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.

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

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

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

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...

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

If Anyone Is Gonna Violate My Privacy,

-It's gonna be me.
-
I just joined facebook.

Decided it would be easier to keep up with my out-of-state friends there. Plus a few people were starting to ask about things that I had been up to, and I was like "Yeah, but how did you know."

"Facebook. There are pictures of you." or "_______ was talking about it on facebook."

I wasn't going to tell anyone I was there until I had a picture up. You know a real picture of myself not the hugging character I found in an online search, and I don't know how to tag myself... (What is that thing called? Does it have a name?)

Somehow 30 people had invited me to be their friend by the next day (Not sure who a few of those people are though... And one lady, who I am friends with, keeps giving in detail info about her ob/gyn visits. Nastiness...)

For the last few years random people have tried to get me to join, and I've always been, "Yeah, sure, I will sometime, but don't expect me to live there."

I'm telling you this, so you're not sad if I don't poke you enough, or comment on your wall often enough. Doesn't mean I don't love ya. Just means I don't plan to spend a lot of time there. (And if I start obsessing I will delete myself.)

So you should forgive me for not friending you sooner.

And for being an absent friend in our future facebook friendship.

(I adore the tackiness in that last line.)

Pretentiously, Esther

I'm Jealous

Is not that I mind her having a car. I don't even mind him buying her one.

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

When my oldest sister started driving Dad bought her a very ugly Volkswagen to drive. (I think I even remember wood paneling) Anyway when it was wrecked he bought another ugly Volkswagen, which was promptly wrecked. (I can't remember who wrecked which Volkswagen. Dad wrecked one. Anna wrecked one.)

Btw I have great memories of sitting in the back of those Volkswagen with all my older sisters & all the Gordon girls. (Yeah all of us--That was before seat-belt laws I think.) Anna would buy us pizza at Little Caesars, and we would split cokes. It was awesome.

Next Dad bought an ugly gold diesel car that we named The Rattletrap. Anna drove that until she was married, then she left that car for my sister Shalom to drive.

Shalom wrapped The Rattletrap around a tree, so he bought her another car. Something blue and sporty that hung a curve really well...(Thankfully.)

I can't remember when that one died. Josh says it was having problems before Shalom got married, but I don't think it died until a few weeks later. Transmission problems we were told... Anyway I drove it for that few weeks.

And then...

Yeah, actually nothing.

I worked for a year until I could afford a car. And I was the loser who rode with her friends everywhere.(But my friends loved me, so it was ok.)

And, well yeah, I was jealous, but I was just kinda, "Oh well. Such is life."

So this week Mom called me, and said, "Hey can you bring Leah home right away. Dad found a car to maybe buy her, and wants to make sure she likes it."

The car is hers to drive, but she can't have it unless she wants to commit to paying for it in the future when she has money.

My parents said, "Well it needs to be this way, because we did it this way with all the other girls.

So now I am all thinking, "And what was I? A boy? (Because the brothers didn't get cars either. Lol.)

So yeah anyway.

I don't know

Is not that I would not like to know, but...

I don't.

And some things I do know.

Still I am not everything you think I am.

And that's not wrong of me.

But you might think it is.

Scar(r)ed of Christmas

Every year around the 1st of December I start to panic. (I'm a little early this year.)

I don't belong here.
Christmas is scary.
I wonder if these people resent me.

I don't hate Christmas. I might celebrate it at some point in my life. One of my brothers celebrated Christmas with his (then) girlfriend for a couple of years. I guess I could celebrate it now if I chose to.

But Christmas scares me because people are mean this time of year. They think if you don't celebrate it you don't love Jesus or something I guess...
---

I've actually been in a Christmas play/thing before.

My family went to another church for a while (11 years actually.) One year in December we had a skit. (It was lovely.) We dripped hot white candle wax all over the carpet, and sang "Carry Your Candle" in the dark.

I love fire. And darkness.

We had been told that it was not for Christmas--But it was.

