Untitled Story

I miss you already
        and
I miss 'our' chapter
        but
As I start to slam the book closed
        so
Unhappy with this ending

The Author reminds me
He is writing my book
    (If I let Him)

And it's not over yet

Perhaps we were only minor characters in each other's story
But will be supporting characters in someone else's book

Here's to happy endings...

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Why. Does. The. Belly. Need. Prayer?

Just posted something about bellies, and now I'm posting this. (Because I told Sharron I probably would post these two old posts from my drafts.) Probably I've written too much about bellies, so that's kinda awkward but...
---
I don't want girls rubbing my belly either.

In fact that is sometimes even more uncomfortable than guys rubbing it. Girls only occasional do so to me, and is more brief, so less intrusive.

Except in church when praying.

One of my friends recently said, "I hate, like, when someone pets my arm. And these people who have to be all over you all the time." She shuddered, "I am not a touchie person."

I made a mental note of her preferences, then said with a shudder, "Yeah well, I am a touchie person, but when people pray for my belly I feel assaulted."

Then that very night at church, "Put your hand on her belly and pray for her." I was told as the guy moved my hand. Usually it's men who tell you to do that. Because they are uncomfortable touching a lady's belly themselves.

But. Why. Does. The. Belly. Need. Prayed. For.

I could understand, maybe, if they were being prayed for a stomach cramp, but... It's like they think a lady's soul is stuck in their belly or something...

I moved my hand, to her shoulder. And someone moved it back.

So there I was with my hand on someones belly with, 'Awkward and squishy. Awkward and squishy. Awkward and squishy'  playing in my mind like a scratched C.D. Not comfortably squishy like pinching a fat roll just... just awkward (seriously I can not explain the horrible terrible awkwardness of praying for someone's belly.)

'I'll just pray for her belt' I told myself, and moved my hand to the wide belt over her waist 'much better.'

People pray for bellies all the time. AS IF it is normal. Or something.

If anyone prays for mine I stand there and waste my prayers on praying that they will leave.
Or tense up and try to keep the frustration out of my face.
I fight nervous laughter.
Or I step away.

Occasionally I continue praying even though my belly is being assaulted. Mostly only if I am really really feeling that the person is lead by God to pray for me.

Edit: Sunday (11-28-10) a lady was praying for me and grabbed my ribs just above my belly. It was still strange, but not horribly so. If your hands need to be in that vicinity my ribs might be an acceptable place for them.

If you see my belly being prayed for, feel free to mention my discomfort to the person and/or send them a link to this post after service. Please.

My Belly is Mine. Not Yours. Please Don't Touch It.

---
I know my rock hard abs fascinate you. Oh well.  Get over it. Go pet a turtle.

---

When I was 16 one of my best friends used to always grab me and force me still while petting my belly. And I fussed and fumed and pushed him away, but he just laughed. Finally I talked to his girlfriend, "Can you please, pleeeeease ask ____ to quit touching my belly?" So he stopped. (I'm sure she didn't like watching him always grabbing me either...)

I said that to say I would do so again. A mild threat I guess.

There is another guy who won't stop grabbing me again lately. Ugh it freaks me out.

So to you. (And yes I know that you know I have a blog)

I've already asked you to quit--Please do so.

My belly is off limits for you. I am definitely more cautious around the people who have grabbed my tush and boobs than those who pet my belly. I realize you don't feel that it is a big deal. Maybe even your wife doesn't care.

But I care. My belly is too much for you (a married man) to be rubbing. I realize that your belly is not important to you, and it has been explained to me by various people that acquaintances/friends rubbing each others bellies is the same as a handshake. *Shudder*

I don't consider you a creep. (Only because you are normal in other ways, and I feel your heart is clean.)

However, this particular behavior is creeping me out.

[Edit: I did talk to this recent guy's wife. Bla awkward. But it's over, so that's good.]

"PS: I'm Married" -not me

All the single people at one table. Couples who are friends together. Family's with kids together... (wedding seating arrangements.)

The brides high school best friend was assigned to a 'married-but-spouse-isn't-here-table'. When the other guests assigned to that table moved, and there were extra seats at the singles table, she came to sit there with us. (She knew me a little bit, and didn't know anyone else at the reception...)

One of the guys started talking to her. Not all, "Yeah baby you're hot." Just tastefully flirting--maybe he wouldn't call it that--but he was definitely interested in her, and had singled her out from across the table, was trying his best to keep her conversation, kept asking questions about her life, and was teasing her a little, you know... flirting.

Flirting is acceptable if you're single, or if you're flirting with your spouse or boyfriend or girlfriend.

But when you're married you shouldn't be flirting with people other than your spouse. And even if you're not married yourself, you shouldn't flirt with someone who is.

But she's pretty. He was attracted to her. That wasn't wrong of either of them.

Across the table she tried to get the point out. She started her sentences with, "My husband and I..." and "At my wedding."

"I'm only catching pieces of what you are saying." He leaned eagerly over the table toward her.

She put her hands on the table and started playing with her wedding rings, and holding them to the light to admire them.

It took a while, but finally he realized she was married. His eyes got big and he pulled back. But she left him with his dignity. And that impressed me.

I picture myself saying something blunt and horrid like, "By the way I'm married stop flirting with me."

What's sad is that Leah's first words when we were talking about it was, "Yeah you would say 'Dude I'm married. Quit flirting with me'. or something horrid and rude like that."

I'm going to learn tact.

Twinking / Try to NOT Upset the Parents

I feel like a bad friend today.

I've come to understand that matching is painfully difficult for some people. It doesn't bother me. Maybe because I grew up dirt poor, and we were lucky if our hand-me-downs were presentable. Maybe because my girlfriends used to try to match.
But I usually try to respect other people's feelings.

I was just making conversation.

"Ohh, I love your blazer. I need one." (I lost my black blazer in Pennslyvania)

"Um, uh I got it at Wal-Mart."

I had assumed Courtney had given it to her, and didn't think buying one was an option. But knowledge is power...

So the next week I bought one. And have carefully avoided wearing it around our mutual friends.

Just in case...

I got in trouble that way once. Sort of. Well not my trouble but it was a guilt trip lemmetellya... A different day. A different girl.

I was trying on hoodies.

