. HA HA HA HA HA HA.

I wish all my workdays didn't start out with something similar, but, um, they do.

The Things that Annoy Me

I am not a person who is easily annoyed. This is fact, because if you knew my brother (king of the annoyed men), you would see that I, in comparison, rarely have to roll my eyes, heave a huge sigh, or take potshots at people from my head (otherwise known as expletives that don't get out). But when I do, these are the worthy things that will cause such odd behaviour:

1. People who don't use turn/merge lanes. The turn lane is not a lane that you cross when you turn, fellow California drivers, it is a lane that you get into, as in the whole car, before turning.

2. The fact that, every little once in a while, I still miss the presence of someone who is no longer here. This miss doesn't last long; it's more like a 10-second shortness of breath when I feel like I'm missing a ghost limb. Or maybe I just have panic attacks. STILL. This should not be happening anymore. Ever.

3. Service people who make jokes. I'm aware that they've had the same "hi, how's it going," conversation a million times that day, but really, it comes with the job. Why is it that they choose me to experiment on with new material? Does my face shout, "I will laugh at your jokes! I will be your best friend!"? No. It does not. I need to practice my Skapes face.

4. Being asked if I am in college. Or called a "college kid". I AM NOT IN COLLEGE. Even if you have no other category in which to put me, a single, young professional adult, just don't call me anything. My name will suffice.

5. Picking up a super-cute, nicely-cut perfect-color shirt just to find out that it's so thin even my skin-colored bra will show through. Which would require me to layer. And as we all know, I HATE TO LAYER.

6. The use of unnecessary abbreviations. Who in real life says "ep" for an episode of television? Even "pic" is a little too much for me. I can't handle it.

Typical Office Conversation

Me:

Sheri, here’s some checks for you to pull.

Sheri:

Checks, checks, checky-poos.

Sheri:

HEY!!! Glasses today!

Me:

Yep.

Sheri:

We match! Hey Steve, we’re both wearing glasses! AND black shirts! It’s a matchy-day! Too bad you’re not wearing black.

Steve:

I’m wearing black underwear, does that count?

MyHeritage: Family trees - Genealogy - Celebrities
HEY. I am not one of those celebrity freaks, but you know you always wonder... Now I KNOW. My long lost twin is the Queen of Salsa.

Cruisin'

I realized the other day, when driving around town, that pretty much everyone has some semblance of cool while they are driving a vehicle. I think it's the power. You can't be not cool when you are in control of a few thousand pounds of metal. Many people may argue about this, but I hold true to my point.

I realized this because of the way I was comfortably sitting (left foot up, right hand slung across the passenger seat) and the looks that I got from various other drivers (still in the pump district here, with a 10:1 man:woman ratio). I thought, I am not cool. Yet I must have something for people to be looking at me so much.* So I started to check out the other people driving cars.

I wonder if that girl has good style? But really, she's probably one of those semi-clean-cut wannabe type myspace stalkers. If that guy got out of his car and walked toward me, I'd run the other way. But I'd probably do the cheesy wave just cause his car is idling next to mine. Even the clunker-drivers have that geeky-cool thing, especially with the green revolution hitting(smash,smash) our state. On that note, all the geeky or sensible cars seem cooler because they are either economical or help the environs. ha. I wonder if the greenies factored in the coolness? Maybe more people will buy and drive cars now because it's just so cool to drive a geeky/greenie car. That would kind of even out the carbon footprint, eh? So much for that idea.

Ugh, no wonder all my Big Kids can't wait to drive. It really does make you cool. At least until you get out of the car. THIS is why we don't go cruisin' down Chester Avenue anymore. When they're driving, you just can't tell who's a keeper or a kreeper.




*Yep, I checked. No drink on the roof, nothing bright red or purple sticking out, hair in it's normal flat state.

