Goals For 2009

• At least two blog posts EVERY week. Long, short, logical, nonsensical-- it matters not. Hold me to this. Please. Badger me. I need it sometimes.

• Purchase Rosetta Stone: Spanish ("It's my birthday present to me! I'm SO happy!") and be able to hold my own in conversation with my friend Jose by the end of the year. Or maybe just have a conversation with Tim Sayles entirely in Spanish.

• New job = New challenge. Something to put my degree to use. Something more permanent. Preferably with a company called Pure Safety. Mr. Gaudreau, if you're reading this... call me? :)

• Finish reading 20 books. I attempted this last year. I only made it through 16. More on that in my next post.

• Continue my adventures in cooking. Now that I own a Magic Bullet, this could get interesting. :) I'm planning my first attempt at fresh pesto this Sunday.

• Eat a pomegranate. I've never done this. I'm intrigued.

• Participate in NaNoWriMo. I might have to work up to this.

• Submit stories to at least 2 other competitions held by Narrative Magazine.

• Keep a plant alive. Hopefully two. My adopted grandmother sent me home from Texas after Christmas with a baby orange tree. And I, feeling overzealous because of her belief in my ability to not kill this plant, also bought some fresh basil. I may be in over my head. We'll see.

• Play Rock Band 2. Drums, specifically.

• Multiple dates/hangouts (read: at least two) with Annie Parsons and Kara Orendorf. :)
  

• Visit (my cousin in) Boston in September and/or Brazil (with missionary friends) in November.

• Continue to shorten the degrees of separation between myself and Baz Lurhmann. In a perfect world, have ALL degrees erased and be nearing BFF status before production on Great Gatsby begins. I can dream with the best of 'em. That's why I think we'd get along so well. :)

$80,000.

That's approximately how much I owe Sallie Mae & Her Minions for my college education. That's depressing.

But.

Sitting here thinking on this last day of the year, I've realized how rich I really am.

I have incredible parents who are wise and fun and crazy about each other. They (generally) don't exasperate me and they are loving and incredibly supportive of all my endeavors. I have grown up under the love and influence of my grandmother, who is the godliest woman I've ever known. I have a family who is dysfunctional, but knows how to band together when it all hits the fan. I have fantastic roommates, who I can trust and walk/laugh through life with, never worrying about being stabbed in the back. I don't have a boyfriend, but I do have phenomenal men in my life who love me and advise me and encourage me and remind me that one day, it will all make sense. And there's Stephen; my dear Stephen, who makes me think and makes me smile and fills my stomach with amazing food and has driven me into more quiet times and prayer sessions than I can count this year.

I go to an incredible church, grounded in truth, alive with the Spirit, brimming with freedom and joy and purpose. I am surrounded by a compassionate community of Christ followers, epically generous, and dedicated to spreading hope in every form of godly outreach. I also have a church back in Texas filled with old friends who I occasionally forget to remember—but who continue to pray for my present and my future on a regular basis. I have a set of adopted grandparents with an amazing love story and a burning fire for God who pray for me and encourage me every time I come home to Texas. And I live in a country where I still have the freedom to worship without any real persecution.

I have a job that is not perfect, but gives me a LOT of freedom. I work with people I care about, who teach me new things and give me new things to write about every day. And more often than not, I get to eat really amazing food for cheap or free. Plus, we are blessed with great clientele who usually still tip 20% despite the state of the economy.

I make enough money to eat, pay my bills and occasionally buy things that I want. I don't have a dog—but a lot of my friends do and they send me pictures and tell me stories about their pets and every now and then, I get to pretend. I have a car, a feisty little car, with heat, AC and a stereo, who doesn't give me any real, costly trouble, only costs me $15 to fill up and takes me everywhere I need to go. I live in a cute, clean, warm/cool, safe apartment, in a city filled with music and opportunity and tons of really creative people. I'm never really bored.

I'm not addicted to cigarettes, alcohol, any illicit substances, pills, stealing things, sex, coffee, coca-cola, reality tv, designer purses, shoes or jewelry. I'm healthy. I'm not allergic to anything that I love (dogs, chocolate, wheat/gluten products, peanut butter, etc). I don't have to take any pills on a daily basis. I rarely EVER get sick and I've never had surgery. And in three weeks, I'm flying to Orange County, California to stand with my college roommates and witness one of our best friends marry the love of her life.

I really could not ask for more.

2009? Bring it.

Happy New Year, blogosphere.