"I have that one." she said.

"Does Rusty mean something? Is that someone famous? I really don't want to wear someone's name."  Everyone laughed at me and said no.

(I'm no skater chic. PacSun isn't my style. I was only looking because they were $5.)

I pulled it off the hanger, and tried it on, but she cringed so I asked, "Do you care if I have the same hoodie as you?"

And she said, "No."

But she didn't mean it. And I knew that, but bought it anyway.

She griped a little about 'twinkin.' Was a two-sided jacket. Designs on one side and purple on the other. Upon asking, she said she only wore the purple side outside, so I determined to wear the other side.

--2 weeks later--

"You have a jacket just like ____" It was her mom, "Why aren't you wearing it on the pretty side."

"Well ___  doesn't like to match." I said it matter of fact, then I caught her mom's face and said, "I really don't care though, I like this side."

She went all mama bear, but the other way around. "Honey you wear it on the pretty side! Turn that inside out right away!"

It was very awkward. And I tried to explain that I really was fine with the other side. And said I hadn't been told not to match.

But the next week the daughter was all, "I'm sorry." (I'm sure her mom fussed at her.)

It's no crime to not want to match.

Awkward.
Drama.

Bla. It isn't even a very cute hoodie.

47 Minutes at the Flea Market.

According to Grandma's memoir I'm part Scottish. Maybe that's why I love flea markets and haggling...

I don't care enough about a good deal to hunt out yard sales. Feels like I'm wasting $40 worth of time and $5 worth of gas. But on Saturday mornings when I don't have 5,000 things I should've done yesterday, I like to visit the flea market.

It's entirely different from the Sweetwater Flea Market where the booths never change year around, the sellers buy inventory quarterly, and have employees who are required to fill out tax forms.

I go to Midway Drive-In Theater where on Saturday mornings sellers pay $2 to spread blankets on the gravel. It's a yard sale style flea market with lots of people selling years worth of used and unused cast-offs accumulated from our wasteful American lifestyle.

(Also people who have probably been dumpster diving...)

I'm told, "To get the good deals you need to get there early." I scoff at that. Unlike yard sales this flea market rarely lasts till noon, around 9:30 buyers thin out and sellers want to go home. Most plan to donate their unsold items to Goodwill, so drop their prices. Plus I like to sleep in.

But about the dumpster diving guy... (Btw I have just now named him Blake, and shall hereafter refer to him thus when convenient.)

"$5 I’ll sell you this whole box for $5! What a deal!” He called out as I stopped at his table.

“I don’t need all this stuff.” I said before I shifted through the cardboard box of phone jacks and chargers, ear buds and headphones—all new and in their plastic boxes--before pulling out a package labeled wireless earbuds.

“I’ll give you $1 for this.” I told him.

“Only a dollar!” He griped, “ Three dollars, two fifty at least.”

“Oh whatever. You offered me the whole box for $5 we both know I could’ve bought this for fifty-cents.” I grinned and shook my head.

“Ohhhh, ok a dollar then,” Blake said. Then noting the $5 price he had written on the package sighed dramatically dropped his shoulders and shaking his head said, “The things I do for pretty girls.”

Just then a man came by and asked the price of two chairs.

“I’ve got to get rid of this stuff. Tell you what I’ll sell them for $20 apiece, but you’ve got to buy them both.”

The man nodded and reached for his wallet, but was interrupted by Blake’s wife who was sitting a few yards away. “$5 each for the chairs she yelled”

“Well $5 I guess then.” Blake said and grimaced in her direction.
---

Pictures of all the things I bought today [Edit: this was written in June, so like most of my posts "today" is not really today] after the jump

I Could Really Use A Change of Heart

"Where do you see yourself in 5 years?" he asked.

Self conscious, I slouched a little down the wall, "I would like to be married."

"Do you plan to keep a job after you're married?"

"Until I have kids." The thought of staying home with children all the time is not an exciting thought to me. But I believe that the parents should raise their children not the grandma. (When beliefs and desires conflict; I usually stick to beliefs...)

"I was thinking that, so theres not a lot of point of you going to school."

"Weeeeell 5 years ago I wouldn't have expected myself to be still single today, soooo."

"But that was by choice right? You could be married by now if you wanted to."

'Shove it in my face man... Yes. I walked away from everyone.'

I was busy, they didn't suit me, one (or 8) of my friends were in love with him and I didn't want to destroy my girl friendships, or I was scared...or my heart was otherwise occupied, so I didn't give anyone else a chance.

Mostly the heart-being-otherwise-occupied thing.

I'm everything or nothing; either intensely in like, or planning my escape. Usually both simultaneously. I hate that. Blast this.

What is the matter with me?

Say it, but say it nicely

Or don't say it at all.

Unless you can discuss things with a right spirit you need to not talk about it.
Recently I was texting someone. He had asked and said he was trying to figure out, "If people's beliefs are based on the Bible, their upbringing or their own personal beliefs." He was curious, but mostly was looking for a way to prove me wrong. (T'was about my belief that thighs should be covered.) Said he couldn't find any verses.

So I sent him a few.

He started writing with all caps I felt like he was yelling at me, and got defensive. "I'm sure it's in the Bible for a reason." I said. That was true, but also very snotty sounding.

I don't know if it is shame I am feeling, or just the burn of knowing that I was not perfect.
(Remorse is healthy. Obsessing about a minor mistake is not.)

It is important to treat people kindly. Life as a Christian isn't about having the quickest come backs and the best arguments.

Feeling defensive is not a good reason to sound snotty.

I'm sorry.

Of Biking and My Awesome Neighbors

'The Bicycle Girl'

That's what some of my neighbors call me. When I'd not ridden for a while several of them mentioned that they'd been praying for me and had requested prayer at their small family church because, "We knew something was wrong."

Last week I met one of them in town at a car show, "This one." He said turning to my friend, "We usually see her 2 or 3 times a week." Then turning to me, "Where have you been?"

"My bike. It has a flat."

"I have an air compressor. Come by anytime when you see me working outside, and I'll blow it up for you."

I would say I was surprised, but I wasn't. They're neighbors and it was like him to offer.

"Sweet! Thank you! It's not just flat; it has a hole. I can fix it, but do you have water?" Was trying to find out if I needed to lug a bucket or just carry my patch kit...