Layering, Schmayering

In many things I am definitely a child of the 90's. The late 80's to the mid 90's, to be exact. As evidenced by mine and Holly's longer-than-you-would-think convo last night about boy/girl hotwheels/barbie happy meals at McD's back in the day (you know you want those days back too). But there is one major way in which I do not conform: Layering. I hate to layer. HATE. As in will not buy a shirt that I LOVE just because it will require layering.


Fashion people make it sound so simple, like it solves all of their problems. Attn: Fashion People: LAYERING CREATES MY PROBLEMS. And this is not coming from my non-conformist attitude toward trends in fashion. It is purely a comfort thing. And an I-know-what-looks-good-on-me-and-bunchy-clothes-do-not thing. It may have a slight something to do with my body type. Curves just don't give themselves over to layering. Sometimes I wonder how they give themselves over to clothes at all.


This creates an issue while shopping. I wear black, because I have not found a white shirt in about five years that I would not have to wear an undershirt with. That's the real reason I mostly wear dark colors. No layering required. I feel, often, left out of the loop because most cute clothes assume that I love to layer like the rest of my generation. So I wear boring, basic clothing. Which is probably good for me. There is only one positive aspect to not layering, and that will only go into full effect when Beth gets that train over that hill (she still thinks she can).

Work.

Has anyone else fallen asleep sitting on the toilet at work? No? Ok, just me then. It's never actually happened (for more than a couple minutes), but if I close my eyes for a few seconds... I mean, I even try not to go to the bathroom for the first couple of hours because that's when I'm still sleepy...

ALSO, whoever said that extreme air conditioning makes for alert, awake employees has never sat in my office. There's a reason people fall asleep before they freeze to death.

Should I stay or should I go now...

I believe I'll stay for a while, here in Bakersfield. Doing youth ministry at Calvary. It's what God wants of me, it's pretty clear. I've decided, and I have peace. The deep-seated kind, the kind that doesn't make me stress anymore. Still waiting for the joy to come around, though... maybe I should pray for it? That'd probably be a good idea. I am so thankful that I get to spend more time with the incredible young women that I love so much to work with and talk about Jesus with. And that I get to meet new ones. It's just... the living here is a challenge at times. Here where there isn't a lot of new things. Of city-wide parties, of farmers markets, of outdoor concerts, of ethnic food, of shorelines and hikes and green grass. But maybe... maybe I would be caught up in those things. Here where there's nothing else I like means I focus all my time, energy, and brain on the one thing that I love doing here. Because really? I don't want to be standing in a flower market, alone, or on a train in some random country when Christ comes back. I want to be discipling his church. To be in the process of being discipled. Drinking the deep water.

So, decision made, ready to roll, I of course break out my list-making skills. Because I know the fact that I haven't had time to pluck my eyebrows or get more than six hours sleep ever has got to change if it means I'm going to continue to live here. Since not many read my blog, I'll get personal here and let those who do read in on my lists:

Fact: I do not have enough time. Or energy.

Things that are important to me:

Jesus time

my big kids

my family

community/friends

sleep/exercise/eating right

Possible Solutions:

live alone

live closer to my job/ministry

don't hit snooze in the mornings

say no more. I used to be so good at it.

eventually find a less-hours job I can live off of

put time into specific people (like make a list), dang it.

That's all for now folks. I do value opinions, by the way. Happy Sunday.

The weekend in Redding was, well, amazing.

In spite of all the blindness I experienced the last two days. It made Heidi laugh, so I guess there was some worth to it. My eye swelled up in some sort of allergic reaction and there was much pain. And I couldn't see. Sarah had to lead me around townh I wore my sunglasses inside. I had to stay an extra day. And what's really weird is I'm not usually a drama queen, but somehow I have the urge to tell everyone I see in dramatic detail about this significant event. Maybe I would be a drama queen if more things like that actually happened to me. The saddest part was that it was gorgeous weather the last two days. Perfect park or lay out by the lake days. And I couldn't even see them. sigh.


