Rearview

I wrote this poem last summer sometime, wondering in my head about (what else?) guys. Silly little ditty. Why I never posted it. But now, looking back, I have answers to all three. A couple I wish I had known then, but none I felt I really could or would have handled differently. Noted for your perusal.

I notice you when
you notice me but
is that all it will ever be?

It WILL be more, a very good more, but it has an end.

Too old or too young
Can’t there
be one in between?

THIS is only trouble, & enough stress to make an ulcer cry.

I would be, if He
would be. But he won’t ever be.
I’m so over this.

He WON"T ever be, and? It is good. Very good. Get over it is right.

SAYING NO

I used to be really good at it. But it seems I can’t anymore. It's probably why I never have time to blog here. I can’t say no to hang-out times, or lunch I shouldn’t be going to. I can’t say no to invites that will make me spend money in one way or another. I can’t say no to myself.

A big part of saying no, for me, is giving people other options. Letting them know I care, or still want to see them, but a different time/place/activity/group would work better for me. I can’t seem to ask other people to do things that are perfectly fine to ask. Like put a time limit on evenings I have people over to my house. I hate putting time limits on people. Or to join a group of us for dinner. I now have something that lasts at least two hours, most more, four nights a week. Then add in all the person-person time. That is crazy.

I guess I feel selfish. A lot of it comes with my situation in life. I’m not the one with the kids, so of course I’ll drive farther, or hang out at odd times. I’m the big sister to a lot of girls, who have more hours to spend than I do, less money (technically) to spend than I do, etc. I like to do fun things. But seriously? I am a single woman, which means I have to work full time and do ministry and keep up my home on top of that. My life is challenging too.

It stresses me out to not be home. Because my house is messy, and because my life is messy. And because I’m really, really trying to pay down my debt, and not being at home ever means I spend more money. More money eating out because I don’t have time to prep food, more money on gas, more money on convenience, more money on, yes, late fees. It stresses me out to stay out late and not get enough sleep. I work less productively, spend more money on caffeine, make poorer decisions, and am grumpier.

I’m thinkin if I’m in a better place with all this and more rested I’ll be more interactive with people when I am with them as well. I am a maximizer. It’s hard to maximize when you feel like there’s nothing left. I don't want to complain about it or lash out verbally out of stress. If I am going to avoid becoming a hermit for a year (we’re talking worse than Dani) (I am dangerously close), I have to start saying no.

I’m starting now. NO. My bed time is ten pm. If we are friends, I cannot hang out with you one-on-one for hours each week (family is my one exception). I cannot go out to eat at expensive places. Weekends are for hanging out, home cleaning and hiking. Weeknights are for dinner and talking til around nine, maybe. If I don’t text/call you back all day it’s because I’m at WORK and I’m not supposed to.

Under the Influence

I just watched Revolutionary Road. If ever there was a time to Do As Beth Does, THIS IS NOT IT. Don't watch it. It depressed me for a couple days. Basically this is the plot - we are a young, vibrant couple and our life will not look like others' do but then we get stuck in suburbia and it gets worse and then we get entrenched even more in suburbia even though we hate it and then we die. Seriously suffocating. At the end this is what went through my mind: I just bought a freakin' pastry blender. What the crap is happening to me? What was I thinking? But for reals, folks. My life will not look like that.

on the other hand...

Dear Jesus,

It would be really crazy awesome if you could make me (well, hopefully he's already made) a man like Daniel Craig's character in Defiance. Mmmm-hmmm. That loves you a whole lot. Because Daniel Craig as Tuvia Bielski + Christ follower = the man I want to marry. Like you didn't know that already. But I'm just sayin'.

On Majesty

My subtitle speaks for itself, but the thought behind it is it's own story. I've become content here, in this place God has me - not a stagnant content, and not incredibly happy, but joyful. It's taken some time, but it's been worth it.

Even in the contentedness, it felt for a while like something was missing- I just couldn't put my finger on it. Then someone said the word "majesty" and I pretty much jumped out of my chair. I've been missing the majesty. So I've tried to keep conscious of the majesty that is God whom we worship, and the way his majesty is displayed through his creation. It helps, try it. Let's not miss the majesty.