Yesterday when I came home from work, Mom said, "There's a surprise for you in your room."

A new small sturdy air compressor with blue air tubes.

From my neighbors.

(I will conquer you) I Want Straight Hair

Not for always. Love my curls.

I just want straight hair to be an option. Without having kinks stage a successful takeover two hours after I leave the house.

Preferably also without 3 days preparation time.
I just want to look nice. If I can't make straightened hair look good why bother. (For a long time I've stayed curly.)

But I'm tired of curls.

So I've been experimenting with  my straightening routine (on days when I won't see people.) I now know how to get my hair to stay reasonably straight, but it's still really big.

Here are some pics of my straightened hair.


Sigh.

And you think that's bad? That's not all my hair. All this is still in the back, I'm like a walking hairball...

I didn't allow myself to stay home, (Yay me.) but I had to pull it back which worked, but made straightening it a waste of time... 

Lately...

Half the time I think, 'Wow, its really nice of them to put up with my beliefs.'

And it is. And I know that.

But lately I really wish I had friends who share my values. Rather than just those who cope with my having them.

I should try to cultivate some closer friendships outside of my usual circles.

Probably.
Definitely

Sigh.

I Shall Call it My Funeral Purse

6:20: home from work and running up the steps 2 at a time. The funeral started at 7:00, and was who-knows-where in Athens. Threw a black outfit onto my bed, then onto my body. Then deodorant (or did I forget that?) Brushed my teeth, used salicylic acid cleansing pads on my face.

6:29 out the door: hoping my brother knows how to find this place. Stepped into Josh's car and used smoothing cream on my frizzy curls. Moved my wallet and a few important items from my messenger bag style purse and into a classy black clutch.

6: 46 made it to Ziegler's Funeral Home: breathed a sigh of relief to be early rather than late.
---
I never met him, but Ross was in his 60's, and mentally handicapped all his life. His mom, who he had lived with all his life, died last month. Everyone said, "He is happier in heaven."

...I'm really glad we went, because I love his family a lot, and staying helped them to know it.
---
"We are ready to start the service," the funeral director said into his mouthpiece, so everyone was seated, and the piano player (Tabitha Scott) began a song.

Everyone sat quietly except the lady on the other side of Josh. She started emptying her purse's contents onto her lap, then shoved it across his lap and into mine, "You like small purses?" she whispered loudly.

"Uh huh," then trying to be polite whispered, "Yours is nice,"

"Enjoy it," she said, adding emphatically, "I can NOT carry a small purse!"

'Oh, she is giving this to me,' it sunk in.

What do you say to someone who gives you a Prada purse in the middle of a funeral?

I panicked inside.

You know how it is when people give you something (especially something expensive) and expect you to fall madly in love with the awesomeness of the wonderful amazing gift and will periodically ask to make sure you tuck it into bed with you after kissing it goodnight? But you are just 'meh' and wondering how fast you can toss it without them knowing.

I was afraid it would be like that.

So I said, "Are you sure? It's nice, but I don't know for sure if I'd carry it."

She grinned and replied, "That's fine. You don't have to keep it. Give it away. I don't care. Just take it."

I said thanks, and she turned her attention back to the funeral.

While I stole glances at the purse in my lap.

'Structured' was my first thought. 'Alligator leather' was my second. Then 'Not my style.'

'But oddly enough I rather like it.'

-Happiness

Life is still worth living without a boyfriend

Another several-months-old post from my drafts...

There was a Sunday recently that Pastor ended his sermon talking about how, "Our young people lately have felt pressured to date someone... Our young people need to not settle for just anyone breathing."

I stayed in the back, and scrunched my face up thinking about the time we were talking about couples, and I had said "Life is still worth living without a boyfriend. It's still good." The girl had answered, "Not really. It isn't. Not hardly."

Then she started dating a boy and proclaiming her love and adoration for him all while mournfully saying things like "I've crossed the tracks. My life is going downhill from here on out," in reference to her relationship....

So there I was annoyingly thinking pitying thoughts about him. When my brother-in-law came over to me. Where I was standing. And prayed for me. Just by myself. He looked so sincere, and was praying So loudly.

About that subject. About not settling for a not good enough guy....

About me.

I stood there feeling my face get red... Afterward I laughed awkwardly, and told him, "I'm not settling. I'm not even dating anyone right now. What was that for?.."

Yeah anyway awkward.

But what is settling to you?

Do Things Poorly: In Defence of the Mediocre

My latest goal (well one of them) is to do things poorly.

(That's just the way I word it to myself, so that I remember.)

People talk about perfectionism as if it's a wonderful glorious thing. As if perfectionists do everything perfectly, and thus are perfect.

That's not true.

Perfectionists often skip important things because they aren't smart enough or skilled enough to do that thing perfectly. Or they wait until, "I have time to do a good [perfect] job."

Sometimes they take so much time doing an awesome job, but instead could complete three mediocre jobs in the same time frame... And have some spare time.

Do things poorly

Spare time. Coming right up.

I hope.

Organizing...(And Giving Some of My Clothes Away?) AKA My NonMinimalistic Lifestyle Take 2

My clothes rod fell down last week.

My closet is not set up correctly; one of the clothes rod holder things was not there when I inherited the bedroom. It's a faulty rod setup. That's true. I promise. Here is a picture.

But it fell because it was overloaded.

Mom suggested I use an extra dresser; she also mentioned using the rack that Hannah had used for some of her clothes, but I keep picturing in my head the room a friend/acquaintance's description,

"I shop a lot. Besides my bedroom closet I have an extra bedroom just for clothes, and I have 3 of those big round metal racks that are in stores... I still have to go through it about once a month though and bag up 3 of those big black garbage bags full of clothes to give away every month."

(If I knew her better I would've asked for one or two of those black trash bags of hand-me-down clothes. She buys expensive clothes. And extra clothes racks are tempting.)

But I cringe at the thought of becoming like that. (Ouch!) I spend very little on clothes; I'll never have her credit card payments, but--

Obviously I have too many clothes for my closet. I do have room for another dresser or two since I moved out the spare bed and Hannah's dresser, but I don't want another dresser. I would probably only end up using it for papers and books anyway. (I hate putting clothes in drawers...) I also dislike the thought of another clothes rack. It reeks of losing control, and giving in, and OCD, and my acquaintance whose extra room (turned closet) I am writing about.