Other than that, it was a great weekend. Sarah and I talked A LOT about real things, which was amazing. And made fun of the 3 incredibly strange conversations I had with service people at the grocery store, dinner, and the pizza guy. I realized when I shop I talk to the clothes and shoes. "you're so pretty." "too bad you're too tall for me." "shirt, you remind me of a vampire and I love you." ACK! Though I wear much black, I do not have vampy style.


It was good to be in real community. And to worship at the Stirring, an amazing community of believers.


PS - it has to be noted that despite our goal to take lots of cute pictures, these are the only ones I ended up with on the camera (well, this is about half of them). Maybe I'm a little narcissistic? But really, I was alone and trying to kill ten minutes before church. Duh, what would you do? Oh, right. Get the heart ready to worship.

Next time, Sarah, next time.

Summer Fun

This video gives a small glimpse of what my extended family's annual beach trips are like. My two cousins, sister and I were out for a walk in cute Cambria where they do things like name their houses. These houses line the shore. This house is named the Wave House. So, naturally, we waved. And I think this video also aptly demonstrates why Kati should be president of the Kreeper Klan and not my Aunt Terri. Turn up the volume. It's the fact that we're laughing so hard at this that makes me love my family so much.

The Sleepover

Recently, before all the young ones went back to shkool (Adam Sandler, can it really be said without reference to Billy Madison?), we had a sleepover for all the high school girls in the youth group that I work with. My great friend Naphtali joined us for the evening as she was in town and I convinced her it would be fun. And you know what? About halfway through the night I found myself thinking how much better high school is the second time around. But I digress. I must include a general schedule of the evening along with photos of the fun, because let me tell you, IT WAS FUN.


7:30-8:30pm: Fun girly music, giant coloring books, those cool big blowup bouncy balls with the rubber bands, a little nail-painting, a little friendship bracelet-making. And snacks.


8:30-9:30pm: Break out the bubble machine. Break out the flashing hula-hoops. Break out the techno music. Break out the strobe lights. Turn off the lights. And wait for it, wait for it, BREAK OUT THE GLOWSTICKS. And, logically, breakopen the glowsticks and slash them
all over your clothing 'til you glow like a neon fish. Commence dancing like a maniac along with twenty five other females. Include conga line. Who ever said alcohol was necessary to have a good time has certainly never tried this. Works every time.


9:30-10:30pm: Take the glowsticks out to the park and jump on a giant slip-n-slide in the dark. Go back inside for pazookie, which they all seem to be crazy about.


10:30-11:59pm: More serious nail painting, major make-up doing (no matter what anyone else says, Page's makeup looked GOOD and I did not make her look like a hooker), and then the appearance of Melissa who was gracious enough to coax everyone's hair into fantastic do's with fun temp hair colors. No one looked even remotely like the cookie monster. Tastefully done, Melissa, tastefully done.



12:00-01:30am: Watch Goofy Movie on a giant screen. That's right.


01:30-03:00am: Olivia and I make a little trip downstairs to the bathroom which is in the gym (read: middle of the night in a dark cavernous space). La-de-dah, talking, peeing, la-de-dah, open the door, PERSON STANDING RIGHT THERE IN CLOWN MASK AND BLACK CLOTHING. Definitely a Scream Movie type moment. Except (HA!) person forgot it was Olivia and Beth he was scaring, who don't scream but just stand there, holding our breath, until he runs away and is immediately recognized as high school boy #1. We run outside and see high school boy #s 2-5 join him in flight. Run suckers run. Enter captain Julie who leads high school girls in fast pursuit with (of course prepared) ammunition of water balloons and super-soakers. High school boy #s 1-5, high school youth pastor, and husband (read: momentary enemy) of captain Julie run far away, never to return.


8:30-9:00am: Gentle loud music floats over twenty passed-out people, one of which looks at her phone and mumbles oh crap before literally grabbing her purse and stumbling out the door, forgetting all of
her belongings. Fortunately the music was too loud to hear her fall down the stairs (jk, jk Shelby).


All in all it was a super-sleepover and we must do it again.