Quick, Who's Hotter?

Texas or New York?

I'm often asked by New Yorkers, "Is it hotter in Texas or New York?" And on days like today, I seriously wonder. Maybe hotter is not the right tool to measure by, but humidity. Afterall, Manhattan is an island. And today is one of those days. It's a day when everyone is talking about the weather.

It's draining. It's miserable- there is nowhere to get away from the sticky heaviness that lurks about on every corner and begs for you to give in. Give into the soft serve ice cream cone for lunch. Give into pulling your hair into a nice frizzy bun. Give into lugging an extra shirt to work to change into once you make it to the office- where it's not much cooler. Give into the idea of throwing yourself in front of the bus that you've been waiting on for seven scorching minutes.

It's not 100 degrees. It's 91. And, unlike Texas, there is always a breeze (which is why short "flirty" skirts are a very, very risky wardrobe choice.) But, on days like today, in a city where I already feel as if there are always people pressing in on me on all sides, I feel it even more. I am more aware of the closeness of passersby and buildings and the four walls of my own home. Even my skin feels too close.

It's just an inescapable, burdensome heaviness; like the first hours of the flu. Achy, tired, laggard & indifferent. I was starving at lunch but settled for a Luna Bar. Even eating sounds like too much work.

I think it just needs to rain. Or something.

Big Love(r)

So this morning I'm getting ready, Chris is getting ready- hair products everywhere! (I'm kidding, but I gotta tell you- Chris's hair is super long... and super curly.) I find it funny in that, as a woman, I never buy my hair products from the salon, but head to Drug Emporium or Sally's (in Texas) or Ricky's or Essentials (in NYC).

Honestly, I just use whatever is on sale at CVS or Bed, Bath and Beyond. BUT Chris, he buys whatever products that his hairdresser recommends. I think all guys are like this- trusting that their young(ish) hot(ish) hairdresser knows best.

So, he does have more hair products than me... (but I digress)

Anyway, I'm getting ready for work this morning and I'm getting "the look"- the stare- the eyes that say, "I know what you look like without your clothes on." And that he does, sorry...

So, I ask. "Why are you looking at me like that?" To which he replies, "Like what?" And then I say, "Like I have something spilt all over my skirt or white top or something."

And in that suave, Chris Chambers, I'm-the-king-of-one-liners-sort-of-way he says, "You do. You have sexiness spilt all over you." Ahhhhhhh! My prince charming.

I love loving this man. But can I be honest, being married is not easy. In fact, I will go all out here and say that being married is harder than being single. It is work-- just like any other relationship. I'm recently discovering just because we live in the same house does not mean we will actually see each other or get to spend time together in a given day. Unless... we make plans.

All this to say, I'm looking forward to our 20's Women's Love & Respect study this summer. Odd thing is I received this book as a wedding gift in this huge Focus on the Family box of goodies for newlyweds when I got married in 2006. Of course, I didn't read it. But, I will say, the audio CD's were great and we'd listen to them when we'd drive to Dallas or somewhere further away than the grocery store down the street. Back when we drove.

The first chapter of the book begins, "You may remember the Beatles song, All You Need is Love. I absolutely disagree with that conclusion. Five out of ten marriages today are ending in divorce because love alone is not enough."

And of course, me being the newlywed, thought, "HA. Whatever, we have something deep. We are soulmates. We get it. And, quite frankly, love is enough, for us. Probably not for everyone else, but for us it is."I was wrong!

And while I'm here this summer, Chris has bought a surfboard to strap to the top of his 1989 Volvo Station wagon so he can experience the East Coast. I will be working, being in community, and getting out of Manhattan when I can. Some people think it's quite curious, how we are both so madly in love, yet both very confident & do well as individuals. We love our alone time-- but, planning together time is, dare I say, more difficult than somehow squeezing in that alone time we both so desire. We are seeking that balance.

For his birthday last weekend I bought him socks. Gray socks. Gray socks that fit a size 14/15 shoe. Do you know how hard it is to find socks for big feet? AND, white will not do, but gray... Happy Birthday, I got you gray socks! (Something like 20 pair...) This will help for those days on the road when he won't be bathing or washing clothes. "Look, I got you socks for your roadtrip..."

happy married life

hanging on

“Other people seem to get so addicted to the adrenaline rush from stress that they gravitate to high-pressure jobs and keep piling on new challenges; some subconsciously push deadlines and complicate projects, creating stress unnecessarily.