In February I wrote about my solution here. "If I don't wear an item within a year I will lose it." I told myself.  Then I turned all my hangers backward to keep track.) It was brilliant. And simple.
But...

My year is only 2/3rds over, and I have worn almost everything.

Before I freed the rod from the grasping hooks of my white plastic hangers I pulled all clothing out that was on backward hangers out, and set them on top of my hamper. There were just a few things and I easily dropped them into my giveaway box.

Surprisingly I had worn almost all of the clothes in my closet.

The hanger challenge did help me purge unnecessary clothing. It just happened sooner than I expected. I gave away clothes each month because I noticed the things that weren't being worn, and that helped me to realize that I didn't need them.

I was somewhat disappointed to not have a big closet clean out day, but it was very painless.

That means I need all my clothes right?

No. I don't. I need for my closet rod to not keep falling. I need my life to be organized.

Tell me I'm not the only one.

"So are you going to that church in Maryville tonight?" Daniel asked Sunday.

(My sister and brother-in-law are very worried about my singleness. They think I will meet a guy there...)

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm broke out."

"Let me see your face." It was a demand not a question.

"Two Pimples. How tragic." Shalom said sarcastically. "That is nothing. You're freaking out over two pimples. Don't you normally get a few every month?"

"No, I don't! I use a face mask a few days before and stay clear."

So I went to my usual Sunday night church, Bethesda (And yes there are handsome guys there, but they've seen me at my roughest already, so it doesn't make much difference...)

Still I did not hang out afterwards. Even though I was asked a lot of times, and one of the guys said, "Come with?" in a sad begging little boy voice. Begging is better from masculine men.  :)

Do you let your bad hair/skin day get in the way of your life?

I tell myself that sometimes its ok--Just not all the time. And I'm not allowed to completely avoid everyone non related to me just because I don't feel pretty.

So My Overloaded Clothes Rod Crashed... Again

"Will you fix my closet please?" I looked up at him with big sad eyes.

I always ask Seth or N8 when I need help. Truthfully any of the brothers would help me, but N8 & Seth screw things/carry heavy objects/kill bees without having to remind them a lot of times. And they don't make fun of me for asking.

(Well except that time I had a nightmare about sock snakes. They ALL still laugh at me 4 that...)

I don't feel like I am a bother to them. (Or at least not much of a bother...)

But my clothes rod fell several times while I shared a closet with Hannah. Plus once since she moved out. It's not the first time I've asked for help putting it back up. So I kinda expected some ragging...

"Again!" Seth said, then turned to a sibling (I can't remember which one.) "I'm not fixin' that thang til she gets rid of some stuff. 500 lbs of clothes and she wonders why it keeps fallin'..."

Actually I've never wondered why it falls. I've always known I have too many clothes on the rod. The Libbey part of me wanted to prove that his statement incorrect, and I could have, but when you want something from someone you are not to argue with their beside-the-point logic. (Pick your battles; I learned that in church.)

One side of my mouth turned down, "I did take some things out," I said quietly, hung my head sadly, and slouched my shoulders in mock defeat, (FYI: My shame and sadness were not faked only exemplified.)

It didn't work.

Actually he was still going to fix it.
I know he would've.
He always does.

But just in case... "If you fix my closet I'll go to town and buy you candy!"

Libbey's love candy A LOT. According to Leah's facebook page she loves candy more than she loves me. That's sad :(

"Naw I'll fix it. For free. You don't even have to give me candy."

And he did.

I feel very loved.

I went to town and bought candy anyway. Then I ate it all.
That's sad :(

2009 Goal (well one of them): Take more Pictures

 Looking at pictures lately...

Why is my neck at that weird angle?

Must I always wrap my arms around people's waist when I am photographed with them? I look like I'm enthusiastically squashing them to death...Creepy

I need to look at the camera when a picture is being taken. My smile is great. My face is facing the camera, but.... my eyes are darting in the opposite direction.

Dude I need to straighten my shoulders. Do I usually slump like that?

I should have put my heels back on on; that dress drags.

Whats with all the junk in the background?

Plus

Dead pictures haha. I <3 them.

That day was so much fun.

My eyebrows are considerably nicer now.

My life is really cool. Look at all the neat things I've done lately.

I love my friends.

Memories...
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"Take a picture with me," Sharon said pulling out her cell phone.

"Right now? In the middle of Wal-mart??!!" I asked, cringing slightly as shoppers milled past.

She glanced down the aisle we were standing in, "Yeah, I don't think anything of it... I do it all the time. Shell and I take pictures everywhere."

I glanced awkwardly around, "OK. Sure." then I bent at my knees so my face would be closer to her level. (I have a lot of short friends. Really, really short friends...)

She took 3 or 4 pictures; they were all off focus or blurry or showing only half of each of our faces.

"Last one." I said, and cheesed one more time. "If this one doesn't work I'm giving up."
------------
I should let people take pictures with me. I know that. I like pictures. It's just... I am showing my age I know, but taking pictures in the middle of Wal-mart feels so weird.
------------

Leah isn't really any more photogenic than me. She does have self portrait skills, holding the camera up and centering herself perfectly. But the real reason she has so many more pics is because she takes the time to take pictures. A lot of them.

A piece of that is really weird and awkward to me.

But I would like to have more pictures. So, yeah, my latest goal is to start taking pictures more often. I'm a little too old to be making Wal-Mart my personal photo booth, but elsewhere you know.
----------
I wrote most of this post in 2009.
------
After the jump: a few pictures from after our formal dinner.

I shall name this post Spots

This is me...

I'm 25. My face shouldn't still be an oil slick.

But...since my sebaceous (oil) glands forgot to notice that I've grown up I gotta work to keep my face clear.

And I do. And it is.

(mostly)

But sometimes I break out :o

When that happens

I don't cry or scream. Thats childish.

Instead I pout. (How mature of me...)

In this pic I have the Proactive refining mask dotted on my face. (I don't use their skincare line; just the mask.)

