An overly confessional confession

*Too much drama about this post. This is the state of my heart, people, and I feel like sharing it here. No, it's not about one person. Part of my confusion is the fact that a whole slew of things have piled into my heart in a few months. Pains, excitements, joys, heartbreaks--all as a single woman for the first time. So do not read yourself into this post, no matter who you are. It is a conglomeration of everything. 

Sometimes it's hard being a confessional person.

There are times that I'm aware of it, and I realize that I should keep more things in. I should guard my heart a little more closely. I should be careful to whom I spill my thoughts and feelings.

Part of being a confessional person, however, is that itch. If you're similar you know exactly what I'm talking about. If I haven't shared part of myself for a certain period of time I become restless. I start looking for ways to share. I seek out a person with whom I can unload.

You'd think that prayer or a private journal would be helpful for a confessional person. But those of us who long to share our hearts understand that a large part of the process is the response from another. Physical words and feedback.

I say all this because the need to write about the struggles in my heart has become unbearably strong, yet I must still watch my words and what I reveal.

The heart of a woman is a treacherous environment. I knew that it was treacherous when I was dating the Monolith. He got to experience it firsthand, poor man. Assaulted by my fears and doubts, then soothed by love and pride in him, then shunned by my misgivings and hesitations.

But you know what I'd forgotten?

The heart of a woman is also treacherous to herself. The lack of feelings. The presence of feelings. The questions about worth, about motivation, about attraction. Feelings unmet. Impossible feelings. Impossible situations. Dangerous feelings. Dangerous situations.

This treacherous heart of mine is in turmoil. It feels pulled and manipulated, soothed, pursued, confused, longing, doubtful, fearful, hesitant, nervous, excited, sorrowful, desperate, rebellious, open, and hopeful.

This wildly complicated heart of mine has only been free for a short time. Folks, she's not out of practice. She has no practice. Somehow my fluttering heart simply fell into the hands of others along the way. She's never had to weigh things, gauge words and actions, or make hard choices.

She doesn't know what to do when a man declares his feelings. She doesn't know what to do when a man won't declare any feelings. She doesn't know what to do with her intense and new feelings. She warms at the slightest pursuit by a man and shrivels at the slightest indication of disinterest. She blossoms at thoughtful gestures, grand and small, and she wilts at silence. She's young, naive, easily swayed, and entirely too romantic.

Sometimes she just really bugs me.

One thing is the same though, and it's the main reason she's shiny and new right now:

More than anything in the world, she longs to be captured by a man. She longs to be pursued like mad, pursued like nothing in the world exists except her and the knowledge of her depths. She wants to be known, held, understood, cherished, and kept safe. She wants a man to love the body, mind, and soul she beats within, and she wants him to find it a joy and a thrill to unlock her mysteries.

-

Ah, my precious heart. Someday, my love.

A birthday and a lock-in

Ah, so much to catch up on. Sorry, my gentle readers! I have left you hanging without any tasty morsels for over a week now!

Bad blogger, bad blogger.

To be honest, I've been having such a fun week I didn't have time to sit down and write it all out! Let's start from the top:

1. My Birthday
What a day! My best friend, Kristy, comes in the night before and plans on being with me all day at school. I'll admit, I'm a little nervous about this, seeing as my kids can be unpredictable sometimes, but I'm looking forward to it anyway.

I arrive at school and discover myself staring at this when I come up to my door. What the . . .?

Then I open up the door and discover that my entire room is completely decked out for my birthday. Plastic cup streamers. Messages spelled out on paper plates on my walls. Messages on my board. Tumbleweeds for decoration. My bathroom pass wrapped in tin foil (awesome!).

And who did this for me? My new bestie here in town, AB. What a great friend! My days started off so well because of her and her thoughtfulness. Later I discovered that she enlisted the help of some of my students, which made me feel even more blessed and loved. And the day was just beginning!

My students in my core classes were well-behaved and we had a good time even though it wasn't the greatest day for Kristy to see just how much fun we normally have. Monday was the day when a lot of things got piled onto them and we happened to have some hiccups with technology, too. Joy! But it all got worked out.

I loved the fact that Kristy could finally put some faces with some names, especially for a few students. She even felt comfortable enough to trade jabs with one of my more, um, colorful students, a source of great entertainment for me. And at the end of the day, AB showed up with a homemade cake just for me! Incredible! I thought the day couldn't get any better.

Kristy took me out to the local restaurant, which is great. I had my first steak in, oh, I don't know how long. Sigh. I realized just how much I missed red meat--for some reason it's really hard to cook it just for myself. Either way, my rare/medium rare ribeye hit the spot--especially because I got to gross Kristy out with how red it was in the middle. Mmm. Doesn't she realize it's not steak unless it's practically still mooing? Silly girl.

When we got home we made some special hot chocolate (double yum) and popped in a movie. Very good. Very dramatic. Notes on a Scandal. You should check it out. After that Kristy and I were feeling a little sleepy, but I suddenly got a text from a friend telling me that there's a meteor shower going on.

!