Put someone like that on a beach for a week, and it's no wonder they can't relax. For them, the best vacations involve physical or mental stimulation, anything from hang-gliding to culinary classes.” from- The Wall Street Journal, Why Relaxing is Hard Work, by Melinda Beck

You guys, I'm a stress junkie!!!

And unfortunately it's not a good thing to be a perfectionist/ do it yourself gal/ busy-body/ OCD. I thought it was for far too long. I read this article recently and was shocked to see that there are other people like me- and that you really can be addicted to being needed- to micromanaging- to the very idea that things will completely fall apart if you might step away.

And I'm sad to admit that I failed this quiz - or passed. However you look at it, endorphins are my drug of choice.

For those of you who won't read the entire article:

“For some people, the withdrawal of stress can be similar to withdrawing from steroids—including changes in glucose metabolism and dramatic mood swings.”

“Faced with a threatening situation, the body's primitive "fight or flight" mechanism pumps out adrenaline that primes the body for action, raising the heart rate, tensing muscles and slowing digestion.” That explains alot.

I do realize that I'm killing myself- a slow death, really. And I hate to admit that my friend in Texas has emailed me three times and I have yet to respond. And a friend in NYC- twice, "just checking in" and I've not yet written. I thought about writing them back in this ten minutes instead of posting, but hoped that they would read this... (How's that for a true friend?)

Know that I'm not drowning, I'm just busy. And the "marketing girl" is vacationing in Barbados this week. So, what does that mean for receptionist Stefani? She is now the marketing department. As well as the receptionist/ HR department/ copier fixer/ package deliverer/ "Good Morning, how was your evening?" welcomer. This is why I just want a 9-5, blackberry free, no late nights, no early mornings job. And I'm thankful that I can afford to have a job like this (usually), so that I can write, play, live...

But it's not just work that I give so much to. It's everything I do. Quite frankly- I'm proud to admit right here right now that there are dirty dishes in my sink, tennis shoes in the livingroom, dirty clothes on the floor & possibly half a bag of uneaten trail mix on the kitchen counter. -- I'm living on the edge, no?

I hate that I care too much. That I try so hard, when it feels like most people don't. When it feels like the "marketing girl" left this mess for me to deal with intentionally.

I guess my feet know where they want me to go

... walking down a country road.

Last night was an amazingly beautiful night- The Troubadour Reunion Tour with Carole King and James Taylor. I loved every moment, even though 90% of the people in attendance were older than my own parents. Even though I had no idea what the Troubadour was before this concert & even though none of the songs I sang along to, loudly, were written in my lifetime- I LOVED IT.

In all honesty, I didn't expect such an older audience. I don't know why, I just thought it might be something more like 50/50. This was not the case. Besides a few high school aged looking kids, who were with their parents, I literally saw a handful of people in their 20's/ 30's. I expected it in Texas, when I saw Steely Dan and Crosby, Stills & Nash--- but this, this is Carole King & James Taylor! ("Who?"- which was the all too often response I got when telling people about my Wednesday night plans. Come On!)

So, I realize now, more than ever that I am the product of this era of music, even though I was not around in 1970. I swear my mom listened to Carole King while I was in the womb. Because she was influenced by these musicians I am influenced by these musicians. Perhaps I am just my mother's daughter & not everyone will get/ love/ appreciate/ become teary eyed listening to these singer/ songwriters do what they do so wonderfully.

Because for me, it's all about the words, which is why you can put a guy and a gal in their sixties on a rotating stage with a simple acoustic guitar and a grand piano & I will be in awe. They still have it. I was starstruck for the first time in my entire life. I was thinking, "This is it. These artists have it- they are operating on some higher plane with deeper roots and have effected, not only me, but a generation. Generations. These two people ROCK!"

I think it's the singing about family & country roots & traveling & unrequited love. ((sigh))

From Jazz Man and Way Over Yonder, to Sweet Baby James and Copperline I was enthralled. For encore they sang Up on the Roof (which she wrote about NYC) & You've Got a Friend. THEN.... when the audience cheered and raged and begged for one more, they snuggled up closely on their stools, James with his guitar & Carole with that look in her eye, and sang You Can Close Your Eyes. And I cried. This song is a lullaby to me, a comfort, a warm lap to crawl into; and I could hear my mom singing it. As I could so many of the songs.