...But one night I had dotted a little on a couple of breakouts and forgot to wash it off in the morning. So uh... I went to work with spots. "Um Esther you've got toothpaste on your face," Jeff said.

So now I use Mario Badescue's drying cream. They gave me the cutest samples a year ago. (Probably I love the tiny containers more than the products--Weird me.) The drying cream works really well though, It's a little too yellow, but blends with my skin color, so I can get away with wearing it throughout the day. I'll probably buy some when I use up this sample, but it should last another year or two, since I rarely need it.

So Tiny!! See the size comparison with a bobby pin. Adorable!!

------------

"Esther why are you posting this?"

"The pic? To go with my post-- besides you told me to take more pictures."

"This wasn't what I had in mind when I told you to start taking more pictures."

"My cheeks are cute anyway. Look how fat they are."

"Avoidance. You are avoiding the subject."

*Sigh*

"Is it really a good idea to mention all your skin care stuff? Shouldn't you pretend to never do anything and still have perfect skin?"

"You want me to lie?!!" *gasp*

"Omitting those things isn't lying; it's tact--and you know it."

"Get over yourself. It's a funny picture."

"Whatever, ok keep the picture, but it's more than just about the picture... You should think about it. Didn't one of your mentors tell you to never tell anyone about any of your flaws?"

To be continued

"--Um No. Not to be continued.."

"I wasn't talking to you."

---
The best thing about arguing with myself?
I usually win.
The worst thing... I tend to lose

Fears: (Not like I have them or anything, but I can always write about other people's...)

At church last night after the preaching Pastor said people who were struggling with fear should come up to the altar to pray & be prayed for.

"I probably should go," my friend said with a frustrated sigh, "But I really don't want to."

"Want me to go with you?" I asked. "Because, you know, I will."

So we walked up there, and yeah it was actually a little awkward.

Except for a few people everyone just bunched up and prayed for other people because they didn't have the nerve to admit that they wanted/needed prayer their own self. They were afraid to admit that they are afraid I guess.*

'People will think I am battling fears. Hmmm,' I briefly tried to figure out what fears they would decide I was fighting. (I crack myself up all the time by thinking about what other people are probably thinking. I'm sure it's not normal, but whatever, it's hillarous.... Click here for a story about my past awfulness on that subject.)

I did actually pray for my friend also.

Then I was all trying to think of something I was afraid of. I went through a list of things people are afraid of and mentally crossed them off. 'Yeah, I'm not afraid of anything.' I told myself then remembered 'Oh. Yeah. That.' I froze inside a little bit then was all, 'Whatever not really. I'm over that now.'

At least mostly

Sisters and Weirdness & 'Just Friends' Friendships

Jumped off on this random story, so decided to give it a separate post.
Has been years since I did this, but I still think it's funny.

---

It had been a few weeks that my sister Shalom thought I had a crush on one of my guy friends. (I actually did, and do, adore him but you know not 'like that'.) She wouldn't come right out and say "I think you like _____." But was always saying little things to that effect, and looking all sly and saying, "I know a secret," or "I know who Esther likes," anytime I was around him or his name came up.


After a time I decided to play with her. Partly because I decided it would be funny and partly because I preferred her not to figure out who I actually did like, so she couldn't embarrass me by accidentally announcing my personal preferences to the world. (See previous paragraph.)

So...

When they were both around I would pretend to like him. Not enough for him to think I liked him but just enough to lead her on. (Honest it didn't take much. I just looked at his face a little longer than other peoples and smiled benignly anytime he said anything. I only had to do that when she was looking at me.)

(I can't remember who he was in love with at the time, but it wasn't me. And he didn't notice, and I didn't hurt or confuse him, because he didn't notice... And I would not hurt him. And it's wrong to hurt people just for my own amusement. I know that.)

After a month or so she started to say, "Yeah I've known for a long time that you liked _______."

I would answer with, "No. Just as a friend. It's not like that."

"You can't fool me." She would reply.

Leah thought it was really weird.

I thought it was really funny.

Probably my humor is warped. Not like perverted warped, just all the twists and turns of my psyche are odd.

Hmmm

I've had that for 7 months and still haven't worn it / New With Tags

Yeah, I buy things and then don't wear them for months and months.

If you were expecting I-am-so wasteful-to-buy-things-and-not-wear-them guilt then you should look elsewhere.
 
I buy out-of -season stuff;  I look for sandals in winter and closed toe shoes in spring.

Leah says, "Even though I know it's a really good idea, buying things off season makes me sad because I can't wear what I buy. It's like I spent my money and got...
                                                                                       ...
                                                                                         ...
                                                                                             nothing."

Me? I love off season sales.

There are 4 new short sleeve shirts that I've had in my drawer since winter. Sure, I've not been able to wear them, but I spent less on all 4 of them than most people will spend on one.

and


2 weeks ago I bought a peacoat for $12; it is still in the bag, still has tags, and is laying on the evil spare bed. I won't wear it for at least 7 months, but I'm still really glad I bought it. I had been wanting a dressier coat for a couple of years.

La la la (That is is happy sound of my heart singing.)

-----

This is such a boring post. Sigh.

Everything I write lately is either too boring or too personal to post. So yeah, today I have given my blog the boring thoughts because it had gotten lonely. Sometimes a boring conversation is better than silence.

Learning to Listen like a Girl

A friend was complaining about me once and said, "If a murder had just killed a person Esther would find something good to say about it like 'Oh at least he didn't splatter blood everywhere'..."

There is a silver lining on every cloud. They say.

I usually find it.
Sometimes I shouldn't.
Because apparently that annoys people.

Sometimes girls don't want to hear about how p(r)etty their problems are or how easily they could be solved. Sometimes they just want you to lay on the grass and listen to them describe the clouds as they float through their life.

I'm trying to learn how to do that.

---

Soda Pop Tab Belt Instructions & Picture Tutorial (Using Ribbon)

You will need

1 Hour

1/4" wide ribbon
pop tabs
candle
matches

You’ll need approx 3 tabs per inch of belt not counting the ties… (This will vary depending on how you cross your ribbons and tabs.)

My ribbon is 1/4" wide from Wal-Mart, ($0.40 for 10 yards on a spool; can't beat that. Just buy a spool of whatever color/s you want.)

