Go for Broke...I mean Boots

I went for the boots.

I’ve never gone shopping on Black Friday… which is now technically Thanksgiving Thursday night.  I’ve gone for the people watching which lasted maybe 30 minutes one time and even then, I hated every second of it.

Shopping isn’t my thing.

Crowds aren’t my thing.

Cranky people aren’t my thing.

But Kohl’s and their marketing team are brilliant and sent me a flier in the mail, showing me all of their amazing Black Friday deals.  The $20 boots made me change my mind about going shopping on a holiday, let alone, the biggest shopping day of the year.

And so, towards the end of Thanksgiving evening, I found myself heading into Kohl’s in hopes of getting some awesome boots.  I didn’t rush to be one of the first people there because I wear a size 10.... which means it’s above the average size of shoe and less people will be looking for that size.  

However, it also means there are less in stock because that size isn’t as high in demand.

The parking lot was filled with cars.  Not one space was empty.  All I could think about was ALL those PEOPLE inside the store.  But, I mustered up the courage and desire for boots, and went in anyway. 

The checkout line went all the way to the very back of the store.  I headed to the boot section and saw the most amazing pair of boots for $20.  And no size 10.  I even asked one of the lovely employees if there was any in my size in stock but the answer was no.  So, I moved on to another pair which had a size 10 and was on sale, so I scooped them up.  None of the other boots I liked were on sale, so I moved on to the next section.

I would have loved to thrown them into a cart or bag, but there were none available, so everything I picked up, I had to carry, which wasn’t going to be easy because I also wanted to get a few kitchen appliances which had some really awesome prices.  Within 20 minutes of my shopping venture, I was trying to balance 4 boxes in my hands. 

They also had pillows and towels on sale, which are items I really need, but I had no idea how I was going to balance everything.  My trusty Black Friday shopping companion helped me as much as possible but soon we were getting clumsy, knocking over display items and dropping something every few minutes.   Finally, I volunteered to keep all of our possessions in the corner and take turns shopping.  It seemed to work out in our favor, even though all it did was make me realize how done I was with shopping and we still had a really long line to stand in.

I picked up a winter coat which has been something on my list to purchase for a few years, but I’ve always gotten by layering and sweatshirts.  By the time we made it to the line, it was even further wrapping around the store.   We dropped our things and I headed off to the bathroom.  By the time I got back, my shopping partner was really struggling to move everything down the line.  I hopped back in line and instantly knocked over my box of boots and struggled to flip them over.  After a few minutes of laughing out loud at myself and making light of the situation, the lady behind me asked if she could help me.

“Well, if you’re not going anywhere or doing anything, I’d love your help.” 

She laughed and quickly helped me get on my way.  “Why not?  It’s not like my hands are filled like yours.”

“Right, wouldn’t it have been nice if they had extra carts?”

We continued to make small talk about taking turns napping, escaping to the massage chairs, yet we kept to ourselves.  I would sometimes detour from the line and look at a few other things but it wasn’t until we got to a display of boots that really made me change my tune of being tired, to being excited to be a did-it-for-the-deals shopper.  As much as I love boots, I have a really hard time finding boots that fit my massive calves!  Not only do I work out on a regular basis but I also stand on my feet most of the time, so my calves make shopping for boots a struggle!  However this pair had laces up the back so it seemed like it would be a good pair of boots for someone with big calves.  Since we still had at least a half an hour left in line before even seeing the checkout counters, I decided to look for my size.  And there it was, on the very bottom of the display.

I set down all the things I had been carrying and started to pull out the box.  The whole pile started to tilt and I went to catch it but I was a little too slow and the top box toppled off the display on to the floor on the other side.  The ladies behind me were laughing and one went to get the box that had fallen over.  A few minutes later, my shoe was off and I was working on shoving my foot in the boot.  And that’s when I realized I was trying to put the boot on the wrong foot.   The ladies behind me laughed as I kicked off my other boot and started putting on the other foot, when I realized, I was actually right the first time!  However, I still needed to unlace the boot so I could get my foot all the way in.

