Currents

Is it fair to post Currents when there is no real consistent content in between? Also, remember the catalog called Current? Also, I wish people still spelled it catalogue.

Current TV show: Finally getting around to watching Parenthood. Why did it end in February? Anybody?

Current Food: Still getting meals from people who want to cook for us. Now that I am officially weaned from the pump (no real sense of loss there, let me tell ya), I need to get a grip on the rampage-style eating that has gone on in the last three months. I was trying to describe the hunger that hits when you're nursing/faux-nursing at a machine. It's kind of like the feeling of being at a party that you didn't wantto go to but you did anyway, but then you walk in the door and you want to leave IMMEDIATELY. It's urgent that way. Only it's way more fun than that, because you get to eat and you lose tons of weight at the same time, and you get a glimpse into life with a great metabolism. So. It's nothing like my party metaphor, it's just an awesome hall pass. It's more like growing up in a super conservative Christian environment and suddenly your youth pastor tells you that premarital sex is like, TOTALLY ALLOWED.

Current Movie: The Help. Don't watch it the day before you become a working mom. It will bring up all kinds of uncomfortable feelings and questions and you will just bawl your bloody eyes out.

Current Wishlist: Rest. Baby sleeps like one, but I can't seem to go all night without tossing, turning, fretting. It's ridiculous, and I know I'm just stressed out with all the transition in life, but how cruel to have a baby sleep 11 hours and only sleep six myself. I need REST.

Current Music: The Muppets on Pandora. I am not ashamed.

Current Book: Bringing Up Bebe by Pamela Druckerman. Basically, it's the book version of that fabulous movie BABIES. The point? It all pretty much comes out in the cultural, societal wash. Do your best. Give hugs.

Current Worry: Oh, you know. Just hoping we fumble through the rest of our lives as parents.

Current Indulgence: Hopping back into Pinterest. It was sort of uninteresting when I first started because it was so lean, but now you could spend hours and hours and hours looking at all sorts of beauty. Yum.

Current Obsession: Same ol', same ol'...

Boss

My dear boss at Side-by-Side is hitting the road next week. She has a sweet opportunity and makes me wish big things for my own life...especially when I am 51 and have three kids and wear cute clothes and have a dog named George Constanza and have friends who are cosmetics buyers at Nordstrom. Wait, I guess I just like her life. ANYWAY.

In no particular order, what I have learned from Colleen!

1. Oprah is worth watching. And quoting. And talking about the next morning. And DVRing.

2. Self-talk is not a cheesy phrase. It's what we all need to pay attention to more often. This is not the same as pretending I am blameless at all times.

3. When you need to correct someone, help them avoid the bad self-talk they will dish out on themselves by being nice a nice person. Whenever I made (small, medium and big) mistakes in my job, especially early on, she'd walk me through an alternative option and say, "LEARNING, LEARNING!" And we would giggle and I wouldn't feel awful. I'd just learn.

4. When your mom is far away, it's okay to let other women Mom's age see you cry.

5. Pay attention to the way of the world and adapt and learn about it, especially if that means more fundraising dollars for your nonprofit. Don't be a stick in the mud just because you like mud.

6. Photos tell stories and should be printed LIBERALLY and rotated often, so we remember all the stories.

7. It's smart to be logged into Facebook during work. You can look up people's email addresses and tag them when you need volunteers at the last minute for boring jobs. And perhaps notice when your volunteers start dating each other!

8. When somebody like Susan Boyle happens to the world, close the dang spreadsheet and WATCH. And talk about it with your people at work, and tell the department next door.

9. Remember that every single soul has a gift to give and a place to shine. No matter how quirky or personally annoying I may find that soul. Let people do jobs they are going to be good at.

10. Grief brings up grief. When a volunteer works with a family who has a sick kid, lots of other ish is likely to flood that volunteer. Because when you're confronted with somebody else's sad story, you remember your own, so it's good to think about how that might happen and reflect on it, so your sad story doesn't drown somebody else's in a really crap way.

11. Back to #3, I think I actually did have bad self talk for a LONG time when I was learning (at my job and maybe in all my life). And so my favorite lesson from Colleen is that learning doesn't have to be so uncomfortable. It doesn't have to include self-loathing and regret. It can mean noticing what to do differently next time, apologizing some of the time, and getting on with the day.

12. Take care of your people. When our staff was torn up about a kiddo who died last year, really, really torn up, Colleen didn't try to coach us out of being (actually, disproportionately) sad, she took us for pedicures. Everybody. We sat there and talked about his funeral and the weather and read People magazine. And that is exactly what we needed. So take care of your people. Spend some money if that's what it takes. But don't talk them out of it--care them back.

Before Bed

This is one of those things that is super fun to watch right before you fall asleep. I wonder what you'll dream about?

Symmetry from Everynone on Vimeo.

Via Design Mom

South Africa Meets Soccer Meets TEARJERKER!!!

Don't worry... I haven't forgotten how to write my own sentences. It's just that posting videos is so much more sophisticated. I'll be back again someday!