Wash and rinse the soda can tabs, then allow them to dry.

Pull off any remaining circle things that attached the tabs to the can

Measure 18” of each ribbon, then knot them together (These 18” will be used to tie the belt)

(Knot at 18 inches pic)

Now measure the waist of your favorite skirt/pants. Double the length of the waist and add that length to the 18” (e.g. skirt waist is 29” so 58” should be added making 76" is the total length of each ribbon) (18 + (29*2) = 76)

Cut both ribbons that length.

Step 1) Slide the 1st tab onto the longer lengths of ribbon before the knot. 

The ribbons should go over the left side of the tab and inside the holes (The smooth side of the tab should be facing up)

The bigger hole should also be up

(anchor tab in place pic)

Step 2) 2nd tab--lay it in place behind the other one. The rough side should face up/toward the other tab.

(2nd tab in place pic)

The ribbon should go behind the left sides of the 1st tab and through the center holes from behind (The smaller hole of the 2nd tab should be facing up. The bigger hole of the 1st tab should be facing up.)

(2nd tab action shot)

(2nd tab side shot)

While stitching through the 2nd tab the ribbon should go through the center hole of the 1st tab

(the back tab will hold it in place)

(ribbon through 1st & 2nd tabs pic)

Step 3) 3rd tab—lay it in place (Pretty side up) (See how the holes overlap?)

(3rd tab in place pic)

For a regular 'stitch' take the top ribbon through the top holes, and the bottom ribbon through the bottom holes

(1st reg top stitch action shot pic)

Finished stitch

(finished reg stitch pic)

If you keep making this kind of stitch, you will have a belt like this on both sides (except the top color will be all one ribbon and the bottom color all the other ribbon)

(reg stitched belt pic)

I make mine with X’s by crossing the ribbons, (because it’s prettier)

Step 4) To make an X stitch take the bottom ribbon, and stitch it through the top holes

(beginning X stitch pic)

Then stitch the top ribbon through the lower holes

(completed X stitch pic)

I usually do regular stitches on one side and x stitches on the other, so my belts can be worn on either side if you want to change things up. But sometimes I mix x stitches and straight stitches.

Keep doing step 2 and step 3 or 4 until your belt is long enough.

You can do all ‘X’ stitches, all straight stitches, or a mix of both. You can also leave all the bigger ends of the tabs facing up for a slightly more fragile—and more delicate looking—belt. (Thats how I did the belt in the top pictures--Aka Sharron's belt.)

So when you have all the tabs you want on, knot the ribbon to your last pop tab. You should have some ribbon left.

Cut this ribbon off at an angle then seal the end by holding up to an open flame. (This prevents fraying.)


Don’t hold the ribbon in the flame; just hold it close to the flame at an angle. You should be able to see the end melt/draw up a bit. Melt the ends of the 18" that are used to tie the belt also.

After the jump more info for picky people like me

3-20-10 7:00 PM

Trying to cope with the shadows of his fear

This is not my battle, yet somehow it is

I don't know what I'm afraid of

Or maybe I do and am also afraid to admit it

Missing not knowing what that was like

Libbey Potty Humor

Spades.

Leah was losing badly. Libbeys, we like to win.

"You sunk. I make you sink" He he he Seth laughed.

"Well you're just a pooper scooper." Leah said mock glaring at Seth and dumping her tricks in the pile to be shuffled before continuing, "You're not even the guy doing the scooping. You are the scooper. The plastic thing--That's what you are."

Seth promptly replied, ""Really? Well guess what you are. You." He left a short dramatic pause before continuing, "Are the poop."

Leah sputtered a bit while we all giggled (Surely she know she was already beaten in this word war.) But she replied, "Well you are the poop still in the horses butt then."

"At least I'm warm." was Seth's retort. "You're all cold and chunky."

Of Stepping Stones & White Out

It is painful to be white-outed out of your life. But if your part of our friendship was solely based on your plans for a relationship with my brother it was only a stepping stone to the path your parents had chosen for you.

Rather than a real friendship.

Stepping stones aren't of themselves bad things, and walking on them isn't evil, but people aren't stepping stones.

At least they shouldn't be.

Congrats on your new boy, new future, new life, and new friends.

Bye

Dating Vs Courting

When I first started attending my current church I was startled by how many references the pastor made to courting. He doesn't talk about it much now, but back then was at least every week if not every service.

One day I was at a fast food restaurant with some people from church. I was sitting quietly when suddenly a boy (the P.K. actually) turned to me and asked, "Do you believe in dating or courting?"

I barely know you... I thought glancing his shoulder to see the pastor intently listening. Awkward, uh, what to say, what to say. I shifted through my thoughts...

• A: The boy I like lives in GA and I like him, but I don't want him."
• B: 'My dad wouldn't want me to date yet anyway."

or '

• C: "I'm happily flirting with everyone right now?'  

No. no one understands A without a detailed explanation. (And I so wasn't giving a detailed explanation.) B would be completely uncool for the boy to hear and C would be way awkward for the pastor to hear.

So I just said, "I don't know yet."

He was suitably impressed by my honesty, and the pastor gave me a friendly-understanding-but-perhaps-somewhat-disappointed smile from behind the boys shoulder before turning away.

My (then) best (church) friend and I always wondered what exactly courting meant--To the pastor. I mean he always preached about it, but what did that mean? Definitely meant no sneaking off to make-out at youth camp lol, but what did you do?????

So we asked.
Actually I asked.
I can't remember exactly what he said.

Sorry.

You'll have to ask for yourself.

---------

Some years later in the middle of our 10 millionth discussion about dating Vs courting the same guy turned to me on the way home from this 6 flags trip. "So what do you do if you haven't decided yet [if you want to marry the person]?"

"You date them to find out." I replied.

Nuff said.

Cancer again

The next week I was walking by and saw Tyler standing by himself holding Becca's purse, "I heard about your mom. How is she? How are you?"

He told me, "It doesn't look good" He said, "It's all I can do to get up in the morning."

I told him I had been praying for his mom. It felt trite and forced, but it was true and it was a good thing to say (I guess.) I stood there semi awkwardly for a few minutes before I walked away.

I think I did pretty well there, for not knowing him and all, but that was almost the last thing I said to either of them.