One of the ladies had mentioned something about wanting to be more comfortable while standing in line and I jokingly told her to take off her shoes and feel at home!  After all, I had my shoes off!  I was standing in line in my socks. They went with it and we continued to joke about how I was keeping them entertained while in line vs. someone with a bad attitude and making the wait unpleasant!   While we were having a good time and while I was still continuing to try and put on this boot (which had now caused me to break a sweat) the people beyond us weren’t quiet as amused with my entertainment and kept giving me glaring looks. 

Now, I don’t know if you know this about me or not, but the more unhappy you look around me, the more I try to make you smile.  I mean, we were all in line, we weren’t going anywhere, why not have a little fun?!?! 

After 15 minutes, many attempts, several jokes, sweat forming on my forehead, and a lot of laughter, I finally got one boot on.  I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, mostly because I was exhausted from putting the boot on.  I got a thumbs up from the ladies behind me, and my shopping buddy.  Plus, they were on sale for $30.  “When you get all the laces where you want them, it won’t take you 20 minutes to put one boot on, either.”  One of the ladies reminded me as I was trying to decide whether or not I liked how they looked on me.  I was concerned about the fact that so much leg would be showing between the laces and I didn’t want the back of my leg to look….lumpy.

I thought she was going to wet herself when I described the possibility of my leg looking lumpy.  We were loud, laughing, and having a good time, while the people behind us still gave us grumpy looks. 

Taking the boot off was just as exhausting as putting it on, and almost as entertaining!  However once I got the boot off, that extra long box made us scooting our purchases along the floor of the store so much easier.   When we finally got to the register, I told the ladies behind me to have a happy thanksgiving and that I was so pleased they put up with me without getting grumpy and made our experience in line a pleasure.   We parted ways and I gave Kohl’s more money that I had intended.

I made it home two hours later, which isn’t bad considering one hour was in line.  Even though I got 2 pairs of boots, a winter coat, 3 different kitchen appliances, 2 pillows, and 2 towels for $140, I don’t know if I will make Black Friday shopping a tradition.  The experience wasn’t horrible but exhausting!   I still much prefer the luxury of shopping online….and boots are one thing I refuse to purchase online because of my calves.  

But missing this chance to get amazing boots for $30?!?!? I might be back at Kohl's a year from now.

That Time I went to a Nigerian Wedding... Hallelujah Amen!

It's been a while since I've experienced jet lag but I seem to have a case of it after this weekend....and even though I didn't technically fly to Africa for a wedding...it feels like I crossed time zones and spent the weekend in a completely different country with a completely different culture.

I did travel though, to Detroit, Michigan...which is still in the same time zone...so I have no idea why I am having issues with this "what day is it?  where am I?  what time zone am I in?" feeling.  However, I think it might have something to do with driving to Detroit and back to Wooster in the same day.

Going to this wedding was a last minute choice.  I say choice loosely because it was more of an obligation.  I have been spending some time with a guy and he asked me a while back to go with him to this wedding.  I told him I didn't think we were there yet and we could see where we were when the wedding got closer.  He took that to mean he should check yes, and RSVP for two.

A few days ago he said, "we need to leave around 10 to get to the wedding on time."

"It's this weekend?  I have plans, and we were supposed to discuss this."  I said.

"I already told them you were coming, they rearranged the seating to make a plate for you, and it is a fancy wedding."  He reminds me.  "Plus, I need you to be my date, either you go with me or I don't go to the wedding."

I'm not always covered in sweat.
I can clean up.

Dang it.  It is one of his good friends and I knew he wanted to go to the wedding, so I cancelled my plans and got all fancied up and headed to Detroit to attend a wedding for people I'd never met before in my life.  The only thing I knew about this couple was the groom was from Nigeria, and the bride was a doctor.