I am instantly awake and desperate to get out there and see some stars! Kristy's getting even more tired, so she tells me to head out. I pulled on as many layers as possible, grabbed my hat and a blanket, and hopped in my car. Off I go to the far NW. It's more dark and clear than anything I could have ever found in Wichita. I parked in a field, wrapped the blanket around me and laid on my back window just staring up at the sky. It was freezing and amazing. I saw some beautiful stars, got to talk to Daddy for a bit, and ended my day perfectly.

2. Youth Lock-In
Have I told you all yet how much I love my students? Because, um, I really do. We started our lock-in with some caroling at the rest home, then drove around town spreading Christmas cheer. Then back to the church for hot chocolate (yum again!) and games. Then a Bible mystery game (fun). Then a white elephant gift exchange (where my colorful student--who shall from here on out be known as Tubby--decided it would be a good time to torture Miss Martin by putting a jock strap on over his shorts and walk up to her--no lie). Then to the high school for some strobe light volleyball. That lasts for about an hour, then two more hours of regular volleyball. Then back for a game of Angels and Demons (holy cow did the kids love that game). Then chilling out with students, talking and laughing (perhaps my favorite part of the night). Then a concert by yours truly (at the students' demand). Then breakfast. Then cleanup. Then home for a two hour nap before church.

Phew!

Let's see. I had so much fun, partly because I got to spend some time with new friends, partly because I got to interact with my students outside of school, and partly because I didn't have to act like a teacher at the lock-in.

I never mind acting like a teacher. I mean, I am one, and I love the job! But really, for youth group, this was the first time the kids have had a chance to just sort of chill with Miss Martin and have fun. Of course, I still make them call me Miss Martin (some might say it's a silly rule, but it's what I've chosen), but overall it was a sort of relief to just have fun with them.

.

Hmm, I was going to give you a little more here, but I suddenly decided to wait.

So, dear reader, you'll have to wait until tomorrow or so to get a little more from me. Hope you didn't get too disgusted with such an overwhelmingly happy post. Perhaps next time I can add a few anecdotes for you from my various students. There are enough rolling around in my head to keep you laughing for quite awhile.

Ah Zooey . . .

This was on Conan last night. Instant. Love.

Watch if you know what's good for you . . .

She and Him "I Put a Spell On You"

A slice of the past . . .

I love Christmas. I love making music. Doesn't it make sense to put the two together?

That's exactly what two friends and I did a few years ago, and--if I do say so myself--they turned out really well.

I love to listen to them and think of that special time. We recorded in the booth from 10-2 a.m. each night over a weekend , had dance parties, mixed and mastered, and finally had Christmas presents for our families (being poor college students, you know).

If you feel so inclined to take a listen, be my guest. I'm mostly putting these here so I have an easier way to access them whenever I'm in the Christmas Spirit!

"Veni, Veni, Emmanuel" by MB
"Holy, Holy, Holy" by SW and MB
"Little Drummer Boy" by SW

Head here if you'd like to treat your ears.

Enjoy if you listen! I'm doing so right now . . .

But then it snowed . . .

Today was a rather lackadaisical day. Oh, if my students could see this they'd be so proud! 

I'm not sure what it was. Perhaps it's simply the nature of this week. My visits to Wichita have ceased which is saddening yet a relief at the same time. Naturally, I'm sad I can't see my friends every weekend now, but I'm so very relieved that I can finally stay at home for a day, sleep in, actually clean my house, and catch up on some reading/grading/planning, etc.

That will be this weekend, however. Now I'm in this frantic planning mode. Ah, the things that students never see, hear, or know.

I love to plan ahead. It makes me feel better about where I'm headed with the students if I know what's coming up. Now, I'm all about being spontaneous. I change things at the last minute all the time. I love to go with the flow and see what would work best for the kids (sometimes it's even a split second decision just before the words come out of my mouth!). Have plans made ahead of time, however, makes me feel better about changing them.

I'd rather spontaneously change pre-made plans than enact hurried plans, you know?

Well, because all my planning time (i.e. weekends) has been taken up lately with visits to the ICT, that's left me in a few weeks of rushed plans. And for me, rushed means coming up with it the night before.

This has slowly worn me down, and I think today was the first time it's actually affected my attitude and demeanor with my kids. I was easily annoyed and aggravated by many things that would normally slide right off my shoulders. I told two of my classes today how disappointed in them I was. That's not normal.

Even my hour that normally relaxes me and lifts my heart couldn't do it for me today.

But then it snowed.

Big, fat snowflakes that instantly turned into puddles on the ground, but I'm still counting it as snow.

And I was happy again.

In lieu of a deep post . . .

I have a lot of heavy things on my heart lately. Bet you couldn't tell, huh?

All in due time my lovelies.

Meanwhile, I wanted something to make me laugh. This, obviously, is the perfect choice.

Please enjoy. Oh, and make sure you watch to the very end.

Awesome

I want to be the house on the left of this photo. I want to be it so badly . . .

Short and . . . wait . . .

A quick conversation from one of my classes today:

Me:      C, you need to put your hood down.
C:        But, Miss Martin, it's cold!
Me:      I know.
C:        Will you warm me up?

Clearly it did not make it through his head that Miss Martin does not need his comments.