I guess that's what the concert was for me- a realization that I was raised to love music. To sing. To listen to words. My mom sang over me, with me, and taught me to love music and dancing and that it's okay to outwardly express the emotions welling up inside- be it through dancing, painting, writing or playing the piano. I was able to look back on my childhood to where I am today and see how these lyrics and tunes have always been there.

Ahhh, there's just something about being able to wallow in the goodness of such great artists as an artist. I think they are in me somehow, and have been from the beginning.

I know Chris truly had a wonderful night, although this was more my thing than his thing. But he is more of a vagabond than I am, more of a dreamer and a sunset chaser. He's willing to live out of a 1989 Volvo station-wagon for days at a time. I'm just the eclectic one, the one who's had poetry poured into her since before I ever knew it.

WHERE YOU LEAD - Carole King
Where you lead, I will follow
Anywhere that you tell me to
If you need, you need me to be with you
I will follow where you lead

I always wanted a real home with flowers on the window sill
But if you want to live in New York City, honey, you know I will (yes i will, yes i will)

I never thought I could get satisfaction from just one man
But if anyone can keep me happy, you're the one who can

Relaxing by the (kiddie) Pool

Just us gals, chilling in the shade with our toes in Tessa's blow-up pool- this is how I spent my Memorial Day weekend! And it was fabulous.

Unfortunately, June is halfway over and it'll be July 4th before you know it! In spite of the fact that school is still in session and Chris still has eight more days with students- plus two more after that- it feels as if summer is almost over... (or could be over in the blink on an eye.)

Since last weekend I've been pretty busy simply living as well as helping my sister get adjusted to NYC. She arrived Saturday, found a place to live Sunday & started her summer internship on Monday! It's been nice walking with her to the train in the mornings & having someone prepare warm breakfasts- but she moves into her apartment on Friday. Last night she went to the 20-somethings women's Bible study with me at church and I think she liked it. Well, we are a raw bunch- real and honest and open and sometime a bit crazy. But she exchanged phone numbers, email addresses and already has plans to attend a air show on Sunday afternoon with a girl & a barbecue Sunday evening at our leaders home! I think she'll be fine.

Tonight Chris and I are going to see Carol King and James Taylor at Madison Square Garden at 8:00 which leaves time for me to visit the the chiropractor after work. The doctors office is just one block south of MSG- and I'm in desperate need of some straightening out. My 10k went well, but after taking Sunday off I hit Central Park with my sister for 4 miles which was too much too fast on this achy, tender groin. I have been injured since mid-March and I'm still recovering... Gee Whiz!

I feel like this week has literally lasted a month, already, and I don't want to be in a foul mood and acting whiny this evening during the concert, which starts at 8:00. I guess I'll miss my 10:30 bedtime. Tomorrow night I'm meeting an NYC friend who has moved away but is currently visiting. We're having dinner before she heads to see American Idiot. Friday --- glorious Friday, I only work 9-1 (God Bless the English!) before loading my sister and her five giant suitcases in our station wagon and driving her across the East River to her new room in Queens.

And Saturday Chris turns 31. So, my gift to him is that I've drawn a red box around June 19th and have nothing on my calendar for that day. Nothing. I'm hoping he'll let me out of the house for a quick run, if it's pretty. Otherwise, my day is his. Even if that means going to a movie. Or a restaurant that serves beer and wings (or worse, burgers ONLY).

And Sunday, the tattoo parlor- again- after church!

Just a little Fatherly Something

My dad has shown me to never let others take advantage of who I am-
of what I am capable of
to do my best work and stand up to those who try to suck the life out of me.

He's taught me to say "no" when I'm drained and walk away from a situation when it's not best for me- even if it hurts their feelings or my ego.

He's taught me to ask for what I want, to take ownership of the things I do well & to say "thank you" when complimented.

He's taught me that nothing can replace time together and nothing is as valuable.

Running, Sisters & Babies

GOOD MORNING! I find it so easy to get up with the Sun. And since the sun is up at 6:00AM, so am I, even though it's Saturday.

At 8:15AM I meet a friend at her apartment before we head to Central Park to run a women only 10k.

At 1:15PM my sister's plane lands at LGA.