Which is not to say that it was terrible or evil; just that it was a Christmas thing. It was a good play and a few families had filled brown paper lunch bags with nuts, fruit, and candy which they handed out after the play, then passed them and fruit baskets through the (poor) neighborhood where our church was located. I think if people are going to have Christmas celebrations that's a good way have them.

But my family doesn't celebrate Christmas.

We talked about it afterward, and my fam was like, 'yeah that's what it was, but we asked, and they told us 'No this isn't for Christmas'.... So anyway we didn't say anything about it, but decided to step out next year. It was over and bla.

The church knew we didn't 'do Christmas', but we had never asked them to not have Christmas celebrations at church. It was really their call--Not ours. (They should have told us that it was for Christmas when we asked, though.)

The next year around the beginning of December, during church, a man asked, "Are we gonna have a Christmas play again this year?"

The pastor's daughter answered, "Yes, we'll do the same song we did last year." Then we went on with our service.

So anyway in a couple of weeks, when it came time for play practice my family didn't stay. We didn't throw a fit. We didn't ask anyone else to not have a play, or not be in a play. We didn't slam Christmas, or say anything bad about it. We just didn't stay and practice. (If you don't believe in something, it's OK to not do it. We were under-age children at the time, and our parents were responsible at that time for the choices they made with us.)

(The church had just skipped it for the 11 years that we were there. Maybe they felt obligated to... Which is sad for them...)

Sigh.

So the next week, openly, in front of the whole church, during service, we were asked to find another home church --unless we could make the choices he asked of us. Unless we believed the same.

And there was a whole sermon against us, then they yelled at my mom for a while and made her cry...

It was very dreadful. We did leave.

Edit April 2014: Very recently I realized that there was probably a double meaning to his request, and there were some other issues (besides Christmas) our past pastor wanted to be handled differently. Still sad that this was done openly--but now I realize it was done out of a good heart.

Which changes a lot of how I view that pastor... I feel bad for judging him so harshly for knocking over some of his sheep, now that I know he thought he was protecting lambs.

But it was still horrible...

-------
My best friends Dad left church also. He was recently saved, and after sitting through the service said, "If that's what Christians are like I'm not going to be one."

Jimmy loved my dad especially. Seeing us hurt was the reason he left. It hurt him too bad to watch us bleed.

I've grieved more over my friend's dad than over my family. (We were moved into a better place for us...) Her family went from rejoicing over the changes in his life, and being happy about how much happiness they just got to having a lost dad again. They loved and love him still (I do too) But lost Dad's are harder to live with than saved ones.

And mostly we all really want Jimmy in heaven with us. No one really deserves Jesus gift, but it's already bought. Twas such a shame he thought it wasn't a good gift for himself... (Handed it back nicely of course...)

Still sad that this was done openly, because most of the sheep lamp; lambs lost trust in their shepherd, and ultimately one of the baby lambs ran away from his Heavenly Shepherd.

But now I realize it could have been done for other reasons, and from a partially good heart.

-
I'm praying I can hide my (poorly stitched, or un-stitched) wounds well enough, so that other patients don't get terrified of the doctor.

Try hard to not operate on anyone--in front of people with a weak stomach--unless it's an emergency. (If you're a new doctor, fresh out of med school, you've gotta expect to botch things a little bit, but a more seasoned doctor can restitch a poorly sewn operation, or reopen it if needed.)

Also if poor stitches are letting your guts seep out, and you think your doctor is able to operate on other people... find another doctor, because if you stay, the waiting room might empty. And some of those people will just go home to die...

Several months ago... On a hard day/week a piece of this song--

Was forwarded to me in a chain text.
I loved it immensely; my girl(space)friend didn't know the artist.
Lots of songs pulled up on google search, but I couldn't find it.
Lyrics aren't usually hard to find. Tear.

I decided was some obscure person & gave up. Forgot about it.

But today I happened upon the lyrics with the name of the singer.
Understand, I hate to admit it (looked up the pole dancing thing.) But
Yes, I love this Miley Cyrus song...........It is amazing.