We've been reading Tozer's Knowledge of the Holy, my friends and I, and it is very good at keeping the majesty of God front and center. Consider the reason, to begin with, that we seek the majesty:

The yearning to know What cannot be known,
to comprehend the Incomprehensible,
to touch and taste the Unapproachable,
arises from the image of God in the nature of man.

Deep calleth unto deep, and though polluted and landlocked by the mighty disaster theologians call the Fall, the soul senses its origin and longs to return to its Source.

That movie everyone is talking about...

With the attractive young cast flying around in space...

I liked it a lot...

Am I the only one who automatically thought, when the drill touched down into the SF Bay, "well yeah they would drill there. It's the most logical starting point as the San Andreas Faultline goes straight through the bay and drilling between two tectonic plates would make breaking through the earth's crust a lot easier..."

Yup I do belong in the theatre watching this movie. It's quite fitting for my level of nerd.

Shoulda

Haven't got long, but a quick story - yesterday I was walking downtown through the 22nd/Myrtle area and enjoying the peace and pretty houses when a loose dog (as in got out of it's yard, not as in a loose woman) started walking with me. Second time a dog has done that in that area. I noticed it looked recently groomed and had tags and so tried to get it to come over to me. No such luck, but it kept following me for several blocks. I tried again every once in a while, and for a second had a vision of capturing the dog, knocking on it's owner's door and being greeted by a handsome single young professional man living downtown, preferably already cooking dinner. OH WAIT, this is Bakersfield -snap back to reality and continue on my walk. A couple minutes later, as the dog had gotten behind exploring a yard about a block behind me, I was turning my head to call it again when a well-dressed young man pulls up in a white suv, says "there you are, Haley," stares curiously in my direction for a second, scoops up the dog and pulls away. I kid you not. I seriously SHOULD HAVE TRIED HARDER to catch that dog. Story of my life.

here, where I am, and where I am not...

I'm not sure how to explain where I'm at right now. For a long time I was content; a little happy, even. I'm in this place, physically and ministry-wise, that I know I'm supposed to be in. It's CLEAR. For now, until I'm guided elsewhere, I need to be loving and discipling all these high school girls. My bigkids. And I truly enjoy it. I love the depth, and the mini-society that is created in the group. I love helping, and watching them grow.

Lately it's been more difficult, though. Were there just more distractions this fall? I don't really think so. But the last month or so I've been having a hard time. I think the issue arrives when I recognize that if it were up to me, I wouldn't be here. I would be living differently, I hope. I would be traveling, and in a place where I have good community, and working in a job I liked more. I would live in a city, or I would live nowhere. I would have more time to be creative. We've talked about all this, yes? I feel like there are no more life-changes I can make here in Bakersfield. I live in as cheap an apartment as I can get away with where my kids' parents still let them hang out. I'm working hard at my job and am very thankful right now that I have a job. I'm trying to create community here as much as possible. I'm as me as I can get here. Yet there is still this sense that... this isn't me. The putting on hold of my dreams and desires and the way I'd like to be living is grinding out this loss of self. I want to throw my head back and howl in the grocery store that this isn't my life. But that's the point, right? It isn't my life. I'm losing my SELF. How I define myself. Rarely anymore do I even have time to do the things I like to do. People's perceptions of me are continually off-base. I understand with more depth these days what was meant by "I become all things to all men that I might save some".

So, I'm trying to work out this dichotomy. I don't want to completely ignore who I am or my dreams. I'm pretty sure God doesn't want that either. But how do I live like this? When God so clearly confirmed (on new year's eve, actually, ironically) my place, for a moment I despaired. Am attempting to not sink into depression. I desperately need community to breathe life into me. Am now tearing up at work. Crap. I also do know that I need to spend more depth of time with Christ. He needs to breathe more life into me if I'm going to be able to go on here. And I need to let him. I don't want to resent being here, or not like it, but getting sucked in is not an option either. I am well provided for, and am circumstantially just fine. Sometimes I think those trials would be easier to deal with than this inner struggle of the mind and heart.