What I didn't know is the bride's family was also from Nigeria which meant I got to experience a Nigerian wedding which has kinda been on my bucket list.  Technically, I just wanted to go to an African wedding, I didn't really care which country in Africa, just a total cultural experience kind of wedding.  (And Indian and Romanian weddings are also on the list... and a Royal wedding but Prince William didn't get the memo that I was supposed to be his bride and be a PART of that wedding.  It's cool, I've forgiven him and I really think Kate is a perfect choice for him.)   I've always been fascinated with different cultures which is probably why I enjoy traveling so much...and have no problems dating difference ethnic groups.

                                                 

I sat and watched women walk in with colorful dresses and  gele headtie styles, and men in their yoruba dress and aso oke.  (I got the names from google... hopefully I got them right!)  And suddenly I was feeling rather dull since I was in a solid blue dress.  I desperately wanted to be dressed as a Nigerian in a bright dress!  As soon as one lady sat down beside me, I oozed out my love for her dress and how beautiful she looked.  I couldn't help myself!  My date, on the other hand, was probably wishing I would chill out!

*While we were waiting for the reception to begin,

I almost go the opportunity to learn how to

make a headtie...but it turned out to be too

short!

The music started and by that I mean, two mean started singing from deep within them.  I had no idea what they were saying but it was beautiful and powerful!  I found myself moving to the music.  Soon, a loud drum beat joined in.  I don't know if you've ever been able to feel power, or spirit, or love, or any other type of positive vibes from music, but this is what it felt like.  Magnified.

Everyone was shouting hallelujah, amen!  Praise be to God the Father.  Over and over.  It was a total spiritual experience.  I imagine this is what the big tent revivals felt like back in the day.  The wedding continued but it was mostly just one long powerful prayer!  Hallelujah amen.  When it was time for the family blessing, the parents walked up and the new husband and wife greeted their in-laws by bending low and touching their feet.  I imagine this is to show respect.  Then, the family surrounded them and the rest of those attending the wedding were asked to place our hands in front of us as if we were putting our hands on the new couple while they prayed over them.

Let me tell you, I had tingles in my arm... and they weren't the kind of tingles you get when your arms fall asleep.  I leaned over to my date and said, wow, this is powerful, and spiritual, and beautiful, thank you for inviting me to experience this.

It wasn't too much longer that we got the opportunity to go greet the new couple.  The singer went back on stage, the tribal music started playing again, and we danced down the aisle to greet the bride and groom, to give them a hug, and then go back to our seats.  Nigerian dancing is hard to explain but it's mostly like a really slow walk.  You step, and shake, step the other foot, and shake.  This is one step.  And they are baby steps.  I'm sure you can imagine this was a very slow process to greet and congratulate the couple.  It was around this time that I learned Nigerians have absolutely NO sense of time.

The ceremony ended after 2 hours and that was only because the wedding planner was in the back motioning to the watch on her hand.  There was a reception to go to and pictures needed done and all that exhausting wedding behind the scene stuff.  The ceremony ended and we headed over to the reception.  It was around this time my date said the most ridiculous sentence I'd ever heard him say....  "we were like the only white people there."

I looked at him with a very confused look on my face.  "Um, you know you're not white, don't you?"  I picked up his arm and put it beside my arm.  Pointing my my arm, I said, "This is white skin.  And you are not white."

"Well, I'm not black.  And I've lost a lot of my coloring since living in the United States. What color would you call me?"  He asks in an innocent way which is equally hilarious and sweet.

"Tan... brown...dark...dusky... even when you are pale, you aren't white!"

"Maybe if you spend a little more time in the sun, you'll be tan like me."  He said, but I remind him that this IS my skin with a tan and winter is coming....my shade of pale will only get stronger.

We headed to the reception and watched everyone make their grand entrance with more dancing!  Only, it was like the entire family coming in instead of just the mom and dad.  They would dance and dance, and then people would surround them and start throwing dollar bills on the father of the bride, the mother of the groom, and when the bride came out, she got showered in cash.  I kept thinking... this means something much different here in America.

I was also seating at the international table.  I was hoping for fascinating discussions of culture but everyone at the table was my date's coworkers, so they talked about work and the groom.  I was seated at the same table with someone from Iraq, Turkey, Taiwan, Iran and China.  I felt so American!  I was the only person at the table who wasn't bilingual.  *Note to self, must learn another language.