Sir, Amen!

Today was excellent. Allow me to recount my day for you:

1. I sleep in (by choice) and subsequently got to school around seven this morning. That's crazy late for me! But I am so grateful for the extra sleep that I feel great for the day.

2. My first two hours fly by rather well. Then it's third hour.

3. Oh third hour. Not sure what was in the air today, but by far one of the funniest hours we've had all year. My face felt like it was about to break from all the smiling I was doing. I'm hopeful that we actually learned something during the hour, but, if not, at least we had a fun time. And if we did? Then holy cow! I need to figure out to have class like that every day.

4. Actually got a few things done during 4th hour today, and finally got it through a student's head that he really shouldn't pay me such excessive compliments. At least, I think I got it through his head. We'll see if he says his normal "Miss Martin, you're lookin' good today. That's really working for you."

You think it'd be rude to pretend to throw up when he says that? Just a thought.

5. Share my high school journal with my little Creeper and I have a great conversation with her. We chat about high school and high school relationships, learning from heartbreak, and the reality of love. I felt great about the conversation . . .

6. . . . that is, until I discovered that a student had eavesdropped on our conversation! Then that student got another student to ask me about a conversation I thought had been private! And of course that student had to ask about the specific phrase that would probably throw me off the most.

Ridiculous. I shall now have to watch everything I say in school because apparently little ears are always around the corner to catch anything that will fall in.

So besides that little annoyance, school was great today. I've been having a lot of fun lately. Seriously.

7. I got another note from a student! So happy! This note was more of a series of little notes (cute!) and they're definitely going to go with the other one. I'm starting a little file where I can keep meaningful notes from students and pull them out on a bad day.

And now, here's a present for my Little Creeper. She knows who she is.

30 Facts About MB

1. Even though it hurts, I love it when my cheeks are red and freezing because it makes me feel alive.

2. I do not like to be touched in any way (no hugs, or even a hand on the arm) by ANYONE unless it's someone I'm interested in/involved with romantically. This puzzles many people. 

3. After being in theatre for most of my life, I no longer have any modesty. This makes some of my friends uncomfortable. Who needs closed doors or turned backs?

4. Very rarely does something I "love" stick around for good, for I'm always finding new things to enjoy and new interests; however, I've stuck with a very specific favorite salad dressing for five years now with no signs of getting bored. This = progress! 

5. I finally became someone with internet on her phone who texts a lot. I'm my own worst nightmare. 

6. Every now and then I contemplate running away and starting from scratch.

7. The fastest way to my heart is to write me a long and honest letter. 

8. These are the physical traits I am most attracted to in a man, in order: defined forearms, a broad and strong back, thick eyebrows, dark hair, a strong nose, rugged hands, a full beard, and a thick neck.

9. My body craves about 9 hours of sleep a night. I've been living consistently on 5. I can feel the years falling off the end of my life . . .

10. I believe in fate, love-at-first-sight, and soul mates mostly because my parents' love story proves that all those things are true. 

11. I sing along to most songs whether I like them or not. I can't stop. 

12. I only listen to country music once a year: at the yearly barn dance. At that time I forget my disdain for country music and just enjoy country swing, line dancing, and two-stepping. Then it's back to sanity.

13. I make every visitor to my house lay on my bed. It's seriously the best thing you've ever felt.

14. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to remind me that this is my life now and it's not just some fabulous dream.

15. I feel attractive and comfortable in my skin for the first time in seven years, and it shows. 

16. Sometimes I can be overly confessional. I like my life to be an open book for people.

17. I'm seriously considering letting people fix me up with someone for the first time in my life. This makes me somewhat nervous.

18. When I'm awake, I'm awake. I don't drink caffeine in any form. 

19. If my hot water would last for an hour I'm sure I could take an hour long shower. 

20. I am a night person for sure. I become really productive and really energetic. My house gets really clean and organized after 8 every night!

21. I love the stars so much. I want to lay on someone's roof and watch the stars all night. Can someone make that happen?

22. Living alone is amazing. I don't have to worry about surprising roommates, I can stay up until 3 a.m. and be loud, and I can wear (or not wear) whatever I want.

23. When I get married, my husband better not be a cuddler. I hate sharing a bed (as Kristy knows)!

24. I love it when people call me by a nickname. The most common is MB. The people I love most call me MB. You should call me MB.

25. I love, love, love to dance. Waltz, swing, line dance, two-step, rave, hip-hop, you name it and I'll do it. A man who will swing me around is an instant source of pure joy.

26. I really like being short. I love being able to fit right under someone's arm.

27. I do not stay angry. Ever. It's too stressful to hold on to anger. 

28. I haven't felt exhilaration like this in a long time. Life is so fun right now.

29. I love humor about bodily functions, and I'm not afraid to talk about the real thing, too. Deal with it.

30. I'm so glad that I'm teaching high school. These kids will keep me young for life.

A Thanksgiving conversation, for kicks.

Family traditions. So touching, so sweet, so moving.

Ha!

When we hear the word tradition we usually think of something old, something to revered, something sacred. Generally. The traditions in my family, however, are quite often not those things, and I'm sure many of my gentle readers will agree when it comes to their own families.