Channeling Anne Lamott: Things (Hypothetically) Overheard While Working at a Church*

WARNING: May contain high levels of Christian cynicism and/or irreverence. Do not proceed unless you're in a light mood. I like my job, I love it, even, and the people I work with are great. They just have a mysterious lingo that needs to be ribbed.

1. "What is your growing edge?"

Translation: What are your weaknesses? How do you avoid looking like a loser in the workplace when you've make a huge mistake? OR Do you doubt God's existence? How much so? Would you admit that to a congregant?

2. "Why don't you speak into that a little bit?"

Translation: You didn't explain your point very clearly, so can you please be more articulate?Get to the point.

3. "I don't feel called to participate/The congregant didn't feel called/The elders didn't feel called..."

Translation: There's not enough money in the world to lead me back to the hell of bulletin-stuffing. Get a life.

4. "God put it on my heart."

Translation: I can't get this out of my mind, and although it sounds obsessive, I need to talk about this again.

5. "How can I pray for you?"

Translation: You look awful. Awfully tired, or pale, or worn out, or uninterested in responding to emails about marriage licenses and Baptism Sundays in June.

6. "You shared _______."

Translation: You spoke/told me about/reported/explained ______ in an especially spiritual tone of voice.

7. "God has a plan in all of this."

Translation: Wow. You really blew your budget. But I have a feeling there will be some good promos at Target this month, and if we time the announcements correctly, maybe we can rake in some extra cash to cover those Christmas decorations.

8. "I spent some time in the Word."

Translation: I brag about the fact that I spent time reading the Bible because more often than not I forget to do it, or I hit snooze, or I fall asleep mid-parable.

9. "This is God's Will."

Translation: There is no good reason that your child got cancer, you were fired after 40 years of service, or that racism keeps digging its heels into our community. Life sucks, and all we have is the glimmers of goodness that point us back to Someone Bigger.

10. THE CHRISTMAS SHIP JUST SAILED BY MY HOUSE. AS I TYPED. CHRISTMAS SHIP TRUMPS ALL! :)

*In no way does this post reflect the views of the church I work for, or the people who work there, or the level of sincerity in their collective expressions of faith. They're legit.

As We Clutch, As We Circle

From Kelly Corrigan's essay, "Transcending: Words on Women and Strength"

We will call and say “I heard the news” and whatever the news is, we will come running, probably with food...Eventually, someone who is not supposed to die will, maybe one of us, maybe a husband, God forbid a child, and all this celebrating and sharing and confessing will make certain essential comforts possible. We’ll rally around and hold each other up and it won’t be nearly enough, but it will help the time pass just a hair faster than it would have otherwise. We will wait patiently and lovingly for that first laugh after the loss. When it comes, and it will come, we will cry as we howl, as we clutch, as we circle. We will transcend, ladies. Because we did all this, in that worst moment, we will transcend.

Target Women

Sometimes I love Sarah Haskins more than words can say. Delight.

Goodbye, Sweet House

My parents closed on the sale of our house in Parker this week. But the new owners are really cute--young newlyweds, just like us! :)

Farewell, 11602 Sagewood Lane. Thanks for the memories.

Ayayay

If the world would stop abusing children, I'd be okay with that.

If people would drive less aggressively, I'd be okay with that. 

If we could all be given one hour a day to appreciate art without interruption, I'd be okay with that.

If I could overcome my aversion to classic literature, I'd be okay with that. 

If blogging meant I was a real live writer and I was eligible to camp out at the Hugo House and smoke cigars, I'd be really okay with that.

If I didn't make mistakes in friendship, I'd be okay with that.

If cancer didn't eat up families and plans and dreams, I'd be okay with that.

If schizophrenia didn't paralyze people with untapped potential, I'd be okay with that, too.

If I could refrain from crying during Oprah, or refrain from admitting I like Oprah, I'd be okay with that.

If I could have a limitless shopping spree at Costco, I'd be extremely okay with that.

If I made an appearance on Jay Leno as a very popular guest, I'd be okay with that.

If I understood all the literary allusions I came across in NYTimes Op-Eds, I'd be okay with that.

If I could have my mom's strawberry cake and eat it, too, I'd be okay with that.

If I could have a wee babe right now and not be at all interrupted, I'd be okay with that.

If I could make sure that all the people I love are within walking distance from my house, I'd be okay with that.

See? I'm not hard to please. I'm okay with a LOT of stuff.

Recently Asked Questions (aka Finslippy Junior)

How is your new job going so far?
Well, I really love it. That's the short answer. The long answer is that I love it so much I am compelled to be very insecure about things like my WPM rates and whether or not I remember how to find the meaning of the universe using Excel formulas. In Vista. Even though we don't even use Vista. Basically, I always doubt myself when I'm learning something new--I somehow expect perfection of myself from Day One, and I incessantly obsess over things like, "If I don't figure out how to format this letterhead by the time my lunch break rolls around, I AM GOING TO GET SACKED! Eek!" I know this is ludicrous, but it's just one many areas that I'm realizing, "Holly, go ahead and feel okay about yourself. It's alright. You paid your dues in junior high. MOVE ON."