We kept waiting for "real" dance music to come on so we could join in on the dancing but they seemed pretty content with their tribal stomping, and knowing we had to drive home and it was already late, we decided to call it a day and head back to Wooster, Ohio.... with headaches from the drumbeats, bellies filled with Nigerian food, gifts from parents of the bride and groom, and blessings and prayers from everyone we talked to.

It was an amazing experience, and I'm really glad I cancelled my plans and went to experience it.

Trying to Love When Grumpy...

Is there anything worse than going through a phase when you just don't sleep good?  It's taking me a little bit longer to fall asleep at night but I'm still sleeping, however, I wake up completely exhausted from not sleeping very well for 5-8 hours prior!  This has been going on for about four days now and I'm simply done.

I don't want to think.  I don't want to work.  I don't want to do anything but sleep.

However, tired or not, life still goes on, and I had a project with a deadline that needed done or else I wouldn't get paid for it.  Since I like having extra money in my pocket, I decided to go ahead and complete the project with bags under my eyes.

I needed pink tape to finish my project.  I didn't think it would be too difficult to find pink tape since it decorative tape became trendy a few years ago.   I went to the store after a long day at work only to find they didn't have anything but regular, clear, boring tape.

Frustrated and desperately wanting a nap, I ventured off to another store.  It's a store I don't particularly like going to because every time I go there I have horrible service but I didn't want to drive across town and go to the craft store or Walmart, so off I went.

I found the tape in a few minutes and somehow managed to pick up a few planters pots because they were 75% off and pretty!  From there, I decided it was time to leave the store while I still had money in my pocket.  

Now, why exactly do stores have 20 or so check out registers and only one or two are open?!?!  This drives me crazy.  However, I went to the shorter line and waited.... and waited...and waited.  I don't know what was taking so long.  When I picked the line, the customer was literally swiping her credit card in the machine.  This NORMALLY means the transaction has occurred and they would be picking up their bags shortly.  Several minutes later, I finally set my plant pots and tape on the counter so I can check out and head home.

The first item the cashier picked up was the tape.  Somehow on my journey across the store, the cardboard with the price tag fell off.  This series of events made the cashier very distraught!  She had no idea what to do in this situation.  She looked at me, she looked at the tape, she looked at the other cashier, and then she did a shoulder scrunch.  "I don't know what to do.  Did you still want to buy it?"  She asks.

I'm not going to lie, I'd lost my patience several minutes ago and so I wasn't exactly all rainbows and butterflies when I said, "yes, it's why I came to the store."

She paused, still clearly trying to access the situation.  Finally she said, "do you know how much it was?"

"I don't know, 3 something, maybe $3.19 or $3.99"  I respond.

"Well which one was it because I'd hate to charge you $3.99 if it's $3.19."  Her pace was as slow as her speech which irritated my tired self even more.

"I have no idea.  Charge me $3.99, I'm okay with that."  I respond.

She looks at her screen, she looks at the tape, she looks back to her screen.  "I don't know how I'm supposed to override this.  Hold on."  She leans over to the lady at the next register.  "There's nothing on this for me to scan.  What should I do?"

The lady gave her a wow, really smile and said, "why don't you call the stationary department?  You can't sell it to her if you don't know the price."

She looked back at me, completely oblivious to the two other people who have gotten in line behind me.  I only had three items, it shouldn't take me very long to check out, right?   Finally she said, "do you want to go back and pick up a new roll of tape?"

"No, you can call them."  I responded and watched her cluelessly try to call the stationary department.  I realized a minute into her starring at the phone that I should have walked back across the store to pick up a new roll of tape. I kept telling myself she is a moron, idiot, GOD'S child and He loves her though He might be the only one and she makes someone smile but not me.  I radiate love okay, I'm trying to anyway and there is nothing about this situation that should frustrate me other than the fact that she is horrible at her job! 