Some of the traditions in my family include:
1. Making the same cake every year for Christmas.
2. Fighting over who gets what firework as we watch them on the 4th.
3. Bourbon slush.
4. Being sci-fi geeks.
5. Making fun of my mom at every chance.
6. Playing cards.
7. Making fun of my mom while playing cards.
8. Making fun of me if my mother happens to be gone.

Well, when everyone was here for Thanksgiving there was no way we could pass up a few of these traditions. Bourbon slush? Good thing I had some left for everyone. Making fun of my mom? Easy (and done in love)! Playing cards?

Ah, playing cards.

Getting the four of us together while playing cards simply asks for trouble. The quips. The shouting. The insults. My sister and I generally fighting, poking, and prodding at each other. Everyone yelling at my dad, the human vacuum. Us making fun of my mom and them making fun of the way I say things.

It's a good time.

Occasionally those moments will crop up when the stars align and conditions are perfect for a moment that will forever live in everyone's memory. One such time happened about a dozen year ago while we were playing a game. Let's just say that an ample amount of caffeine and my inability to hold in a burp made the word "spades" one of the funniest sounds a human being has ever made. I'm serious. Just say the word "spades" around my father, and he'll dissolve into a fit of giggles and just repeat "spoooo," spUHoooo" over and over again (because that's what I sounded like).

And yesterday was another such moment. I love my family so much, and I love spending time with them. I now present to you one of my favorite conversations my family has ever had, past, present, and (I'm sure) future:

-

Mom:       What am I supposed  to do with these cards?
Dad:         I don't know, what am I supposed to do with these cards?
Me:          Mom, why don't you rub them together and see if they make something new?
Mom:       Ben, why don't we rub ours together and see if they make something new?
Dad:         We've already done that twice.

-

Need I say more?

A Thanksgiving post, obviously.

Ah, the obligatory Thanksgiving post.

Sometimes listing off all the things I'm thankful for can feel so trite, if I'm really honest, but this year I have so much to be thankful for. Some are small. Some are big. Some are familiar and constant, and some are new and exciting.

Now that my hands are clean after giving the turkey an olive oil rubdown (yes, you heard me), let's get on to the list!

1. Ready for the Superchurch answer? . . . Jesus!
I could say so much here, and it would never be enough. He has dictated every part of my life and He has never failed me. He is my bridegroom and my home, and He will never leave me.

2. My new home.
You've seen the house in posts before, so you know that it's pretty adorable. With limited options, I ended up getting a house better than I imagined. Not too big, pretty cute, and with enough projects to keep me busy, I couldn't have asked for more.

3. My new job.
I became a teacher because I knew I'd do well. I discovered that I love teaching. I get to go to school every day, talk about literature, keep things organized (and those of you who know me understand!), and hang out with kids all day. And make fun of them. And laugh at them. And seriously, I laugh and smile all day long. You've read some stories already, like this one and this one, and I'll always have more for you. I wake up each day excited for work, and I don't know many people who can say that.

4. My new town.
If I'm brutally honest (and let's face it, I usually am), I did not want to come here. I wanted to stay where things were familiar. Who wouldn't? But God said no and sent me here. And you know what? He totally knew what he was doing. I adore this place. The school. The feeling of community. New friends. My church. Knowing people and being known.

5. My new life.
God shut a lot of things down for me last spring. It was hard, to put it lightly. I thought my new life would be getting out into the world and moving to a big city. I thought teaching would simply be a short pit stop before my real life began. And I think that's changed. Crazy, right? I feel like I could stay here forever. Teach here forever. A man might steal me away someday, but until then, I think I'll be here indefinitely. And that's exciting!

6. Friends and family.
Not too much to say. Just that I love them so much and would not be the woman I am today without them. I have been so blessed, and I hope these pictures will show you why.

I love my dad. He taught me as a father and as a teacher. I learned most of my good teaching skills from him. 

And by him constantly berating me and putting me down, I learned how to hold my own. Love you, Dad!

My mother is one of my best friends which I never would have imagined in high school.

She taught me to love music, love people, and love decorating. And I love her.

Ah, Seeeester. We've hated each other enough for two lifetimes. Now we love each other. Always and forever. And look how pretty she is!

Oh my brothers in Christ. There are more of you, and I appreciate all of you. Your concern for my safety, my heart, and my life has blessed me. 

You show me such a picture of Christ's love, and reassure me that there are amazing and incredible godly men out there.

The last generation of the Bluff house. Some of the best years of my life with some of the best girls.

Oh, my dear Meghan. Your sweet and gentle heart inspires me. Your passion for your causes motivates me in mine (even if we're different).

You cut some mean hair and have fabulous taste. 

My little Sarah. You're like a surrogate little sister to me. And a friend. All rolled in one. Your obsessions make me giggle and my weirdness makes

you shake your head. We're a good pair, and I miss you.

Amy. Amy, Amy, Amy. You know my heart, and I know yours. Honestly, we get each other. And this picture

illustrates visually that we are twins mentally. 