At 6:00PM somewhere between 15-20 women will be showing up at our apartment for a baby shower.

It's sort of an action packed day! But I'd really have it no other way. This will be the longest race I've participated in since the 13.1 in April- from which I'm still recovering. That groin thing- it's not to be taken lightly. But, overall, I do notice improvement & less soreness.

With my sister moving to NYC for the summer I anticipate a great deal of excitement on her part and on mine. I am a little concerned too, after-all I am the Big Sister & I want to help her find a nice space of her own. Which is why tomorrow after church we are going to look at apartments. She's navigated the city on her own before- for a month- so I know she'll be fine, but you know, she's my lil' sis!

Since 1:00PM yesterday, when I got off work early for Summer Fridays, I have been cooking and cleaning like June Cleaver. I prepared a huge vat of bean salad, couscous, dips & chips & four dozen cupcakes which are taking up all our kitchen counter space and need to be iced, all the while telling Chris, "Sorry, you can't eat this." I think he had peanut-butter and saltines for dinner!

Today I'll finish up the Martha Stuart-on-crack food preparation and tidying-up by baking spinach balls, whipping up some banana pudding, arranging some Sweet William and spray roses and hanging a banner. Our refrigerator is stocked with sparkling wine and juices to make girly drinks. Hopefully, the weather will be nice and we can take the party up to the sun-deck.

I'm so thankful for legs that can run and carry me wherever I want them to take me. For a sister with an amazing testimony of God's faithfulness, provision, healing & providing a summer internship right here in NYC. I'm thankful for friends who I can live life with in community; who I can pray with, cry with, and celebrate with.

It's gonna be a crazy and wild day, a living life to the fullest sort of day. Thank You Jesus!

From Serenity to Weird City-folks

I miss the stillness that I had the opportunity of experiencing when I was in Texas. Just nothingness. Just wide open space- land- roads- simplicity. It immediately absorbs all my frenzied electricity and I'm just free to be in the moment. That and the fact that I was sort of there without an agenda; I just wanted to be there, which was quite nice.

My mom's garden and dad's maintained fence lines along the parameter of acres and acres of pasture land filled me with joy. And yet I realize the work they put in to keeping a manicured yard and acres of farmland with cattle- it is a job in itself.

I don't know if I had the time or the space if I'd be such a gardener as my mother or if I'd be able to keep any and every plant alive and flourishing, but I'd like to think that I'd try. I often wonder now if I'll ever even have that opportunity, or if I'll just live in between concrete and communication frequencies- cell phones, cable TV, digital mobo-jombo that rumbles up First Avenue along with the M15 bus & straight through me.

It's never still here. Although, my sundeck in the summertime is pretty darn close. And sitting on a bench overlooking the East River along the promenade is pretty nice. And I do love the people watching- there are some really, interesting people in this city. Crazy. Weirdos. People who appear otherwise completely normal- but they aren't. (I know, aren't we all like this in some way or another....) Still, people really entertain me.

For instance, in my office just this week I was asked to help a new employee settle into her new workspace. She is taking over a desk of a present employee who is currently working "on site" daily. When I told the HR manager and one of the directors that I did not feel comfortable simply pillaging through someones desk and throwing his stuff into a new cubicle, I was reassured that he was completely fine with me scooting his things to anther desk and had "taken out everything he needed."

Really?! Because let me tell you what I found, moved and displayed around the office- all of which was in his desk. A neck cervical traction device- still in the UPS box it arrived in, ten 11X17 x-rays of his knee, 4 or 5 checkbooks, bank statements, Euros, 50 really nice bookmarks from Papyrus (weird, right?), a stash of cards, notes, letters from girls, sisters, and his mom back home in the UK, a Spice Girls CD, a copy of My Sisters Keeper , flip-flops and three pornographic magazines published in the UK tucked neatly in a company logoed leather binder- those kind that are made for legal pads. So, here I am one of maybe seven women in an office full of men, moving someones porn for him. Really?! Show some freaking decency. Couth. Manners. (I don't even want to know...!)

...

Then, I mention to some people, how if I were a meaner individual I could really do some serious damage, or at least play a good prank. Somehow the word got back to the culprit who sends me an email in which he states, "Hi Steph. that’s what I get for not clearing out my desk myself. Some discretion would be great... thanks! "

...