She makes the call and they have to call her back.  Now, she can't find pen and paper to write down the SKU number.  The two people behind me have moved over to the other cashier and have checked out and gone on their merry way while my cashier still hasn't rung in 1 of the 3 items I decided to purchase.  I almost suggest that she can scan my pots and wrap them in bags while we waited but then the phone rang.  She finally found a pen and paper and by the third ring, she answered the phone, slowly jotting down the SKU number.  She walks over to her register and types them in, one index finger tap at a time while triple checking each number before moving on.

"Oh, look, it was $3.99!"  She exclaims with pure joy.  You are God's child and He created you out of love.  Someone loves you. You make someone very happy.  Just smile at her and be nice. 

"Yay!"  I unenthusiastically reply.  She scans my pots and doesn't put any of my purchased items in a bag.  I stack the pots and throw the tape inside and FINALLY walk out the door of the store.  

This trip took me 20 minutes. TWENTY FREAKIN' MINUTES!

Talk about being grumpy.  I tried so hard to change my mood, to shake it off, to remind myself of every positive mantra I'd repeated over the last few years but it wasn't working.  She simply set off my grumpy mood  and negative thought alarm and as much as I tried to ignore it, the meaner the talk got inside of my head.

.

So, here's the truth.  Sometimes it is really hard to love people when you are grumpy.  Like, really hard.  Sometimes hating people is easier.  Sometimes I take the easy route even when I know it is wrong.

I made a commitment to myself after this frustrating moment, and that is, I will never go to that store again.  I have never had a good experience there.  I will simply run to the other side of town to avoid a store with slow and not so great service.

And, I'll try to love people even when I'm grumpy.

That Time I Thought I was Going to Die

The first time I went to Cedar Point, I wasn't very old.... or very tall.  In fact, I was about an inch too short to go on any of the REAL rides which completely devastated me!  I was an adventure-chasing-thrill-seeking kid who desperately wanted to be tall enough to ride the Mean Streak.

My brothers were tall enough to ride though.  And they went on the ride while I balled my eyes out.  When they returned, their faces were as white as could be, and my brother B's glasses were still crooked.  Apparently he still couldn't use his arms to adjust his glasses.  He was frozen with fear while riding the Mean Streak.

They hated the roller coaster ride and NEVER wanted to ride it again.

By the time I was tall enough to go on the rides, I was unstoppable.  It didn't matter how big, how fast, or how scary the ride was, I was on it.   The first time I went on the Millennium Force, I laughed the whole entire ride.  I wasn't one of those people who screamed on rides.  Rides were just a fun rush!

Fast forward to a few weeks ago when my brother asked me if I wanted to go with him to Cedar Point.  The company he works for was declaring it their company picnic and picking up the bill.  If there is one thing I like more than roller coasters, it's free tickets to go on them!

Yesterday was the big day.  We got there before the park even opened but there were rides going already.  And that's when I decided to watch the newest ride.  Valravn.  It didn't look too incredibly tall but it was the drop off that was making me weak in the knees.  I've never liked rides with straight drops.  I will take loops until I'm queasy over a straight drop.

Only this ride didn't just let you drop straight down, oh no.  This ride stops you at the very top of the drop and lets you dangle before dropping.  I would watch and count the seconds of the carts hanging, then listen to the screams come from every single rider.

I looked over at my brother and told him, "I don't think I want to do that one."

"But it's the new one, we have to do it...don't we?"  He suggested.

I told him I needed some warm up rides before going on Valravn, and so we started small with rides we'd done many times, and because it was early in the morning, and late in the season, we had very little wait time.  We knocked out the Iron Dragon and Rougarou in our first hour.

After lunch we did my favorite ride, the Raptor, and then we headed to a ride with a straight drop but not nearly as high as Valravn's, the Maverick.  The drop on the Maverick was only 100 feet while the drop on the Valravn was 214 feet.

By the time we finished those two rides and walking around, it was time to eat again.  Knowing we probably only had enough time for one more ride, my brother convinced me to go on the new one.  I agreed on one condition... we sit in the last row.  I did not want to hang 214 feet in the air for 6 seconds while looking straight down.