 Ah Joyce, our tears and laughter have filled many precious hours of my life. I love you so much, my sister.

Saras, you are so fetch. And sweet. And I love that we became fast friends, and I'm sad that I'm no longer there with you. 

Kristy, you know my deepest heart, and I am honored to know yours. Thank you for all your words and encouragement. 

I am, and will always be, grateful for your hand in my life during this year.

Anna MinneMAN! I love you so much my darling. You are sweet and precious, and I am mean to you. It's the way it is. 

You're one of my oldest friends, and I love that we've seen each other grow over the years. No one's singing will ever more to me than yours.

Trust me, I could go on and on about people. You might even find some surprising. But I have to stop at some point! Suffice to say, the people in my life are incredible blessings every day. They energize me, encourage me, comfort me, challenge me, and love me. And I love them.

Happy Thanksgiving, friends!

I am NOT a hippie . . .

Ok, so you know how you're sitting in church and the pastor is speaking the sermon? It's all fine and dandy. He's doing well, the topic is interesting, blah blah blah.

And then suddenly, a verse pops into your head and you have to look it up right now or it'll be gone?

And then maybe you spend the rest of the sermon reading that verse and around that verse and about that verse and then you realize that you missed the entire sermon?

And yes I know that was a terrible run-on sentence but seriously. Give me break. I'll write the way I want here, thank you very much. I might even end a sentence with a preposition at. So there to.

If you laughed/got the joke above then you get extra credit.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand.

One of those verses hit me today. My quiet times have been centering around Hebrews lately, and a few weeks ago I went though one of my favorite passages, Hebrews 12:7-13. It contains one of my life verses, vs. 12-13:

"Therefore strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. Make level paths for your feet, so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed."

I love this passage/verse because of its no-nonsense approach to discipline. "Life is hard and it will stay hard. God will discipline you. It's because He loves you. So chin up and move forward so that you can set an example for others."

So great. Don't give me the feelings and the lovey-dovey stuff (yet another disappointment to womanhood on my part). Give me the hard stuff. Tell me to suck it up. Be a man---metaphorically speaking.

Well, naturally, the verse I turned to today in church contains similar physical imagery. I love it when passages contain these physical references. I imagine actually strengthening my arms and knees. And this verse has plenty. I'll actually give it all to you. It's 1 Corinthians 9:24-27.

"Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets a prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. No! I beat my body and I make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize."

I think I'm attracted to these verses about discipline because my faith is such an organic thing. I have discipline in many areas of my life, but my walk with God often lacks discipline. I gravitate to worship because of its freeing nature, yet I seek out Scripture about discipline and hard work. It's like my mind craves balance, otherwise I'd end up a crazy, hippie, Jesus-freak.

Not that that's bad. Oh goodness. I've just insulted someone. Sorry. Please go back to your chamomile tea and knitting.

But in all seriousness, my brain is so wrapped up in the thinking and the theology and the logic of my faith that my soul simply said, "I can't take it anymore!" and exploded in the feeling of worship music.

I miss the Challenge band.

Well. This post went in a direction I wasn't expecting. I do miss playing in a worship band, and I count the days until I can do so again.

Now if only I could fix my bow situation . . .

Why I love teaching, reason #423

Can I tell you something?

I don't know why I'm asking. I'm going to tell you anyway, and you have no way of stopping me considering that by the time you're reading, I've already finished the post. So if your answer to the above question was, "no," you better stop reading . . . now.

For the rest of you, I'm telling you another story about school. Hope you like the school stories because there sure are lots of them.

When I student taught I was with an incredible teacher, Mrs. MC. She told me great stories about her kids, including stories about letters she received from her kids during the school year and after they'd had her.

I absolutely hate admitting this, but I had trouble really believing that that many kids would write notes. I don't know. I never wrote letters to my teachers when I was in high school. I wrote dumb notes, but nothing substantial.

I guess that just goes to illustrate that I was a bit of a careless and self-absorbed teenager. Yep. That's about right.

It took getting plugged in to my community in Wichita to discover the power of sincere and encouraging letters. I still remember my first one. I read it and just thought, "Wow. This person cares about me so much. I want to share that feeling with others. I want to give this feeling back to that person."

Then I started writing notes. I fell in love with it. I discovered that I want to write notes all the time. For encouragement, to thank people, to wish them good luck, to say congratulations, or just because.

Ok, so take these two things and add them together, like this:

skepticism about students writing letters + my love of notes and what they mean = astonished and thrilled to get my first, real letter from a student


This letter appeared on my desk during lunch, and reading it made my entire day. My entire week. Maybe my month. It was sincere, thoughtful, honest, and encouraging. It was the kind of thing that I would have written to someone.

I would write you some of the letter here, but I don't want to risk embarrassing the student. You'll just have to take my word for it.

But you usually do anyway.

Great weekend . . . wait . . . what? Really?

Things from the wedding were great. They really were. A few rough patches, but otherwise great.

And I love people so much. It'll be really hard when I stop going back every weekend. I'm getting used to seeing everyone again!

On another note, I can now add a fifth terrible thing that God's heaping on my plate!

Ready for this?