It was written by Jessi Alexander, and her stuff seems clean.
That's what I'm gonna use...

?

----------------------------------------THE CLIMB----------------------------

I can almost see it.

That dream I'm dreamin

But there's a voice inside my head saying you'll never reach it.

Every step I'm taking.

Every move I make feels

Lost with no direction.

My faith is shakin.

But I gotta keep tryin.

Gotta keep my head held high.

There's always gonna be another mountain.

I'm always gonna wanna make it move.

Always gonna be an uphill battle

Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose.

Ain't about how fast I get there.

Ain't about what's waitin on the other side.

It's the climb.

The struggles I'm facing.

The chances I'm taking.

Sometimes might knock me down but

No I'm not breaking.

I may not know it but these are the moments that

I'm gonna remember most, yeah.

I Just gotta keep going.

And I gotta be strong.

Just keep pushing on 'cause,

There's always gonna be another mountain.

I'm always gonna wanna make it move.

Always gonna be an uphill battle

But Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose.

Ain't about how fast I get there.

Ain't about what's waitin on the other side.

It's the climb.

Yeah-yeah

There's always gonna be another mountain.

I'm always gonna wanna make it move.

Always gonna be an uphill battle

Sometimes you're gonna have to lose.

Ain't about how fast I get there.

Ain't about what's waitin on the other side.

It's the climb.

Yeah-yeah-yeah

Keep on moving,

Keep climbing,

Keep the faith,

Baby.

It’s all about,

It’s all about the climb.

Keep your faith,

Keep your faith.

Whoa, O Whoa.

Spiders, Football, & Other Girls (the normal ones)

"Guys would like you, if you were more like the other girls." She told me.

"I think, guys like me." I squeaked. (I sometimes I squeak my words when I'm surprised. It's not cute.) I tuned my voice to something resembling normal, then continued, "I mean not all the guys but ..."

"No, I mean yeah, but you're too independent."

"I am too probably." was quickly added (to make me feel better I guess.)

"I think guys like for girls to let them help them," She continued. "And to not be so tough. We should work on it."

'Bla, I would so not have survived my life if I wasn't tough.'

'It's not my fault that I am tough,' I tell myself, then ask, "How do I not accept help?"

I am beyond cool with guys opening doors for me and carrying heavy things. (Btw you are very welcome to do that. It's very happiness inducing.) And set up tents. I will let guys set up and take down tents. And chop firewood and um pump gas I guess....

"You know like the girls who ask our brothers and John to buy them things at McDonald's. Guys like stuff like that. Makes them feel manly."

"You mean ask for stuff!" I inwardly recoil in horror as I begin picturing this. "I am not gonna do that!"  awkward, awkward, awkward.

I am going to stay independent if independent means not asking, "Can I have a dollar", but maybe if I ever fall madly in like again I will give up playing football. That is my concession. That is reasonable.

Was thinking about this conversation Saturday while playing flag football.

In which I weird people out by remembering their names

I have a really good memory. Not numbers like dates or times, but events and details

I can usually pull an event or conversation from my mind instantly; sometimes fun stuff, sometimes just mundane useless stuff. Or other times I remember something awkward & cringe, and am all 'Bla stupid me. I'm gonna avoid them forever.'

Weirds M. out for me to remember the story about his ex-girlfriend and her ex fiancé and put all the pieces together to figure who and what he is talking about, but he told me and now I remember. It's not like I am emotionally attached to them. I just know the story, because I've seen so many puzzle pieces that my mind put the pieces together...

Yeah this is a rambling post..

Last week at a social event I saw a girl who was in my cabin for a week at a youth camp some years ago. She was friendly (back then), though it was awkward to be in a clique that actually didn't talk to anyone except for the few people deemed 'cool people'. (In defense of myself I always abandoned them for an hour or so every day to talk to other people. That makes me a nice non-cliquey person right?...)

At any rate I recently saw this girl, so I said hi.

Seriously just, "Hi how are you [Name of person]."