What's marriage like for you, you young, naive thing?
I hate to use words like this, because I somehow think people might misunderstand me as an unloving, not-that-into-her-husband kind of wife, but I'd say being married is mysterious. And complicated. And very, very rich. All words that can carry lots of subtext, but in this case, it's good subtext. We have some sweet mentors who always remind us that conflict, and the subsequent gobs of conversation we tend to have, is a sign of excellent health. According to Those Two, it's a sign that we're already wrestling with the stuff that's going to root us in the habit of Marriage Maintenance. Don't be jealous of that crafty label, I already submitted in to Les and Leslie's "Naming Our Inimitable Marriage Conferences Contest". And don't think we have lost all our youthful spark--just tonight Dustin tried to put Girl Scout Cookies down my shirt.

Do you remember any grammar rules whatsoever? Is Grammar Girl ashamed she ever let you interview her?
Obviously I remember nothing. I am a failed subject. Because I write cliches constantly. And I nearly stumbled on some SUBJECT-VERB agreement last week. And I couldn't remember the term I needed...ah...blech...what's is caaaaaalled? Oh. A modifier. Thank goodness for Carly, who saved me from an embarrassing 80 invitation error. And thanks for mentioning that interview with Grammar Girl, I something forget about that, THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY LIFE!

What did you eat for dinner tonight?
Mmmm, this, I can confidently say, was a smashing success. Homemade tortillas, roasted tomatoes and sweet corn, marbley steak in an orange and chili marinade, and Crystal Light. (It can't ALL be from the farmer's market, okay?) It was great. We used cloth napkins and lit candles. Cheaper than Canlis.

How was that trip you took to Mexico? Are you like, addicted to cheesy mission trips or something? You're practically a...nevermind.
I'm not sure why I keep signing up for those thingamabobs, except every time I come home I feel like I've tasted an experience that smacks of humanity--the good, the bad, and the ugly. And somehow, in the midst of connecting with good folk in another language, in another world entirely, I feel small enough to let God be God again. And I need to remind myself of that more often.

Are you willing to continue talking about yourself, for the sake of us, your readers?
Duh. How else will I figure life out?

Shhh, it's good news

Well. After approximately 18 months of complaining about my lack of cool job opportunities, I have finally landed my duh-ream job. It's seriously the best thing that has happened to me since finishing college (well, the marriage thing, but I consider this a different category). It's a little familiar to me, as I've volunteered with the program before, but I imagine it will be the most stretching, gratifying, fun job I could have dreamed up. I anticipate small purply pink clouds twinkling above my desk, all day long.

But I'm feeling a bit sheepish, and I feel a little guilty for "getting my way", so to speak, when there are so many people who are getting the pink slip all around me. In fact, when I run into someone who's listened to my plight (WHY GOD, DO ALL THE OTHER ENGLISH MAJORS FIND SUCCESS? WHY NOT ME? WHY???), nobody is as excited to talk about it as I am. Granted, I have felt great support, I don't mean anybody's openly rolling their eyes (though they might when I leave)--I just expected everyone to be as moved as I am.

So I'm realizing... My new job is not as exciting to other people as it is to me. (Probably because there is no elaborate party to follow involving food and happy tears and a white dress. That was way cooler.) Even though I knew this and could occasionally admit it before now, leaving college without having some sort of immediate success threatened my identity in ridiculous ways. I had so much self-doubt--everybody had always showed me The Path I should take. Get good grades? Of course! Behave? I'd love to! Listen to your parents about money and drugs and insurance policies? Obviously! Graduate college with a degree you'll pursue passionately? Check! But, um, what's next?

And it was the first time that the world didn't hand me a shiny blue ribbon. Aaaaaaand it was shocking.

Here on the flip side? It's embarrassing to have been defined by all that. But in the end, could I have known any better? Probably so. Will I spend my entire frickin' life trying to know my true identity, the one that's rooted in the love of Jesus and caring about justice and the gristle of being a survivor? Probably so.

Wait, Wait!

I have one more grievance--Twenty-year-old station wagons that never had good Consumer Reports reviews in the first place that DIE approximately two weeks before one's wedding. And then require upwards of EIGHT HUNDRED DOLLARS to get running again.

Yeah, I'm grievin' about that one.

The Sting of Rejection

Meh. I've been rejected by a wedding blog. Meh.

I know that in the grand scheme, this will probably rank as one of the least significant moments of rejection in my lifetime (not like the time in fifth grade, when K. Sykes announced that I'd never get a boyfriend--in fifth grade). It is however, a bit of a blow to the withering writer in me.

This time last year I was writing at least ten pages a week, which felt like a lot to a girl who was juggling all things senior-year-of-college. Not exactly Dickens, but it was something. And I felt like I was writing with a little bit of GRIT, because I knew everything that landed on paper would eventually be seem by the beady little eyes of my Creative Writing professors, for better or for worse.

So now I'm writing about my wedding there, and the rest of my life here, but I'm hungry for that GRIT again.

Anybody want to have a writing party? Write five pages and have a swaparoo?