So, way back when I had to buy another violin because mine got stolen and I bought something nice, including a nice bow? Remember that? No? Well, I'm telling you now.

Anyway, I bought a nice bow. One made out of pernambuco wood. Ever heard of it? It's OK. Not everyone is up to date on the different varieties of violin bow-wood. No biggie. Well, this particular word is rare and very good for violin bows; however, it is no longer legal to make new bows from this wood. You can resell the old ones, but you just can't make news ones. This bow? You guessed it. Old. Made from pernambuco wood. From the 1920's.

Ah me, I'm sure you can see where this is going, can't you? Gentle reader, you're so smart.

I played worship this morning for the first time in ages. It felt so good. I must have been playing extra hard or something because right in the middle of practice this morning the tip of my bow popped off of the stick.

You heard me. It didn't snap. It didn't crack. It literally popped off the rest of the bow, and the hair fanned out like a long, white firework. Except I didn't "ooo" and "ahhh."

Nope. I just stood there. No one else had noticed. The sounds of worship were still surrounding me as I cradled my now useless bow in my hands. See, the thing about breaking the tip of a bow is that it can't be fixed.

You can't just slap some Gorilla Glue on it and call it good. It's done for. I can save the fittings from the end, and that's about it. People were sad for me and sympathetic, but I'm not sure they can really understand unless they've played the violin before. If you've ever played, and you've ever gotten close to your bow (because, really, that's the thing that makes your instrument sing), you know exactly what I'm talking about.

Was I careless with the bow? Of course not! Was I misusing it? Never. It seriously was an out of the blue, ridiculously terrible, crazy, random happenstance.

I haven't even cried yet. I think I'm still in shock. And surprisingly, still in a good mood.

We'll see how long it lasts. I'll let you know.

Because I know you hang on every word.

I want to be fat . . . keep reading. It'll make sense.

Yikes. The last few days have slowly heaped on more bad things for me than I've had in the entire four months I've lived in my beautiful, small town!

First, I was again confronted with my own ugliness and selfishness. Thanksgiving is coming up, and it's a time for family, togetherness, and thankfulness, right? Well, it's also the time that MB gets the most selfish.

Let me explain.

I'm not one to invite people to family functions. I'm just not. I don't know why. I dated someone for six years and never even felt strange about not having him at Thanksgiving or Christmas. Those times are sacred to me somehow, and I just always figured I'd never invite anyone until he was officially part of my family.

Now, for those of you who are open and welcoming and inviting, that's strange. Don't worry. I understand. I've been informed that it's a little closed-off of me.

Well, my sister is one of those open, welcoming, and inviting young ladies, and she rightly wants to welcome her new boyfriend into our celebration. Now, past history aside, I should be fine with that.

Except, this year, the celebration is taking place at my house, making me the final decision-maker. I guess I didn't realize that I'd have to make a decision like that and that it would affect me so deeply.

I discovered that I didn't want him to come. I discovered that I am so selfish about it that I threw a tantrum because of it. Oh, you heard me. A literal tantrum. Crying, whining, accusing others, and saying phrases like "It's just not fair," and "How could you do this to me?"

Yikes.

Double Yikes.

Long story a little longer, I finally decided to let him come. And now I just have to whip my selfish and whiny butt into shape so that he feels welcome.

Second, our boys lost Sub-State last night. That was pretty rough.

Your first year as a teacher, you develop a strong bond with your first "batch" of students. And, naturally, since it's a small school, the majority of the young men are on the football team. And I already love football, so when we say our boys I really men our boys. My boys, even.

My heart just breaks for my senior guys. There's more pressure and history going on this year than most, for the town works in generations. The generation before won State, and now those men's sons are on the football team, and it was their year to win State. It was crushing for them on many levels.

So, I suppose this tough thing is not necessarily my tough thing, but their pain is pretty intense.

And I feel like a momma or a sister bear. My cubs are in pain, and I'm in pain for them.

Third, I got a speeding ticket last night.  Why? Oh, just not paying attention.

Yeah. I think that speaks for itself.

And now, it's all preparing me for this afternoon.

I love weddings, OK? Don't get me wrong. I tear up when almost every bride floats down the aisle. It's the smiles on their faces. You've never seen a woman look more radiant than on her wedding day. Perhaps the moment she gives birth, but more people get the chance to see more weddings than live births, so I figured that was a better event to put in first place.

But this wedding this afternoon will be rough. It will put me to the test. The monolith will be present. It'll be in person monolith time.

And I'm not sure how I'll handle it.

God's been throwing these rough things at me lately, and I think I've figured out why.

It's like I'm a big,juicy steak, ready to be thrown onto the flames. God is the chef. He's an excellent chef. He's tenderized me right up until I'm ready to go on the grill. He's going to do everything right.

But we'll find out if I have the proper marbling to be truly delicious, or if I instead am fat-free and end up tough and chewy. Gross.

Dear Lord, please let me be fat.

Side note: Want to see how it turned out?

The monolith has finally left my chest . . .

Something finally lifted from me on Saturday night. Something that's been lurking in the back of my brain and evading all my attempts to corner it and kick it out (much like my pesky cat when she gets under my bed. you think you've got her, but no. she simply rushes out and around to the other side.).