She asked, "Where do I know you from?"

And I told her "Yeah _______ youth camp. It's been a long time ago."

Then she gave me a look that said you-are-really-weird-why-are-you-talking-to-me, and said "Yeah, I was 12." Just kinda, 'Why do you remember me? I don't remember you.'

I thought 'Sweetie, I just said hi. It’s not like I asked you to be my bridesmaid.'

Is somewhat awkward I guess to not remember a person’s name if they don't remember yours, but was more than that. Maybe I am not considered 'cool enough to talk to' now lol.

Then a guy who I had met years ago was at this wedding and was introducing himself to me and I said "Yeah I think I met you once actually." Then thought, 'ugh I hope he is not like that girl. Why didn't I just say my name?"

And he was just "Well is really nice to get reacquainted." And it was cool.


But yeah

Evil Spare Bed

When I get ready, and am trying on clothes, I lay the rejects on my bed. Everyone does that right?

If I have time I'll put them away up before leaving. If not I've always hung them back up before I go to bed. Because I must sleep in my bed, and because I hate ironing. And because I DO NOT PUT CLOTHES ON THE FLOOR.

(Disclosure: When I'm sick I do throw my dirty clothes on the floor.)

Same with sewing. I stick pins in my mattress sheets and cut things, and seam rip bits of jean threads all over the bed, but I must sleep there; so I clean it up.

So it works.

(I should say it worked; using the past tense.)

Because now there is this wonderful bed that I do not sleep on.

When my cousin moved to PA for school I left her bed. I thought it would make her happy. Felt like when she was talking about moving to PA she felt thrown out when the kids discussed putting her bed and dresser in storage. Like "They don't want me. I don't belong here." She is insecure enough already (aren't we all at times), so I thought I'd attempt to fix things somewhat because I love her. So I kept her bed and dresser in my room. I wanted her to come home and feel at home.

I did insist that Roofie(sp?) move to PA with her. (Sorry 'bout that sis. He scared Tuffy.) 'Sides he would'a missed her anyway.

Currently my sewing projects are laying all over that bed. And laundry when I run out of hangers. Sometimes I put outfits there that I plan to wear soon. I had one yellow outfit lying on that bed for 2 weeks! It's ridiculous. It has become my clutter spot.
 
(Why do I accept hanging future outfits over the door-frame of my closet, but freak out by them laying on the spare bed? I make no sense)

I have determined to leave it (the bed) until after Christmas break, but I need to somehow quit viewing it as the place to put stuff...

I'm not always Sad

.


I'm not always hurting. Its just that sometimes when I'm wounded I bleed words onto paper. Writing---it's a band-aid of sorts. Calms me down I guess.

That being said.


My life hurts right now.



Right now as in today and yesterday, maybe tomorrow and hopefully not next week.



After that I will be cured. La la la.




I hope.

Guy Pretty Vs Girl Pretty Dresses & 'Window Shopping'

Our church group has a weird habit of going to Wal-Mart anytime we are in Athens, and to the mall when we are in Cleveland. It's usually the guys' idea; I suppose to window shop. Several of them once explained to me that window shopping means looking at girls. (Interestingly enough they said they'd never heard of window shopping being looking at clothing/store items without buying. But it fits.)

So yeah, in between services our group was at our ghost town of a mall: not many stores left... (I'm not remembering any pretty girls there either. And definitely no good looking guys--except the ones with us lol.) Twas rather empty.

But I'm not complaining; sometimes I do actually like to shop. And some of Deb's maxi dresses were on sale for $5. After Jessie rejected a "not girly enough" dress I directed her to a frou frou 'thing' (I dunno what else to call it.) The hip area was spewing a huge puff of crinkly white lacy shredded fabric masquerading as ruffles. It was horrid. I cannot explain the horridness of it. "Is this one girly enough for you Jessie?" I said sweetly.

She loved it.

(I just lied.) Actually she exclaimed at the scariness of it then picked out a black dress that was feminine enough for her with a bow thingy at the top. She asked it handed down to her. She is short. (Or maybe we were just blocking the rack...)