Somewhere it seems that I've learnt this lesson before... over. and over. and over. The loss of self must be pretty important. Must I lose all of myself? Yes, all. Idiot. I truly do want what Christ wants. I just didn't think he'd have me in whitemiddleclassamerica. Silly me. Beware, when you tell Jesus, "I'll follow you wherever you need me," that it might mean some strange things. But I guess people here need to hear about the true Christ and his way as well. Maybe even more so than others.

But still... it eats at me. If you pray, or even if you don't, pray for me. I'm not doing so hot.

In Review.

Most people I know make new year's resolutions. Well, I kind of make quarterly goals. What? I work in accounting and a lot of people I know are still in college. It makes sense to follow a quarterly schedule. And perhaps I'm unwilling to let on that my life is now measured more in years than in semesters or summers. And it IS a lot easier to achieve new year's resolutions when you are used to doing so all year round. The following are my fall goals and achievments which have sat on my desk at work for the past 3 1/2 months:

1. get skinny
halfway done
2. move out
done
3. do some serious bible study
ummmm
4. write more letters
don't think I wrote any
5. eat well
halfway done
6. improve posture
slouching as I write this
7. excel in my job
doing better even though I should be working right now...

Obviously I didn't do so well. Perhaps I should only choose three for the winter quarter? This will take some serious thought. I did decide a long time ago that I do much, much better at intangible goals (such as do better, improve, less, more) than tangible goals (percentages, amounts, 5 times a week). So I'll stick to intangibles for winter. And choose 5 maybe. Cause for reals yo, if I accomplished all my goals I'd be bored.

PS been working on a post about the latest trip to Redding. Forthcoming. Busy busy busy busy times are being had by all.

Gifts

When I was 6, a boy threw a pencil at me. Probly 'cause I threw one at him first.


When I was 13, a boy got down on one knee and sang to me.


When I was 14, a boy sang "Baby Blue" in a school concert, for me. He found out later my eyes are more green than blue.


When I was 15, a boy peed my name in the snow.


When I was 16, a boy bought me flowers.


When I was 17, a man rubbed my feet.


When I was 21, a man stared at me like he was viewing for the first time something other, and worthy of contemplation. Woman.

When I was 23, a man wrapped music in a crossword puzzle and left it in my car.

When I was 24, a man bought me peanutbuttery chocolates.

Last week, a man bought me a tank of gas.*

It's the small (and apparantly strange) gifts that get to me. Intentional. Just because. To start things off well. For the end. Any of those will work. It doesn't have to be perfect, cost money, or be exactly what I need. Because sometimes I don't even know exactly what I need.

*thanks Dad.

clothing

My new grown-up clothing rules:

do not wear clothes you silently think are funny. Except in a Saturday t-shirt capacity.

pick a couple colors and stick with them, since you can’t seem to buy outfits.

don’t buy skirts. You don’t wear them.

shoes are important. make sure you have shoes to match, or money to buy them, before buying the new clothes.

between moving, being sick, and all the other daily-ness of my life, this is about all the thinking I've been able to do over the past couple weeks. That's all for now, folks.

In Hate

10 Things I Hate About You - obviously one of my favorite movies. Playing in my head, lately, is the list that she runs down; the actual 10 Things I Hate About You poem:


I hate the way you talk to me,
and the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you drive my car,
I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dumb combat boots
and the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick,
it even makes me rhyme.
I hate the way you're always right,
I hate it when you lie.
I hate it when you make me laugh,
even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it when you're not around,
and the fact that you didn't call.
But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you-
not even close-
not even a little bit-
not even at all.

I'm a careful person when it comes to this kind of thing. I take the "guard your heart" advice fairly seriously. I don't give my heart away or spend tons of time thinking about someone who I know doesn't care for me back. Same for guys that may be a little interested in me, but I know won't work for me in the end. They may be charming and funny, but could I live the rest of my life with them? NO. It's all kind of pointless in my book, then, to lose my heart over something that has no good end. I like to see the big picture. This doesn't mean that I won't give some guys a fair chance. I will, but I'm able to see fairly quickly what it looks like on the other side. However, the few times I have seen possibility in a guy with whom I already have some semblance of a relationship (usually friendship), I tend to end up reciting the above poem. Except, because it's my life and not the movie version, I'm never sure, as Kat was, of the love (or guitars) on the other side. It's the reason for the hate. I hate it when I feel things for a guy with whom there's no guarantees; with whom I've let down a little of my guard to become friends, and ended up with the not-hating in the above referenced poem.