We got buckled in and the ride started moving up hill... the higher we got, the more I was regretting my decision to go on this ride.   And then we were at the top hanging over....stopped....

My brother was curing like a sailor.  I was trying to but all that came out was sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-oh-oh-oh-sh-sh-sh.... and then we dropped and I screamed louder than I had ever screamed in my entire life! We looped, we went upside down, and sideways... and then we came to the top of another straight drop, though this one didn't stop, it went slow enough for me too know it was coming.  I was in complete panic mode and I looked at my brother and nearly crying, I said, "please don't make me do another DROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP OOHHHH SHSHSHSSHSHSH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"  Again, my scream probably could have been heard across the park.

A few seconds later and the ride is over.  My brother tries to give me a high five to congratulate me for surviving the scariest ride I've ever been on in my life.  However, my hands are still gripped to the ride, so he literally has to pick up my hand and slap it to his.  We unbuckled and my legs were shaking but I was so happy to be on the ground again.

"That was scary as hell but it was fun, wasn't it?"  B asks me but I give him the look of death.

"I. I. I. I. am still trying to process everything."  I finally get out.  "I will never EVER go on that ride again."

We have to stop at the nearest bench so I can sit down and calm my nerves... which takes almost an hour.  My brother asks me how many times we went upside down on the ride and I answer him honestly, "Other than the drops, I have no memory of that ride, I'm starting to think I blacked out!"  We laugh but it's true, I didn't block out but my mind was completely paralyzed by fear and that's a feeling I don't get very often.  I couldn't even function enough to swear!

For the record, my brother agrees that it is the scariest ride he has ever been on, and I'm not sure how quick he will be at doing it again, either.  But me, that was the LAST time I will ever ride  Valravn.

Loser in Aisle 11

I recently binged watched Stranger Things on Netflix.  It was wonderful and the boy who plays Dustin is the CUTEST kid ever.  One of my friend,s who also got hooked on Stranger Things is convinced that if I were ever to have a son, he would look like Dustin.   I'm pretty sure she is right. 

 (Let's refer back to this post someday when I have a son and we will compare photos.)

Anyway, once I finished the season, I remembered I needed some almond milk from the store.  Even though this is my month of making everything from scratch, I haven't gotten everything from the store that I need to make almond milk, and it has to sit over night.  So, as you can see, I made the exception.  I do intended to make it sometime this month.  

I jotted down a few other things I needed from the store before I made my way out for the day.  As I was filling my cart, I took a moment to look down at my cart and that's when it hit me.  I was a total loser.  Like double L7 weenie kind of loser.

In my cart, I had....

almond milk

cat litter

a grow light

bird feed

and

spoons

Could we stamp single loser on my forehead and call it a day?

The thing is, I only let this sad, woe is me, moment last for a moment.  Instead of feeling bad about being a loser, I embraced it.  I like almond milk. I like when my apartment doesn't smell like cat poo. I want my avocado tree to make it thru the winter,. I like watching Prim watch the birds, and lastly. my spoons grew legs and walked away and I literally don't have one spoon in my silverware drawer.

I've been a loser for a while now and I'm finally okay with it. 

This morning at work, one of my coworkers was going on and on about how she loves Australian men.  She said if she were single she would be there trying to find a man, after all, she "would make a horrible single person."

My other coworker chimed in sharing that she would also be a horrible single person.

Wanting to feel included in the conversation, I said, "and apparently I am really good at being single."

A quick, "yeah you are" was said before the awkward hush filled the room.   After the long, awkward moment, another stab was made, "you know, that isn't something you want to be good at."

I nodded.

The thing is, I would rather be good at being single than be a desperate and clingy woman who would settle for anyone just so they don't have to be single.  I know too many women who settle for being a Mrs. instead of chasing happily ever after.  They stay in empty and unhappy marriages fantasizing about men in Australia.

