Lately I find myself sitting outside in God's waiting room. It is a place without prayers or pleas or noise or appointments. It's just sitting around with my hands folded in my lap or reading a magazine. Waiting for some news. Doing nothing proactive. A good friend this week had an appointment for me. She sent along a really deep, thoughtful prayer she said on my behalf. Which is good. Because I don't think I'm supposed to ask right now. I'm just supposed to sit here and drink coffee until my submissions to the inbox are reviewed.
We all say when you pray you should move your feet. These feet have taken me all over the place. High places where I was spouting rainbows and sunshine to discouraged people. Low places where my heart was shrunken, little, and timid. So I'm sitting here waiting for the next operating instructions. Being as comfortable as anyone can be in a waiting room.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
becoming an islander
The heart of a native Chicagoan still beats within as I fuel the day with coffee, check the morning news religiously, and on a good day can still work a room with as much forced charm as an introvert can muster and cheese their way through. The life of a Colorado hippie has weathered me to opt for almond milk, read instead of watch TV, and listen, swaying to acoustical wonders. But I'm also becoming a little more of an islander every month here.
I was realizing this when I spent an entire afternoon in a bikini without self-consciousness. This feat has never before been possible as I would have sucked in my stomach and folded my arms protectively around my fleshy middle. Here it's just too hot, and I can see everybody is a little imperfect. I've traded wine for iced vodka drinks, and a very nice shoe collection for flip flops always. I own a bike with a basket that has earned the status of living indoors to prevent the rust that forms almost instantly here.
Attempts at hair fixing are mostly in vain here as the humidity forms it's own curls, waves, and shapes. The Saturday plan is always lay on the beach or by the pool. The outfit is always sundress or strapless shirts. And I have found myself using the ubiquitous island phrase I think maybe... as a gentle preview to introducing opinions.
I was realizing this when I spent an entire afternoon in a bikini without self-consciousness. This feat has never before been possible as I would have sucked in my stomach and folded my arms protectively around my fleshy middle. Here it's just too hot, and I can see everybody is a little imperfect. I've traded wine for iced vodka drinks, and a very nice shoe collection for flip flops always. I own a bike with a basket that has earned the status of living indoors to prevent the rust that forms almost instantly here.
Attempts at hair fixing are mostly in vain here as the humidity forms it's own curls, waves, and shapes. The Saturday plan is always lay on the beach or by the pool. The outfit is always sundress or strapless shirts. And I have found myself using the ubiquitous island phrase I think maybe... as a gentle preview to introducing opinions.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Favorite Things
Oprah has her favorite things. I have mine. Mine are cheaper. They currently are:
Freeze dried strawberries (Thank you Lightbulb!)
Balega running socks
Neutrogena Anti-Residue Shampoo
Trish McEvoy Mascara (okay, not cheap but gifted from future sister-in-law)
Salty Dogs (vodka and grapefruit juice with salted rim)
Combos Cheddar Cheese Pretzels
Victoria's Secret Orange Sapphire Body Spray
I'm just recording this as my little time capsule. Shopping is a little more thrilling here because there's only one regular store-- the PX. Local stores are very expensive and Japanese sized clothes. This means I buy their dresses, which become mini-dresses with 3/4 sleeves.
It was a week of personal successes-- ran a flawless rifle range and performed my first air battles with my full crew, whom I now have great faith in. It was also demoralizing as my boss keeps criticizing me and NCOs don't respect me because I've been too tentative with them. I am also too old to date anyone as I was reminded when a young LT was hitting on me, friended me on facebook, and stopped texting. The wonderful thing about Army life is that people move frequently. My boss gets replaced in January. I'll start off more confidently with new NCOs. Any maybe, maybe a few officers in their 30's will land here. Fingers crossed!
Freeze dried strawberries (Thank you Lightbulb!)
Balega running socks
Neutrogena Anti-Residue Shampoo
Trish McEvoy Mascara (okay, not cheap but gifted from future sister-in-law)
Salty Dogs (vodka and grapefruit juice with salted rim)
Combos Cheddar Cheese Pretzels
Victoria's Secret Orange Sapphire Body Spray
I'm just recording this as my little time capsule. Shopping is a little more thrilling here because there's only one regular store-- the PX. Local stores are very expensive and Japanese sized clothes. This means I buy their dresses, which become mini-dresses with 3/4 sleeves.