This happened a while back and now I'm peering around the corner, trying to see down the same road. The problem? I don't regret the last time. It's not enough to make me wall up my heart and my self and never be able to feel again. When will I learn my lesson? And what should that lesson even be? Should I just not be friends with guys? It doesn't happen with every guy I'm friends with. Should I feel the not-hate and know the gamble is worth it for the possibility? Or should I just roll through it quickly and not let it bother me as much so I can get over it faster? I'm not so sure where to go from here, and I'm not so sure why I'm like this. You'd think I'd be a little better at these things by now. huh.

Love Story

Darn you, Taylor Swift. I shake my fist at you. Just when I think I've got the me myself and I all under control, you write a song like this. It's like a trick, because at first you just roll your eyes so you let yourself listen, and by the end you're singin' along at the top of your lungs all hopeful like. Darn you again, just for good measure.

______ the Explorer

People fascinate me in all their complexity. Have for a long time.

I was talking about exploring the world earlier with a friend, and I think I've always wanted to be an explorer. As a kid, I never wanted to play house or teacher. I wanted to play swiss family robinson, or jungle adventure, or pirates on a ship. I would have been, depending on the century, a pirate or a pioneer or a conquistador or in Marco Polo's entourage. But what part of the world is left to discover? Not much is unknown. The sea, maybe, which is why I thought about being an oceanographer in third grade. Or space, which I thought about in the later part of elementary school. When people try to help me figure out what to do with my life, this is usually how the conversation goes:

What kind of things do you like to do?

I like a whole lot of different things.

What kind of things are you good at?

I'm good at a lot of things.

Well, what did you want to be when you were a little kid?

An Explorer.

Huh.

Yep.

But by the time I got to high school I pretty much decided to study other cultures or people for the rest of my life. This was my reasoning: people are the last frontier. That's how I picked my major. And people fascinate me still. The old man that power walks in swim trunks by my house. The homeless, pregnant young woman standing on the corner. The jerk in the power suit in Borders. My closest friends. The so depressed musician in the non-Starbucks coffee shop. Baby Kadence. I want to ask them all a million questions. Find out what makes them tick. Or if they have any tics. It's a curiousity that never ends. And I love it.

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.

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 Dress

I am in love with dresses. I try them on all the time. At this point I have close to ten black dresses in my closet, which is a lot because I have a limited wardrobe (on purpose) that only takes up about half my closet. But dresses are just so practical, and not at the same time. And for a simple person like me, the lack of layering necessary is a beautiful thing. All a dress requires on any given day: shoes, a sweater, and maybe some earrings.

Recently I found a summer dress I loved at Walmart (I know) and bought it in black and brown. AND THEN a pretty grey cap-sleeve* (perfect for smart black glasses and maryjanes) called my name at Target. I think the other colors are joining the chorus, because they will most likely be purchased as well. It just isn't every day you find a dress that you like and that fits and that is work-appropriate and that is affordable enough you can buy one, or even more than one, right? And you know I'm really just looking for support for my dress addiction here, right?

*see photo. And can I tell you that it really does look less mom-ish on me than it does on her? Curves do make the dress. Or break it, often actually. But they make this dress.

Confession #1

I have a confession: I have a storage shed. This is difficult for me to admit, given my aversion to storage sheds in general. In brief, I think storage sheds for people who own a house or even an apartment larger than a studio are a joke. And even if you read this and you have one, I do not feel bad for telling you this. If you have stuff you don't use more than once every couple months, you shouldn't have it. Or you just have way too much other stuff. If your storage is on your property, that's your issue and essentially an extension of your house. But if it is in a long embankment of other storage sheds and you have to use a key/pin to get in, it shouldn't be necessary. This is why it's difficult for me to come to grips with the fact that yesterday afternoon, I loaded up the family truck and took a bunch of stuff to storage. I do have a good excuse (my room is being redecorated by my landlord, ahem, mom, to the extent that there is only room for my clothes and half my books), but I still feel off kilter, and it's been over 24 hours. We'll see how I do in a week.