It didn't stop there.  Next, they talked about how I have to use online dating and end up dating men who might be terrorists.  (Yes, I dated a guy from the Middle East for a while.  No, he isn't a terrorist.)

I may not have dates very often, and I might spend too much money on my plants and cat, but to be honest, I would rather be a loser than be someone who isn't true to who they are deep down inside.

I am a loser and really good at being single.

This is me owning it.

My Body is Physical and Spiritual... What about Everything Else?

I grew up in a Christian household.  I was raised to believe that premarital sex is bad.  Tattoos are bad.   Alcohol is bad.  Drugs are bad.  I was taught these things were bad because my body is a temple and God resides in the temple.  Therefore, sins like sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll were not allowed.  (Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies. - 1 Corinthians 6:19-20)

I was taught that taking time for yourself and self-care was selfish and narcissistic. I was taught to be a people pleaser and to go out of my way to help others, even if it went unnoticed.  In fact, if it went unnoticed, it was a greater blessing to God because if it had been noticed, the praise would go to me and my head and not to God. (Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus. - Philippians 2-2-5)

I'm not saying any of these things are wrong but I was never taught in order to fully serve people, you have to take care of yourself too.  While my body is a temple and I am to honor God with how I live my life in the physical world, I was never taught to properly take care of myself because spending too much time taking care of myself was a sign of vanity.  Because I never learned this lesson, I struggle with the people pleasing side effects of trying to pour from an empty cup.  I give until I run on empty and then have to find ways to fill the void.

This is where I lack in my Christian faith because I've always been taught that God is the answer to my empty cup and if I would just spend more time with Him and His Word, I would never feel moments of loneliness, emptiness, and feeling lost. My faith knows where I will spend eternity, my faith knows that I am loved unconditionally by my Creator, my faith knows God is in control... so to me, an empty cup is not a sign that I need to focus on my faith.  An empty cup is a sign that I need to properly fill my body.

My body is a temple.

My HUMAN body.  My body is both physical and spiritual.  This body needs rest, food, and physical touch.  This body needs love, kindness, and compassion... from others and myself.   This body needs to heal.  This body needs so much in order to be a temple for God.

When I first started doing yoga, people thought I had abandoned my faith and that I had gone off the crazy end because I was meditating.  Ironically, yoga has helped me keep my faith instead of abandoning it when I started questioning my existence and purpose behind it.  It was during my yoga journey that I discovered how important self-care and self-love are in life.

I couldn't be a temple for God to reside in if I didn't love myself.  And I didn't want God in a body as unhealthy as mine.  He didn't deserve to be in that mess of self-hatred, anger, and hurt.  I didn't treat my body like a temple.  I treated it like a death trap.

I was never taught to eat like my body was a temple.  The more I learn about all the chemicals in and on our foods, the less I want to put them in my physical body because of health reasons, but looking at it in a spiritual light (thanks to profound incite from Joel Salatin and his book, The Marvelous Pigness of Pigs), I wouldn't bring anything but the best food to God's temple, so why do I put harmful foods in my body because it costs a few dollars less?  I'm starting to look at food as a moral issue.  Is food as much of a spiritual issue as abstaining from premarital sex or getting a tattoo?  I think it is up there.

In Genesis, we learn that whatever God created was good.  He created food and in the beginning it was pure.  Now, what we eat in this day and age is hardly classified as food.  To get back to God and his creation in the physical world would mean eating purer and cleaner foods.

I believe it was C.S. Lewis (not positive) who said "we are not human beings having a spiritual experience, we are spiritual beings having a human experience."  The more I live and grow, through yoga, through clean eating, through self-love.,.. the more I realize EVERYTHING is spiritual, and we are lucky enough to be a part of it.

Perfect Match

I've analyzed many things in my head but the one I probably obsess over the most is how and why I am single.

And then I realized the answer as I was getting ready to meet a guy from match.com on Saturday night.

Dating gives me anxiety.   It used to be about whether or not I was good enough or attractive enough because I was stuck in a world ruled by societies view of me.  And then it was about what everyone else would think about me being in a relationship and if my friends and family would approve of the person I was dating (which they never have so I've gotten over that anxiety).