I <3 P.S. 115

Tonight, I watched this great documentary called Mad Hot Ballroom. It came out a couple years ago, but I liked the name and I'd heard it was good, so I picked it up at Blockbuster (yes, Netflixers... some people still do that. :)

This film is like So You Think You Can Dance: Elementary School Edition. I loved it. It was funny and charming and the kids were hilarious. There's no scary stage moms or little girls in scary outfits wearing tons of makeup. Just these 11 year old kids from various public schools around NYC who take this ballroom dancing class for 10 weeks as part of their PE curriculum and then compete against each other. It's adorable.

I can't get over how mature and well-spoken some of these 5th graders were. It really surprised me! And of course it's NY, so it's this beautiful melting pot of ethnicities. A LOT of the kids were Dominican, but there were Blacks, Italians, Asians, Indians, Puerto Ricans, Filipinos, Irish-- all together. So awesome. :)



There's this one little boy though, who COMPLETELY hijacked my heart the moment I laid eyes on him. His name is Wilson and I don't think he spoke a lick of English during the entire film. But when I saw him, I literally paused the movie and ran into Jo's room and was like, "Jo. My SON is in this movie. I'm serious. The boy I adopt one day? Might look exactly like him." He is the cutest thing ever. And he was SO good! He and Jatnna, one of my favorite girls, also happen to be on the cover of the film. But you can't see him very good on there, so here he is:

So. Freaking. Cute. And he was so into it! He danced the rumba and he was just awesome. They all were! They do such a good job, I loved the Indigo Team :) And their teacher, Ms. Reynso is awesome and so freaking proud of them the whole time. Its precious.


Anyway-- 105 minutes well spent. Add it to your Netflix queue, if you're into that sorta thing. Annnnnd here's Wilson and Jatnna again at the Tribeca Film Festival...

Next up? Spellbound.

Parallels

I tend to be rather impatient.

I want to know what's next, I want to know what's going to happen so that if anyone asks me, I can tell them. I think that's why I write stories, so I can know and decide what's going to happen and shape and craft all the different scenes accordingly.

But yesterday, during worship at Grace, I had a revelation.

God invented creativity and wit and mystery and suspense. He is the force behind the creation of all of those things. He made JJ Abrams and Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse. They function the way they function because of HIM-- because of several fantastic pieces that he placed into them. Pieces of Himself.

It's no secret that LOST is my favorite show. For a lot of reasons, I view it as a pinnacle of storytelling. They way the characters are so well-developed and intertwined, the adventurous, mysterious, intense and intricate nature of the plot, and the boldly meticulous unfolding of the entire series just blows my mind. Over a period of 4 seasons, I've (mostly) stopped being frustrated by the endless rounds of jaw dropping cliffhangers and plot twists and just come to love them. I always tune in again the next week. And while they've still got 3 seasons to go (Is it 2 or 3? I just know it's over in 2010.) I know I'll be along for the ride. I've come to trust the creators of this tale, and subsequently believe that through all the twists and turns, it will all make sense and come together by the final episode. When it's over, I'll think all the way back to the first episode and go "Wow. It all makes sense now! That was a great ride."

So, at church, I realized how stupid I am. For trusting so completely in some nerdy dudes in Hollywood to craft a story-- while most of the time, if I'm really honest, I don't trust the God who made them-- the God who made me-- to work my life out in the same way.

The boldness of that unapologetically deliberate storytelling that I love so much, the kind that doesn't care how frustrated I am about the questions they left unanswered in whatever episode, the kind that makes me respect the show so much-- is exactly the fashion in which God is unfolding my life.

That might sound stupid to you, but you can't even imagine how that put things in perspective for me. I love when He does that. Tailors it for my mind, so I can understand. He knows me SO well-- how little it takes to ease my mind and make me aware of the parts of my heart that still need work. I love Him for that.

So even though I have plenty of unanswered questions concerning the various Where's and Who's and When's and How's in my own life, I don't want to be in such a hurry for "2010" to arrive. I just want to keep breathing, keep walking and savoring the drama of every season as it unfolds.

"I can't tell what happens next,
Just what I've seen,
I don't know what it means...
But I'm holding on the edge of my seat..."
-switchfoot

"I can't believe my eyes, I must be dreaming, wake up Jack, this isn't fair!"

Wow, today was eventful. This week, young as it may be, has been eventful!

I have a new Christmas CD. Where else can you find Mariah Carey and the Temptations and Frank Sinatra and Chris Brown and Ray Charles and the Trans-Siberian Orchestra and Relient K and Jack Skellington all together but in my cd player? Nowhere, that's where.

Yesterday, I saw Australia. It was epic, and mystical and romantic and adventurous and very, very Baz Lurhman. I thought it was beautiful.