The other girl held out an orange silky dress with a tropical forest growing on it, "I think I would actually wear this...Looks like the dress I didn't buy in Ross. Remember it. I went back for it, but it was gone."

(Men have stories about, "the fish that got away." Women have stories about, "the sale that got away.")

"Guys don't like these dresses." She said a bit later.

I wrinkle my forehead, "Why not? Are you sure?

"Yes, [The Tall Blonde Boy] and [P.K]. told me guys hated them."

"But [The Tall Blonde Boy] told me he loved my green dress." (Guys are such weird waffley things. Why can't they say what they mean and mean what they say.)
 
"Maybe it was just [P.K]." she answered.
 
They both put their dresses back.
 
I tried on 2 then bought the black one with the bow thing. I probably wouldn't have bought it if I thought all guys hated long-maxi-dresses.

It's not like my life revolves around boys, but hey they matter, and I do care. I'm just not after that particular guy.

I do majorly dislike the tent-like maxi dresses without any shape, or the ones made of tarp material. I like my hips.

15 Lbs Lost

I love being slender, but curves are good...Tear.

I'm still healthy, as I'm small boned, and naturally rather small. It's just that I've got this super fast metabolism, and frankly when I'm stressed I don't eat enough...Still eat more than most girls I know, but yeah... It's like my belly gets tied in knots, then it's like "Listen person I'm full of knots you can't really expect to fit food in here too."

So this lady came up to me at church last week, "You look like you've lost weight?"

I'm not gonna lie, "Uh yeah 15 lbs..." I say, then I prepare to defend myself. And wonder, "Why did I have to wear something snug enough to show how scrawny I'm getting. Ugh stupidness."

But she says something enthusiastic like, "That's great! How did you do it!"

And I'm all thinking "Crazy lady," but I tell her, "Yeah actually I thought I looked good before. It wasn't on purpose....Stress."

She back tracked rapidly. It reminded me of listening to a friend complement a person for losing weight and the girl was all, "But you didn't think I looked good before?!"

And I felt like a jerk, because she was being nice. Actually I was a jerk. Or maybe I just came off that way.

Now that I think about it was kinda nice for a change. People are always griping at me 4 being skinny.

Currently it's true that I would look better with a little more meat, but why is it so acceptable to tell skinny people they need to eat more to gain weight? If I told all the fat people that they should eat less to lose weight, everyone would be mad at me. But random people are forever telling me that I need to eat more. I'm too bony. I need to gain weight. Bla bla bla.

At least I am healthy.

i think

i believe
that running
away from your my problems
is sometimes
definately
an option

10-9-09

Curls & Boys & Pink

My curly headed guy friend was complaining about his hair. The texture was a little off I think.

"What do you use on it?" I asked

"Gel"

"What kind?"

"Just regular gel" he said

I don't expect any guy to start using weekly hot oil treatments or caring about the protein Vs. moisture balance of their hair. (Most girls don't even do that--Just me.) Would be surprised if he would take the time to even use a leave-in conditioner before gel, but even just the kind of gel you use makes a huge difference on how well your hair does--especially if you are curly headed.

"I'll buy you a good gel," I said.
I went home and looked closer at my hair stuff. Most of my gel bottles are a mix of 4 or 5 different products (I mix things until I get the texture, hold, shine, and slip just right for my hair). I only have one unmixed gel (actually the bottle says styling lotion, but whatever...) It's a clear syrupy serum; works amazingly well...Its perfect--no changes were necessary.

Unfortunately I can't buy him that.

It's a pink swirey bottle called got2be 2 Sexy. (The round bottle--It's gotta be the round bottle.)

In between writing and posting this (was waiting on a pic of my gel); He had his curls chopped off. His hair still looks nice, and I quite like it; I imagine its a nice change for him, but I hope he eventually grows them back.

In the meanwhile... What do I buy the boy.


I told him I would.


Hmm.