Then, as I was standing in my kitchen, falling back into bad habits of emotional eating as a way to fix my anxiety, I realized that it's never the actual date itself that gives me anxiety.  It's all the possibilities that come along with a date.

Like, was the guy I was about to meet going to be the freaking love of my life?  Would I immediately fall head over heels in love with him?  Would we run off and get married and have children?  Would we grow old together?  Would we pick out plots side by side in the grave yard?  Or, would he be a dud?  Would it be another long evening filled with disappointments?  Would it be so bad that I start to question why I'm even looking for love to begin with?  Did I even want marriage and children after being alone for so long?  What was I even doing?

These were just a few of the thoughts running through my head as I was making another microwaved smore which is not on my current eating plan.  Don't worry, I got a few veggies with my salsa that I had a little bit later.

Even after all the progress I've made in overcoming my emotional eating, binge snacking, and many other unhealthy ways, I found myself throwing it all out the window because of a date.  Did I want to make myself less desirable because if I felt bad on the inside then I wouldn't look as good on the outside?  Was it because deep down I don't think I'm good enough to be desired for longer than a few months, that I'd become a bore after a while?  Or is it just the fear of the unknown future that cripples me?

By the end of my date on Saturday night, I knew my previous emotional eating was added calories that'll I'll have to work even harder to get off.   The date was a dud.  Well, actually, I had a lot of fun at the Ashland Balloonfest but he was a dud.  He was a complete bore.  He was a home body who'd never taken a single risk in his life.  He was so dull he didn't even have any hobbies or interests.

A few days prior to this date, I let my 10-year-old niece play on my phone.  She likes using all the snapchat filters.  Especially the one that makes her look like a cute little puppy.  She saw that I had the match app on my phone.  "Aunt Jennee!  WHAT is THAT doing on YOUR phone?!?!!?"

I coolly responded, "Aunt Jennee is looking for a boyfriend so she can someday get married and have little cousins for you to play with."  This answer put a smile on her face.

"Can I help you look?"

"GLADLY!"  I responded immediately, though her dad was not too keen on the idea of her looking at older men, even if it was to help her aunt find true love.

"That one is too old, he has too many tattoos, and he looks scary...."  We quickly went through all the matches of the day.  Whenever she would come across one that she wasn't sure about if I would be interested in him or not, I would say, can you see me hanging out with this guy? This pattern repeated every day I saw her and while she was scanning the searches, her dad was giving me the evil eye.

One day, she looked up from my phone....
"Aunt Jennee, I found someone for you.  I think he is your perfect match!"

My ears perked up.  "Oh really?!?!"

She pulled up his profile.  "Look, he's 6'0" tall, he's a Christian, he loves hiking and going to the gym, and he's looking for someone JUST LIKE YOU!"  She excitedly tells me as she points out his preferences of a woman 25-35 within 50 miles of Mansfield.  "He wants someone who has dark brown hair!  You have dark brown hair!  And look, he was in the military.  I think you should wink at him.  Can you wink at him pllllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaasssssssssseeeeeeeeeee?"

Her eyes sparkled as she hit the wink button for me.  We set the phone aside and went back to whatever we were doing prior to the quest for my true love.  A few minutes later, my niece summons me into the other room.  In a voice just a hint louder than a whisper, she said, "Aunt Jennee, I really think the military guy is your perfect match.  Do you think he will email you?"  She was as serious as a 10 year-old can get. "He's a Christian too.  You guys would be so perfect together!"

We both blush at the thought and get back to playing.

Though I haven't received any new messages from anyone on match, I find myself calm and ready for love it were to come my way.  I just hope I can find ways to calm the anxiety of the actual dating part so I can someday make it that far.

But at least I have my niece keeping her eyes open for me.  (Seriously, every time she takes my phone I have to check and see how many guys she "winked" at on match for me!  I do have to say, she seems to know my type because everyone she's picked for me does seem like a pretty good match.)