Words_Freedom, Forgiveness

Thank you to our kitchen clock for being 20 minutes fast or we would have never made it to church on time today. Thank you Jesus for a beautiful September walk, pumpkin spice creamer to my coffee, and new friends and neighbors. Thank you Epic Church for being exactly what I need to feel, hear, be. Thank you for reminding me to be quiet, to listen, and most importantly, that I am free. I am forgiven. We hold ourselves captive in our own prisons when the door to freedom is unlocked the entire time. We just have to make the decision to walk through it. Thank you to my husband who keeps me accountable to my actions and loves me in my darkest moments.

I am forgiven.

I am free.

Words_September

A morning hello

To my lifetime beside me

Inhaling the September air that rounds each corner 

Coating my senses

Uprooting decades past

Against the backdrop of trees in unison

Bending to a commanding wind

That with one touch

Silently speaks

Resurrects and pioneers

Comforts and weakens

Forgives and strikes

Everything behind me 

And the landscape beyond

Words_The Beginning

June 2, 2012 - This happened
July 4, 2012 - This happened

xoxo for now.

Words_"This is a Stick Up!"

Last week I asked Robbe if he was going to ask me on a date on Saturday. This ultra-romantic gesture on my behalf was so overwhelming to him that we both ended up blacking out on the spot from sheer endorphin overload. I took this as a sign that my efforts in romance could be dulled down a bit and that I don't always have to "Go big or go home" every time I try to plan me and Robbe time. Lesson learned. So, Saturday, we decided to try a local's favorite: Annabel Lee's Tavern (yes, Edgar Allen Poe, yes). We sat at the bar, cheersed our beers, and shamelessly filled our bellies with delicious baked brie, tuna, chicken salad, blue cheese cole slaw and greasy duck fat fries. I think I heard my wedding dress weeping from 25 miles away. Or maybe that was me.

Anyway, the meal was delicious; we gave it a very firm wink and a smile and yes, we look forward to returning, especially for future happy hours and anytime we feel a good "caw-caw"  or "nevermore" in our bones. 

We started to walk home. It had started to rain. As we came down the street just one block over from our house, we spotted one of our friends about 30 yards away, running in and out of her house to her car. 

"Hey, I think that's Sarah," Robbe said. 

"Oh, let's go say hi!" I said. "You know what would be funny is if we pretend like we're holding her up." I smashed my hands together in a gun formation and paused to try a few "Stick 'em up!" scenarios. 

We walked up to the house. A guy was standing at the open trunk of her car, rearranging boxes. The door to the house was open and Sarah was leaning over a set of boxes with her back to us. Robbe leapt up the stairs into the house and yelled, "Hey!" I, of course, got into position with my "gun" pointed directly at her and a huge smile on my face. I waited for her to acknowledge us before I took my "Stick 'em up!" cue. As she turned around to look at us, I simultaneously surveyed the house and realized for that very split second that nothing looked familiar to me from the last time I was there. 

"What?! What?! What's going on?! Oh shit, what?!" The girl yelled as she made eye contact with both of us.

"Ssssstick---" I trailed and lowered my "gun."

"Oh my gosh," Robbe put his hand up. "I'm sorry."

It wasn't Sarah. Obviously. It was a brown-haired girl, yes, like Sarah's, but was not Sarah; nor was this her house. 

"I'm so sorry," Robbe said. "We thought you were someone else. We saw you from far away and you looked just like our friend and, ok, sorry." He backed out of the house with me already out the door. I added: "Her house is the next block down." Like that made the situation any better.

The guy who was at the car hadn't moved an inch. He just looked at us nonplussed as we started down the block and said, "It happens all the time." 

Words_Spring Fever

Yo, yo... yayayay yo. I like to greet my parents this way sometimes. Nine times out of ten it always results in a disgruntled reaction from them and I have no idea why. Is it because I do it at three in the morning? Who knows. Also, I'm 30. So, a few things have happened since I last posted, which was soooo one month ago ("cool" joke = 1). I've moved out of my house of four years. What I'll miss the most is, well, absolutely nothing judging from the last few months. Because when you find out one of your roommates is a flesh-eating robot, the only thing you can do is get the H out of there and move in with your parents. Yes, you know it's bad when moving back in with your parents at 30 is the sensible option. But seriously. The truth is, I have moved in with my parents: Lt. Dan and Jessica Rabbit. On my first day here, I got a migraine. Then I accidentally broke one of my mom's highly cherished mementos (which I fixed successfully...I think). I've also made it a habit to stumble through the door at 4 a.m. (7:30 p.m.) three sheets to the wind (parched for a glass of seltzer water), feel my way to my room and then completely pass out on my bed (peel back the covers and spoon with Carebear). This is temporary, mind you. And thank goodness because I don't know if I can handle wild night after wild night (fact: I went to bed before my parents last night).