Discretion?! REALLY?! Cause I'm thinking about hanging a freaking banner in the pantry. And spell my name right- it is in my email address, afterall! Weird people. And this is just one interaction on one day. Today- it's all a buzz over the World Cup, like an elementary school the last day of class before summer vacation. It's nuts. Banners hanging, balloons, flags, rivalries...

...

And who I'm I? I'm the tattooed one that no one suspects. "I didn't see you as that type," a friend told me a church. And I wonder, what type is that? The tattooed type? Then again, I'm a little weird.

...
And why the birds? Well, I wasn't brave enough to get "are you not worth more than they" tattooed across my shoulders, but maybe next time.

The Summer Day, by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean--
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down--
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.


I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.


Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?


Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?

Baby Birds

I was thinking more about those birds today, and I realized that I did not tell you all the commentary that surrounded these little feathery fellows.

Their nest was perched in the corner of the back porch at my friends home in Texas. The parent birdies had no problem whatsoever dive-bombing us as when we stepped out onto the patio. However, Heidi, the cocker spaniel, was not nearly as brave and refused to go outside alone- although, she's always sort of been high maintenance like that- having to be carried into the grass to tee-tee, lest she pee on the concrete. And she will.

Anyway, as we watched the mama and daddy birds feed the babies we became concerned- how do they know, in their tiny bird brains, know which bird they just fed and which bird that the other parent just fed? It was a bit disheartening to see the same three middle birdies "get the worm." Our conclusion was that the two fellows on the "end" closest to the wall were quite weaker and might need extra days in the nest in order to grow.

And many, many times we were convinced the little birds were about to spread their wings and propel themselves out of that nest- only seven feet from the concrete. They looked so big in there and ready to leave. But they remained. Why leave? There's comfort, someone bringing food- multiple times a day. There were several feedings- I mean three meals and two snacks for sure! The nest provided protection and company as well.

We worried that the seven foot drop may not provide enough space for get-up-and-go sort of speed, but I was sure they'd "figure it out" on the way down. At least that is what I kept telling my friends. Then there was the rumor that there used to be seven babies, but now, there were only six. One died and fell behind the nest, but we'd only be sure when the nest was removed. We also discussed how entertaining it would be to turn the ceiling fan on while the mother bird perched on one of the fan blades giving instruction and direction, while tilting her head left- then right. The chirpy language of "Fly, fly, fly!"

They just looked way too old to be baby birdies in a nest. They were like bird teenagers just buying time until they were forced to join the "real world." So many great parallels with this bird thing! We were intrigued, obviously. I felt like my Memaw who would always remark on the birds in her yard and window and hang feeders and put up bird houses. I just thought she was a easily entertained, and perhaps a little bored, old woman. Now, I am she.

I am the person who, when asking Tessa's mother if Tessa had a copy of Goodnight Moon and Runaway Bunny insisted, "We must go to Barnes and Noble TODAY and buy them" when she responded, "No." I am the person who thinks every gal should have a bud vase, a good face cleanser, and a massage at least once every three months.

I am the person who bought diapers and diaper wipes today on my lunch break to add to baby gift. Then, I realized I would have to carry them home with me. God forbid anyone thinks they're for me. I don't have a kid!

Kitty cats, puppy dogs and other things I previously avoided

Although my stay in Texas was quite hurried, it was so nice to be home again, to be deep, deep in the heart of East Texas.

My flight was supposed to leave at 7:50PM on Thursday evening, however NYC being what it is & America Airlines being who they are, I was still on the ground at Laguardia at 9:15pm. So, when they announced to our fully boarded plane that 14 passengers were going to need to get off the plane and catch a flight the following morning- I was among the first off. (They said it was because the plane "weighed too much"--- to which I meanly replied, "all those fat Texans" Sorry, it is was I thought though!) I was bought cheaply- with a $500 AA voucher, free dinner, breakfast and a car to & from my apartment. (That flight didn't get to DFW until 1:15AM which would have put me "on the farm" around 3:15- No Way Jose!)

So, I left NY late & I got back to NY late. I think that is what I dislike most about living here: simply getting in and out of this place.