I also found a new drink at Starbucks: the London Fog. It consists of steamed vanilla soymilk and Earl Grey tea. Delicious. Especially with a side of Christmas music and a handsome boy across the table.

Also, this week, I am a vegetarian. I know. Yes. I'm serious. It's only for a week. Two weeks ago, Joanna and I decided that we don't eat enough fruits and veggies. So last night, after eating steak and potatoes, we agreed that until next Monday, all we're eating is fruits and veggies.

Actually that's not true at all. This week will be more like an exercise in searching for non-meat protein sources. Today I ate peanut butter crackers and a black bean sub with tomatoes and avocados and provolone cheese and some pasta with s'ghetti saus. I can totally do this.

Actually this shouldn't be dificil at all... but my body tends to crave/run on mostly red meat and sugar/carbs so... this is a bit of a stretch for me. Probably a good one though. It won't hurt.

I also found out today that I'm in a fashion show tomorrow. I got fitted today and tried on three things from this couture boutique-y place on West End. First there was this horrible white tulle "dress" which had a deconstructed Japanese flag on the side of it, and required a lace bodysuit underneath it. Blech.

Then, there was a beautiful, $1700 old Hollywood-looking, salmon pink gown that was almost completely backless, with a train and some Jimmy Choo pumps. Yes. Please. My feet have never known such a wonder. The dress was amazing too. But alas, everyone else was wearing formalish gowns and they wanted me in something else, so...

I'm wearing some $500 stovepipe motorcycle pants with bronze zippers and a black and white corset with some six inch black heels. I am SO rock-n-roll. ;)

Anyway, I should go to bed, as tomorrow will be long.

Oh! But next week? I'm-- well... I'll tell you next week. :)

I Made A Pumpkin Cheesecake.

And I'm so excited about it. :)

I spent part of this morning smashing/grinding up an entire box of Nilla Wafers and one whole package of honey graham crackers. Then I added (a little too much?) cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves to the crumbs and some butter and mixed it all up, then tried to remember the any crust shaping techniques I've seen Lorraine (pastry chef at work) using when she makes our amazing key lime pie.

For not doing this every day? I did okay. :)

Then the filling! Lots of cream cheese and sugar (brown and white) and vanilla extract and eggs and sour cream and a whole can of pumpkin. I'm so grateful to have Robert's nice Kitchenaid mixer! One day, I will buy my own.

And it's in the oven!!! Right now!! I'm so excited. I think I'll take a picture of it when-- ooo! Timer!

***FANFARE***

YAAAAAAAY!!! I'm so excited! I want to eat it! But it has to cool now. And then sit in the fridge till like... tomorrow. But then I'll get to eat it! Yay!!!!

Speaking of eating, you should really check this out. Or just go to freerice.com and start playing. It's awesome. Especially if you're addicted to Word Twist or something like that. :)

Happy Thanksgiving!!!!!

Iron & Wine

I just made a grilled cheese sandwich. For the first time in maybe... 3 or 4 years?

Man, I've been missing out.

I bought some of that V8 Tomato soup in a box, added some herbs to it, then topped it with mozzarella. Then I made a grilled cheddar cheese sandwich, amped up with some Mesquite smoked turkey breast and voila! (Ha! First I typed "Viola!")

C'est si bon! I imagine I'll be eating that on many more rainy winter evenings. Mmmm.

Last night was good too. I went to see Iron & Wine at the Ryman. I drank cabernet out of a plastic cup and sat next to the boy who stole my heart away this summer with his saute pans and one-dimpled smile. We had great seats in the second row of the balcony and Sam Beam's voice made me wonder if his children realize how fortunate they are (assuming he sang them to sleep when they were babies).* The show was the loveliest kind of mellow-- fantastically comfortable.

While listening to one of the songs, (sorry, can't remember the name for once) I had this Fantasia kind of moment when I realized how much it sounded like rain. I closed my eyes briefly and imagined this scene with all the pitter patter of the plucked guitar strings and the gentle sporadic percussion cadence of the larger drops and then violin strings adding the harmony of all those droplets running downstream into pools. It was beautiful! But before my thought had even ended, I was struck by the beauty of my current state.

By the fact that I wasn't huddled in a ravine in some war torn country, running from explosions, or fending off hunger pangs with my mind so focused on survival that there's no room for anything else.

In that moment, I was humbled and grateful to be a such a "rich" American, with a job and money to pay for a ticket to an experience that enabled me to hear what rain would sound like if it were music.


*Apparently he did.