It's taken four months, but my bitterness has finally lifted and true forgiveness has settled into its place.

A few caveats for you:

1. Four months, you say? That's nothing! Well friends, let me tell you, that's like a lifetime to me. I am literally incapable of keeping a grudge or holding things against others. Usually bitterness just slides off me overnight, and I don't think I've ever dealt with it for more than a week--and trust me, that was tough. So imagine how hard four straight months has been.

2. I am 100% aware that the person I've forgiven doesn't even need to be forgiven. He technically did nothing wrong. But, you know, hearts just don't care about technicalities, do they? Can I get an amen?

3. I'm not going to go back into the details of the situation. One of the great things about true forgiveness is the fact that the book on that particular time is closed. I've learned my lesson, and I've stored it away, but I'm not going to rehash it here for your entertainment, so back off. Love you!


And now, on to the good stuff!

--

A lot of my readers don't know this, but this was what my life has looked like for almost the last seven years:

Looking at these pictures no longer pains my heart. 

I cherish the times we had. Life has moved us forward without each other, and I'm excited about that now. 

Honestly. 

New York Trip: Chris

Perhaps my favorite part of my trip to New York (which took place a full MONTH ago!) was the opportunity to see my bestie from high school. 

There was a time that Chris and I were inseparable. Joined at the hip. Finished each others' sentences. We've laughed together, cried (tears of laughter) together, and acted together. I've helped him postpone the heat death of the universe and he's raped me.

Wait, did she just say that? What does that mean? How are these people friends? What kind of site IS this? Unfollow, unfollow!

Calm down, people. It was in a play we did together, and my dad even showed him how to do it, so look: Dad approved!

. . . and then I just lost the last few who were hanging on. 

Either way, Chris is incredibly dear to my heart, and I was dying (and a little nervous) to see him after SIX whole years without actually being in each others' presence. 

I tell you, that first hello was awkward.

A stilted hug, figuring out what to do with Chris in a beard, dealing with the fact that we're both working ADULTS (yikes), and wondering why his voice sounds weirdly different. Not to mention that our reunion was happening in the press room at New York Comic Con, which, of course, made things even more awkward.

Also, the first night out was a little tough. Blaring music can make catching up with a long-lost friend difficult for even the most dedicated reminiscer.

But things leveled out, and Saturday evening and Sunday were so great. We argued over who would cover the checks, ate Pad Thai, drank some delicious beverages, hung out with his coworkers and (perhaps) friends, enjoyed the city, and talked about all our favorite subjects: love lives, food, TV and film, people from high school, and the Chiefs.

I finally got to meet his lady, but the first meeting was awkward. I was holding down the floor of their living room, so my first night in the city I bunk down AFTER she's already gone to sleep upstairs. So my first meeting with his pretty girl was uncomfortable. But things finally even out on Saturday evening. She's everything I'd imagine for Chris.

Repping the Chiefs shirt at the Potato Famine Memorial in lower Manhattan. That's how we do.

It will doubtless be awhile before I see my friend again, but hopefully it won't be six years. 

The best part about the weekend? Falling back into the familiar banter which defined our friendship during our time at LSHS. 

Some things never change, and I am so incredibly grateful for it. 

New York Trip: The City

Ah, the city. The City. I love the city.

The first step out of the subway station was an instant onslaught of dirty pavement, rushing crowds, old grease, new grease, honking horns, and so much more. The smell of old asphalt. One hundred different aromas from one hundred different eateries. Barely a sliver of blue in the sky.

Instant. Love.

I found myself telling people that I either need a tiny town or a gigantic city. I've discovered that suburban life does not suit me. I need to feel connected to something.

*Small town: connected to people, community, values, and school.
*Huge city: connected to culture, life, events, the world on a large scale.

*Suburbs: connected to . . . my house, my SUV, and my kids' activities.

You know, part of the reason I do not connect with the suburbs seems to be their focus on material things. Shopping? Acquiring things? Upgrading? Not for me.

Now, you might think this would make someplace like New York City a difficult place to love, for it's a very status-driven place, but honestly, I love it. I felt no pressure to fix my clothing or my status.

I love being able to walk block after block and see every skin color, hear dozens of languages, and find something new on every corner. I love the opportunity to see the newest, most independent films and hear the freshest music in person.

My word, and the food. The food.

My favorite foods in the entire world are not easy to find in Kansas, especially Western Kansas. Sushi and Pad Thai are not easy to find here, and I doubt anyone has even heard of Pho (much less knows how to pronounce it). And all of those can be found on practically every street in the great city of New York. I don't have to drive an hour to get Pad Thai and three to get sushi. And besides sushi, I managed to eat all of my favorite foods while I was in the city.

The Pad Thai was probably my favorite. It was a tiny hole-in-the-wall place with only four tables and the second-best Pad Thai I've ever had (no one can beat Siam in my ICT, what, WHAT?). The Pho was excellent as well (it was duck), but I'm a sucker for Thai noodles.