So in Texas I played in the dirt, grilled, picked blackberries & walked barefoot through the grass. I even managed to run a few times and even at 7:00AM, three miles was about all my lungs could take. I got a haircut, a massage & visited my favorite plant nursery- even though I couldn't buy any plants. But I loved just walking in the sunshine & touching and seeing and being with all sorts of plants. (I'm weird, right?) And, I'm pretty sure I ate my weight in yellow squash (from mom's garden)& grapefruit (from The Valley) as well.

I hated country living when I lived in the country, but now I enjoy it- just for a spell: sand everywhere, cicadas that just make it sound hot outside, yards to mow and cars to maintain & really, there's nothing to do. And nothing to do was good for me for five days, and that is about it.

I spent an afternoon with my dad talking motorcycles & I was brave enough to let my 13-year-old brother drive me around my parent's pasture in the old army jeep that I was never interested in. NEVER. I don't know if I ever rode it in before, sad as it may be. My brother totally thrived on my eeking and shrieking, as I begged him to "slow down" and "stop it" and "stay on the path." It reminded me of my first "real" date at 16 when I went over to a boys house and he drove me through his parents property in his old, beat-up truck. His parents were the overseers of a Boyscout camp- lots of land, lots of ponds, and horses- which I appreciated minimally then.

I liked just being there. Just doing whatever they were doing, grocery shopping, working on motorcycles and riding motorcycles. I can function better without the sensory overload I experience day in and day out here in NYC. My mind is a whole heck of alot less cluttered & it is good.

Sunday and Monday I spent with dear friends- just picking up our lives stories from where we left off the last time we spoke- although we email quite often. I love my girls and I'm thankful for years and seasons and being able to see God's work in their lives. To see my friend "in action" as a mother- nurturing, playing with, bathing, feeding & loving her daughter 24/7. It seems like so much work.

Her husband let me grill squash (of course), zucchini and portobellos on his grill! We visited the zoo, arriving as soon as it opened to beat the heat. We ate banana pudding & ice cold cantaloupe as we watched the swallows that had nested on their back porch. These birds kept us entertained for hours, which I think could mean we are getting older.

We watched the mama feed the babies. We created metaphors for how how the birds not ready to leave the nest paralleled our own lives. We decided that she and her husband shouldn't welcome the "bird family" onto their porch ever again and brainstormed local stores that might sell rubber snakes. We also watched and waited expectantly every day, just knowing that they would be leaving the nest that day...

I hear they got the courage to fly away two days after I left. And that little Tessa took her first steps then too.

Running Around

My friends notice I haven't blogged. My sister sent me a Facebook message followed by this email which I received this morning:

I contemplated on my previous wall post about your blog, because I know there is some reason when you don't write. Maybe it is because you have become pensive and don't feel like writing or you are just too busy. Anyway, I thought I might of hit a nerve, but I posted it in a "just kidding" attitude. I mean writing should be all about quality NOT quantity. I don't care if you write or not I just want to talk to you and really know how you are doing.

She's my sister and she knows if I'm not writing then either something is bothering me or I'm dead.

Honestly, when I returned from Texas- oh, over a week ago now, I planned on writing. Then I didn't. I need to contemplate stuff that I really don't want the entire world wide web reading- not the eight of you really- but anyone else who may stumble into this blog. (And by the way, this blog is by no means edited or thoroughly combed through. It is what it is- fast a furious and, sometimes, daily. So, sorry if it seems less than perfect or a little rough around the edges. If my writing appears to be anything but well thought out, know that it isn't.)

And because of that I'm silent. I'm silent in meditation and scripture & through Sunday I was focusing & living & breathing the words to the Praise & Worship set for our Spring Choir event.

There is alot going on in this thirty-year-old head of mine, and I have been keeping too much in- writing is free therapy (but I haven't really even been journaling) and a way to contemplate, focus & helpful in praying I find too. I haven't been writing because I just think in so many ways I don't want to go there. I just don't wanna deal. And I have been busy running around- although I'm usually busy.

We are short handed at work- and I'm hoping for someone wonderful to come and fill the receptionist seat beside me very soon. Baby Showers. Rooftop parties. Preparing for my sister's two month stay in NYC which begins this Saturday, Chris's birthday, things that I've volunteered for which I'm reconsidering now, and just living life in community. Oh- and balancing that whole alone time/ married couple time.

I'm wondering if I'm slowly becoming extroverted- or if I'm just enjoying being around people more. Or, if I've finally found a group of people that I love.

More later--- TODAY, I swear.