It was a week of personal successes-- ran a flawless rifle range and performed my first air battles with my full crew, whom I now have great faith in. It was also demoralizing as my boss keeps criticizing me and NCOs don't respect me because I've been too tentative with them. I am also too old to date anyone as I was reminded when a young LT was hitting on me, friended me on facebook, and stopped texting. The wonderful thing about Army life is that people move frequently. My boss gets replaced in January. I'll start off more confidently with new NCOs. Any maybe, maybe a few officers in their 30's will land here. Fingers crossed!
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
God's Inbox
The 2 gift items I get repeatedly and struggle to use are journals and white wine. I seem to remind people of these things, and I intend to put them to good use. Unfortunatey. I don't have a bent towards neatness or high organization. Journals get written in once, my ideas go down on the back of library book receipts, and clutter builds that results in journals getting tossed. And that sweet white wine that tastes like melted lollipop gets served to guests while I pour another red.
This morning I finally got around to replacing those old journals and created an email account for God. Given the variety of addresses approximating God's Inbox, I don't believe this is a popular idea. I find I want to write to God all the time but end up writing to my sister or a friend instead. There is something satisfying about seeing an end result, and knowing that tangible proof of requests exists. I could sort them by people. I could delete the worst of my ideas. Unlike my paper logs, I will never spill coffee on it or leave it by a window when it's raining.
If you want to write in, it's God.inbox@yahoo.com. But I imagine you have a beautiful library of journals organized by year, written in with purple ink, and tied up with ribbons.
This morning I finally got around to replacing those old journals and created an email account for God. Given the variety of addresses approximating God's Inbox, I don't believe this is a popular idea. I find I want to write to God all the time but end up writing to my sister or a friend instead. There is something satisfying about seeing an end result, and knowing that tangible proof of requests exists. I could sort them by people. I could delete the worst of my ideas. Unlike my paper logs, I will never spill coffee on it or leave it by a window when it's raining.
If you want to write in, it's God.inbox@yahoo.com. But I imagine you have a beautiful library of journals organized by year, written in with purple ink, and tied up with ribbons.
new sister
My little brother got engaged this morning. This comes after a year and a half of contemplating this decision. This is good news because 1. I will now have a little sister. 2. I will return to the States (D.C. area specifically) sometime in the next year for the wedding. I've only met Abby once, but I suspect as in other families I will be closer to her eventually and mostly know my brother through her as the official spokeperson and PR for the couple.
There is a bit of dread at having to return to the State for a wedding because I won't be located around my friends, and I will be the weird older sister who is unmarried with no date, unfashionable (Abby is a D.C. interior designer and fashionista), and lastly working in a dominantly male profession, I suspect I may be perceived as a lesbian. (am tempted to play this up).
Meanwhile, back at beach my friend Tony was asking yesterday if he could grab my ass (friends thought it was very respectful of him to ask) and calling to see if I wanted to spend a romantic evening at his place watching TV. He also invited Brazilian strippers to the party who arrived in thong bikinis.
I warned my brother that as a guest at his wedding I'm destined to find myself hanging out at the bar and mingling with his least mature, most intoxicated friends as this is the world I know.
There is a bit of dread at having to return to the State for a wedding because I won't be located around my friends, and I will be the weird older sister who is unmarried with no date, unfashionable (Abby is a D.C. interior designer and fashionista), and lastly working in a dominantly male profession, I suspect I may be perceived as a lesbian. (am tempted to play this up).
Meanwhile, back at beach my friend Tony was asking yesterday if he could grab my ass (friends thought it was very respectful of him to ask) and calling to see if I wanted to spend a romantic evening at his place watching TV. He also invited Brazilian strippers to the party who arrived in thong bikinis.
I warned my brother that as a guest at his wedding I'm destined to find myself hanging out at the bar and mingling with his least mature, most intoxicated friends as this is the world I know.
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