After leaving the Con around noon on Saturday, I decided to wander around the city. I didn't get too far before noticing a movie theatre. Well, you know me; I can't pass up a movie--especially if it's one I really want to see. And this one was, so I popped into the theatre to watch Buried.

So good. So raw. Terrifying, but not in a horror movie way. It's two hours of one man in a box. Sounds awful. Is actually amazing. And it's Ryan Reynolds. Not looking beautiful, just being an incredible actor.

Besides that, the rest of the time was spent just walking the city. I love walking. My feet became raw from all the walking, but it was more than worth it. Just seeing the skyline, the harbor, Lady Liberty, Ground Zero, and many other things made my trip fabulous.

And now, some pictures!

The city would be tough alone, though, so the next post will concern the last part of my trip: seeing Chris and reviving an old friendship, probably the best part of the entire trip.

Stay tuned!

New York Trip: Comic Con

My trip to New York began well. I flew on my own and with minimal fuss. I discovered that I love to travel by myself. Sometimes I can be a little anti-social, so the ability to move quickly from gate to gate, bury myself in a book on the plane, and not worry about losing my party was great for me. It would have been terrible to die alone, but luckily--no death.

Actually, I'm zombie MB and I'm writing this to you while I'm sitting here eating BRAINS.

Ok, lame. Sorry.

So, made it to the Big Apple. I was a little hesitant when it came to getting from Jersey into Manhattan (because I flew into Newark instead of JFK), but I made it quickly to the city and with relative ease.

After leaving Penn station, I decided that I would explore that side of town (middle West side) and ended up on the edge of the island about an hour later. I still hadn't found the convention center, however, which worried me. My phone was low on battery and my backpack was starting to get awfully heavy.

I decided to give it one last go, so I hopped onto the next street headed East and lo and behold, there it was. The conference center. Finally.

After waiting in line for about fifteen minutes, I finally had my press pass. Turns out that a press pass only gives you permission to enter everything; it does not give you a guaranteed seat to any event. Luckily I didn't have my sights set on any event that would be too difficult to enter.

Panels and Workshops


1. Justifying using graphic novels in the classroom

This was a great workshop, and I am so glad that I made it into the Con in time to attend. The presenters were regular educators and librarians (who probably felt a little out of place among all the costumes and booths) who had used graphic novels in their classroom successfully. Their students had really enjoyed the entire process and learned much more about literature throughout than most people might assume. I took an entire page of notes and cannot wait to get them typed up and put together. I don't think I'll be able to incorporate anything until next year for my regular English classes, but I can't wait to try some things with my Creative Writing kids. I think they'll enjoy it!

2. Trailers

I wandered into a screening of the latest trailers from some major studios. It wasn't necessarily what I would have chosen to attend, but I was actually waiting for the next panel (see event 3!). I saw a great trailer for Battle: Los Angeles, and the newest Harry Potter trailer. I also saw the trailer for Sucker Punch, which looks like it's going to be just that, but I'd already seen the trailer this summer. Once that was done it was finally time for the event I'd originally come to see.

3. Hanna panel

This panel was for a new movie coming out next March called Hanna. It's directed by Joe Wright (Pride and Prejudice, Atonement, The Soloist) and stars Saoirse Ronan (Atonement, The Lovely Bones) and Eric Bana (Black Hawk Down, Troy, Time Traveler's Wife). I will admit that I went to go see Bana in person, and he was even more handsome in person--even if he did have short hair (I prefer longer hair). What I wasn't expecting, however, was how good Hanna looks. I think it'll be a very interesting movie, and I'm sure I'll enjoy it since I've enjoyed everything wright has done so far.

4. The Floor

The Floor. Capital "f." Seriously, it was just one big maze of gaming and company setups, booths, shops, and other exhibitions (like a crazy section for the re-release of the Alien movies on Blu-Ray). To be honest, I found this the least interesting part of the Con for me. I wasn't really there to shop or to meet any artists, so I basically wandered around looking at everything. I did stop by Her Universe though, a shop I've loved for awhile now. I finally got my Empire Strikes Back thermal hoodie, my new favorite piece of clothing.

5. Sherlock screening

By far my favorite part of the Con. As soon as I saw the it was screening I made sure to have my butt outside and in line a full hour-and-a-half early. Since it's written by Steven Moffat and Mark Gattis (two people behind Doctor Who) I was quite excited for the quality of the writing. BBC America approached me to do an interview (I think the guy chose me because he thought my shoes were cool), and I even signed a release, but the doors opened early. I decided to forgo the interview so that I could get a good seat. The show started, and I was in heaven. I've never watched a movie with such a responsive and fun audience before! These people knew when to laugh, appreciated all the inside jokes, and clapped at all the right times.

That screening made me so excited I decided to invite my students over for the American premiere on PBS tomorrow night. I hope they enjoy it as much as I did, but if not, at least I tried.

Here are some pictures from the convention for you all:

I enjoyed my time there very much, but I realized that I'm positively mild compared to other fans. It helped put my geekiness in perspective. I spent my day there on Friday and half of my day on Saturday. That was plenty for me, and I feel like I got to see all that I wanted to see. All in all, I'd say it was a success.

Next post: 

The city