Wondering what I should do besides pray. I can't fix things, and I know that God can. I know God can comfort people better than I ever could,--

--but I also know that we aren't supposed to leave everything to God...

Remembering those times when I was hurting and certain people said or did just the right thing to make my heart feel a little better.

I would like to be that person.

But its hard to know how to not just stand there awkwardly. It's hard to know what to say to people.

Cancer

"I need you to Pray, Tyler's mom has cancer," Becca told me yesterday her face was streaked with pain and tears.

The girl with her was relieved for a chance to get away and hurried off. (I can understand that to a point; raw emotion and streaky eyeliner can be awkward.)

Mostly for me, though, it's just hard to know what to say or do.

I listened to jumbled words and phrases like, "Don't know what to do." "It's spreading" and "Nine months to live."

I stayed, but I'm not sure if I was very comforting.

I don't know his mom.

or him.

We say, "Hi," on ocassion, but thats about it.

I know that he's 17.

I know Becca loves him, and I know that they are both hurting a lot.

Because 17 is too young to be imagining life without your mom.

And I do care, but I'm not so good at showing that I care.

Becca is not sad like she used to be sad (imo.) But how are we supposed to love people like they need to be loved?
----

?

Clothes, Hangers, and My NonMinimalist lifestyle

One of my friends is always saying, "I prefer a minimalist lifestyle." I nod agreeable until she says, "I have only 2 pairs of jeans and 5 shirts, and I like it that way."

Then I'm all, "Huh? Um, ok" and try to hide my horror.

'I've been shopping with you; why buy so much if you're going to toss these things in a few months.'

Later on those nights, after she has been talking about her minimalistic lifestyle, I stand and admire the many colors of shirts in my drawers, and all the different shades of denim in my closet, and I feel very happy. (It's like that time my friend told me she was allergic to chocolate, and I savored my hollow milk chocolate bunny with extra appreciation.)

What I'm saying is: I like having lots of clothes--I'm not about to give away 2/3rds of everything that I own for the sake of minimalism. (I'm sure that lifestyle is awesome--for you--(I guess) It's not at all what I want.)

(I do not have as many clothes as Josh or N8, but that's not saying much lol...)

Because Shoes = Happiness!

Still

My closet is almost full, and I refuse to put any clothes except work shirts, pajamas, and underclothes in my dresser drawers, (I hate ironing....) And there is just too much stuff in my room.

So I need to get rid of some of my clothes.

My solution:

Last week I washed all my clothes, hung them up, and then turned all my hangers backward. After I wear something and it's been washed, I hang it up with the hangers facing normal. This way I can see what I've been wearing and what is just taking up space.

Within a year (from last week) I will have to get rid of anything on a backward hanger. (I am excusing the 1 formal dress that I own from this purge.)

Today I added this event to November 8, 2010 on my google calendar "Must Give Away any clothing I haven't worn (AKA Backward hangers)" clicked on options and requested a SMS (text message) reminder to be sent to my cell at 5:30 that day.

Then I cheated and requested an email reminder to be sent to me 10 days before, so I can wear whatever I don't want to lose.

I told Danika that I was gonna show up for volleyball and be changing outfits every 15 minutes. ("Oh wait guys I'm sweaty--gotta change... Hold on a minute there's dirt on the hem of my skirt. Gotta change...."

Well see


Edit: This post is 2 months old and has been sitting in my drafts because I was waiting to add pictures of my closet. I've finally pulled the pics off my camera and onto a thumb-drive...

PS: (to the commenter)

Because I can't comment via text msg. (Does anyone know how to do that? I would love to know how to comment via text .)

I had that post about throwing boring out-of-date stuff onto my blog already planned and scheduled via blogger drafts b4 you told me to feel free to ''talk about the weirdness'' because you don't read my blog anyway.

I haven't yet translated your French, so I don't know exactly what you said. but I have no intentions of being mean to you or anyone else on my blog, or anywhere else. Hope to have not given that impression

And last but definately not least- to the other people who read my blog comments- this is a different d. than the guy that I started to date. (Actually since it lasted only 2 seconds longer than a heartbeat before we quit being whatever we were it shouldn't be called dating.)

At any rate its not him.

But I am not hating anyone either way.

Peace and happiness and snow angels to you all

Because There are 41 posts in my drafts

I am currently trying to throw a lot of old stuff out of drafts and onto my blog (or shifting it into my journal.) That's why some of this stuff is out of order, outdated-

-or just plain boring.

Housecleaning it's called.

But I used to be worse.

Once Upon a time, (When I was 15/16)

One of my friends left state to live with his uncle. His family had lived 2 houses up from mine all my life and before he left Susanna and I hang out with him all the time; we would sit on his bed, and we talk about all sorts of interesting things for an hour or two almost every other weekday.


We were stunned when he left without even saying bye.

The next time I saw him (3 months later) I was at a youth camp, and he came over to me, but said he could only stay a little while --had to go home and see his family. I promptly left my clique of friends to eat lunch with him.

Before we started eating our soggy hamburgers he asked, "You missed me didn't you?"

I did not say yes.

Instead I said, "No. How dare you leave us without saying bye! How could you expect me to miss you after such a horrible non-goodbye?"

He explained that neither his family nor himself knew he was leaving until the day before. His uncle needed help and everything was sudden for him too...

(I actually already knew that.)

While we ate our burgers he was constantly teasing me about how I had definitely missed him "very dreadfully," and asking, "Why don't you just admit it?"

And I consistently denied missing him.

He knew I missed him, and I knew that he knew I missed him, and I was fine with him knowing I missed him. But still I just couldn't say so...

Pathetic I know.

After he left I went to my empty dorm room, swung myself into my top bunk, and stared blankly at the ceiling thinking, "There is something the matter with me. This is my friend; I love him. And I couldn't even tell him I missed him."

(I had a crush on a brown eyed guy from GA at that time, Just platonic love for Micah C. We were always just friends. For the curious people. Lol...)

So I lay there for a while thinking about how strange and warped I was, then I decided, "I might be messed up, but I can be fixed. I'm going to learn how to do this."

Everyone is capable of change. Some people just choose to pretend they are stuck because, "I was born this way." They see their hang ups and say, "Yeah well that's just not something I'm good at. That's not me."