What's Robbe doing you ask? Well, he's bacheloring it up at our new residence, that's what he's doing. Yours truly will be officially girling the place up come June 2 when we will be for better or for worse, wrapped tightly up like a Mexican burrito for the rest of our lives. "Why don't you just live together? That's a little old-fashioned, isn't it?" First of all, your face is old-fashioned. Second of all, here's my knowledge drop. One of my best friends put it perfectly recently when we were discussing failed relationships and her new outlook on life as we know it. "I'm just doing it God's way you know? I've tried it the other way and it sucks." It's as simple as that, folks. I'm not going to pretend I know what's better for me or for us; I'm leaving it up to the one who is, oh, just a wee bit wiser and a wee bit greater than little ol' me. (Does God have an Irish accent? I hope so.) Plus, I think Jessica Rabbit and Lt. Dan like having me around...when I'm not breaking their precious keepsakes (I swear it was an accident).

Words_March

If my blog were a baby, it would be sitting in the most offensive diaper, probably have unidentifiable crust growing on its face, and somehow be smart enough to be giving me the middle finger. Sorry, blog. It's not you; it's me. I'm the negligent parent. I'm the one who needs the spanking.

You can blame the neglect on planning wedding 2012, searching for a new place to live, finding a new place to live, breaking the news to my parents (and myself) that I'd be needing to move in with them, shuffling Robbe's and my things over to our new place, working late, trying desperately to multitask, making decorations, applying for a new passport, planning a rehearsal dinner that seems almost as big as our wedding, preparing to talk to people who we weren't able to invite to the wedding (eek), going through premarital counseling, attending Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University, learning to honor my parents, building an overdue relationship with my mom, managing waves of stress and trying not to take it out on Robbe, witnessing my dearest friends give so much of their time and love for me, cherishing my remaining single friends, anticipating the wonderful journey that is Robbe, seeing friendships blossom and others shift out of focus, giving up control, getting real, wondering what I really want to do in life, understanding my intense need for Jesus in every aspect of my life, and trying to take in every moment both crucial and insignificant leading up to June 2...

Like today. I went over to Robbe's house to start packing up his room. His best friend/man Andy and his wife were unexpectedly at the house and brought mimosas to celebrate our move.

Or my dad, who, after my nieces and nephews witnessed a science experiment, excitedly and authoritatively ordered them to: "Go home, get on the computer, and find a science." He meant to say "project" afterwards but didn't. Memory jar. 

Or reading the most beautifully written, bittersweet, heart and soul of a goodbye from Robbe to the people who love him, met him, knew him as the bassist from Farewell Flight, who supported him and took care of him, who fed him and encouraged him, who loved him in ways I will never know; these are the people whom he loved and still does dearly and will truly never forget. I couldn't be more proud or feel more honored to have someone like him supporting me and loving me for the rest of my life. He will always be so much more.

Words&Photos_Four

Received this sweet bridal shower invitation in the mail today and thought "suckerrrrr!!!!" after reading it. But seriously, I'm honored to be surrounded and supported by such a sweet group of older ladies (aka Mom's friends) who will probably end up praying over me thus making all my shower pictures a complete disaster because I'll be weeping the entire time which will result in a thorough mess of smeared makeup and someone will tell me "Oh, it doesn't look bad!"* when in reality I'll be so unrecognizable that people arriving late will introduce themselves to me and ask me: "So, how do you know Kimi? Are you her biological brother?"

On the bright side, I'm thankful that this invitation didn't have "zilla" at the end and wasn't written in the present tense, although I still have four months to go before I'm officially in the clear of assuming that title. 

Did someone say four months? I think a bottle of wine is calling my name. And what's really weird is that it's referring to me as "mommy."

*Whoever you are, you are dead to me