It's better to be all, "I'm not good at this. I need to work on it." Then do it.

(I'm awesome like that.)

....Usually, but it's a lot of work

Lots of love, No Words

----------

Monday (1-4-10)
After hugging and kissing the kids and hugging Shalom I turned to go, and as I was leaving Daniel, her husband, said, "I Love you Esther. Be safe." (Dude just cause you happened to call last night and I happened to be crying does not mean I am going to be unsafe.)

"Love you too, and I'm gonna be fine," I replied as I turned to go.

He whooped and fist punched the air, "She said it! She finally said it!" he told Shalom.

I paused awkwardly, and turned away from the steps, Huh what? Oh, that...,"Have I not before...?"

Shalom shook her head, "No you haven't. He's been keeping track."

So yeah, the man has a list in his head of all his wife's siblings who liked him when they met him, and those who (in his opinion) didn't. Plus a list of those who have and haven't told him they loved him. Lol. (Am I the only one who thinks this is weird? Not like evil weird  or anything, and he is allowed to be weird, but it is weird nontheless.)

Do people tell  their brother-in laws they love them? Is that normal? I don't tell just heaps of people that I love them, and the ones I do its not everyday or anything, (but sheesh it's often enough.)

After that conversation I thought for a couple of days about starting to tell more people that I loved them, and in fact the very next day I texted a sick person, "Love you kid and get better."

Then I felt awkward.

And decided

I don't want to start telling everyone I love them.

It's just too awkward to tell people that all the time. (Especially guy people, or more specifically guy people who don't belong to me or are not my brothers or something.)

Oh well.

Just something about it is too mushy and just yuck. (Or maybe I should work on it....)
------
I'm not naturally a verbally affectionate person, but hey I am forever more so than when I was younger....

More on that here...

Its just a blog.

But it's a little awkward lately.

I think it is a mix between not wanting to be one of those people who go around telling strangers, "I have a blog. Please read it." and sounding like a desperate friendless person... (I feel like a friendless person at the moment, but I'm really not. They've just all gone ...somewhere.)

And

Well I might have a story about some of these people in my drafts... I try really hard to not post identifying information if I'm posting awkward stories about someone else, and there is a lot that I don't post. But if you do really weird things I might talk about you; I mostly talk about myself though so relax.

(I think I just admitted to writing awkward stories about my friends. Maybe I should reword that eh?)

I actually don't go all off telling everyone's secrets, but I did once give an explanation because untrue things were said about me to everyone. But she complained and I deleted it.

Currently thinking about a conversation I had a few Sundays ago with a friend who kept adamantly insisting, "You should never have to change yourself."

Was trying to figure out if he reads my blog, because I've talked about changing myself some lately here, and because he kept just randomly throwing, "Do not change yourself." and "You shouldn't ever have to change yourself for anyone." into a non related conversation, but I didn't ask for in case he didn't read my blog.

I don't know why I care. Maybe I don't. It is a blog. It's not my journal. I've always tried not to post anything that I would mind anyone reading.

Also thinking about how I told Sharon and Michele's's family, "It's weird for my friends dad's to read my blog."

I don't really mind, if people read what I write. In fact I rather like having people read my blog. (Including my friends parents, Most of them are my own friends in addition to being my friends dads.)

But there was that time Chris was asking, "So Esther who is the guy who wears flowers in his hair?" AND THE GUY WAS STANDING RIGHT THERE. Then I freaked out. Not because I was mean to him in my post, but because other people could warp it that way if they wanted to. I later explained to the guy that yes I did write about him, and he said, "I must be really important to get into your blog." (Don't flatter yourself dude, but yeah.)

And this girl, who was snobby at a wedding, I ended up at a party with her and she was sweet and nice, and I wondered, 'maybe that was just an off day for her?'

So yeah, about all those stories in my drafts. Hmmm.



(Nah probably not)

I keep expecting them

(the naked people) -so I can hide them (of course.)

Let me explain:

I have best friends who believe it's wrong to be on social networking sites. One told me she deleted her account. Her (current) pastor preached a sermon against Facebook and Blogger and MySpace--against all the social networking sites. She said he had 12 points/reasons with Bible verses for each one.

But they have a website, and do email. (?????????)

I asked to see the verses, then added, "If your pastor doesn't mind sharing his notes we would like to see them... If you are uncomfortable asking don't feel obligated though."

She said she would, but didn't. (And it's ok. You don't have to chase the guy down and ask for his notes. I realize that could be awkward.)

Then later someone told me, "I deleted my account because of all the naked people pictures. They were really really bad for my mind."

"Oh uh... yeah. That is actually a really good reason."

I thought back to girl(space)friend's pictures who my friends added to Facebook while I was at their house. And they were all, "She wears that? I would expect her to dress better. This is awkward." (I know her and would expect her to wear a bikini, but not to post pictures in it. Something is very skanky about posting full body bikini pictures of yourself to networking sites. Even if you wear them it seems like a person could at least pretend to be doing something fun or funny in the picture, so it doesn't look like such an obvious plea for attention...)

"Couldn't you just delete the people posting the pictures?" I asked, (That’s what my other friend did; Accepted then denied her all in just a few minutes.) "You don't have to add everyone. And you can delete them if you're uncomfortable with what they post."

"It wasn't so much my friends, I could hide them, It was all the face-book adds on the side." Then my friend described practically naked girls (except for strategically placed hair or something) laying in bed and staring up at them on the side of their page."

"Oh... I don't know anything about that, but sounds like a good reason to quit facebook to me." I winced inside, and decided to maybe not get a facebook page after all.

I asked Jeff Scott (my co-worker, preacher friend) about it, "You don't have naked people on your page. Is there a way to block bad advertisements?"

He said those adds do show up, but you can click on "like" or "dislike" under each add, and they'll tailor the advertisements to your preferences.

So yeah, I'm awkwardly waiting for the naked people...

To the right of my wall is a dark headed, slightly balding, man staring longingly up at me (it's some dating site advertisement.) I can see the top of his scrawny shoulders, but yeah nothing provocative. Just weird. (Maybe my being 24 makes a difference in the pictures they are trying to lure me with?)

In the world, but not of it.

-Esther