need a purpose?

Music is the absolute best. I’m all over the place with it and something that I think people from all walks are able to identify with. It’s so alarming when lyrics to a song seem so personal almost like they were plagiarized from my own life. Or when you hear something you’ve heard before but finds new meaning.

On that note, DC Talk is a personal fav. If you didn’t grow up with it you won’t appreciate the cool factor. Reflecting back it was nice that there was a band modern enough to get kids to listen to Christian music…let’s be honest back then there were few. It was also responsible from making us think we white kids could rap (Eminem who?).

After the many years I still get giddy when I hear them on the radio. Today I heard the Tobey Mac song “I Was Made To Love You”, certainly not the first time, but today it clicked. I love the message:

i was made to love you

i was made to find you

i was made just for you

made to adore you

i was made to love

and be loved by you

you were here before me

you were waiting on me

and you said you'd keep me

never would you leave me i was made to love

and be loved by you

Pure. Simple. Truth. All this running around and fretting who and I suppose to be and what should I be doing nonsense isn’t necessary. I was made to love Him and through loving Him I should love others and in addition another easily forgotten part of it is to let Him love me.

(just me)

Do you ever think, “Gawd, I’m a freak”? Seriously this isn’t about self loathing or anything but I have these moments daily and am continually comforted that I’ve managed to hide a fair share of my unusual tendencies this long. I’m serious; if people only knew half the things I say and do… I’m not sure if they’d be more amused or concerned.

Don’t expect me to share too many instances because this really is me appreciating the fact that I’ve flown under the radar and hope to continue to. For me it’s the outburst of song as if I were living in a musical or competing in American Idol. (Wha? I don’t even watch that show.) Yes. It happens…in the car, at home, at work, at the gym, well that is when I went to the gym. We’re talking loud, shameless, unnerving. It’s not entirely my fault. Somehow I’ve been given this internal soundtrack that flashes between Britney and Edith Piaf, in case you were wondering; uh-huh this does consist of other languages. Don’t feel too bad for me because I secretly kinda love it. It’s like I’m in my own little movie or better yet Truman Show with a tune that best suites my situation and/or emotion. Am I the only one?

Hopefully this isn’t too certifiable but sometimes I forget what I look like. Okay, that sounds stupid but I’m not sure how to reword it. Anywho, this is probably due to the fact I’m lost in some fantasy world I’ve been performing show tunes in, but sometimes I look at myself and think, “Oh, that’s me”. Almost posed as question. I find the projection of myself at times isn’t equivalents with my general appearance. Hmmm…I might be losing you. For instance, you get this great pair of heeled boots and next thing you know you’ve developed this superhero catwalk approach through the local grocery store. (I live for those sassy moments.) Then you get home catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and are reminded nope, no resemblance to Gisele still just me.

The conversations I have with myself or dogs. The late night make up experiments that must be showered off before work the next day. That fantasies of being someone a bit more interesting…

I’m comforted to know we all have freak- flags whether we let them fly or not. All these neurotic propensities and Rachel-isms are what make me this person that I often conceal but sometimes revel in.

a bunch of absolute nothing

Oy vey and Oy gevalt …in keeping with the little Yiddish I know, I pretty much schlep thru Monday and Tuesday this week. Totally bummed as I managed to catch a cold... I had made it thru 4.5 months of the season managing to ward off all germs and one trip to St. Louis did me in. Trying to be grateful as it’s only a “mild” cold but never the less debilitating. Maintaining the good juju that I’m already on the mend and fighting this thing like gangbusters.

I dunno if it’s because I’ve been feeling under the weather but I certainly haven’t felt like I’ve looked my best (major understatement), maybe more so than in a long while. I guess I’m posting this more for solidarity than anything but I have the overwhelming desire for a MAKEOVER. In an effort to take back my week, after not one but two days of trekking out in public in a disturbingly unattractive state, this morning I was determined to upgrade my look even if I had little to no energy. I’m a firm believe that if you feel good you will feel good…get me?

Being that a new wardrobe isn’t in the budget or even necessary I made up a “new outfit”, a combination of existing clothes and accessories that felt like new. I even decided to slab on some self tanner to warm up my look. Note to self: not something to be done when in a hurry. Potentially regretting the decision given some streaky bits around my wrist and ankles; oh well, nothing some lemon juice won’t erase. I even managed to run by the dreaded WalMart before work and grab some hair color. Okay this may never come to pass but I like the idea of having a little box of affordable excitement waiting under my sink whenever I get the itch. Then again I might be hasty tonight and lament it in the morning. Granted, it’s a lot easier to repair than the fleeting desire for home-made bangs.

Just a few thank you‘s that are proving to repair and brighten my mid- week:

Pandora for your almost telepathic mix of peppy, happy tunes, the steal of a deal $1 gallon of tea that simply warmed and poured in my favorite coffee cup to get a Starbucks-esque comfort, the family size bag of peanut M and M’s for on sale, my trusty collection of headbands to save me from actually doing anything to my hair, not sure who deserves the recognition but in possible collective effort my phone as been eerily yet comfortably silent today, and maybe just a bit preemptive but the option to have a pizza night when all else fails.

Fall so hard; Fade so fast

What in the world, seriously? I don’t know when and I don’t know how… never mind that’s a complete lie because I do know when and I do know how. Sometimes I feel so “grown-up” and changed, proud of the person I’ve been cultivated to become and then I have these major setbacks that threaten to destroy all my progress. Knowing full well right from wrong and recklessly choosing the latter is a disgustingly, selfish act. I thought I was past this?

My fate and His plans kept me from stumbling too far off course but I knew better, I KNOW BETTER. I am my toughest critic, my harshest competitor so these moments of relapse terrify me. My fear is due to the fact that sometimes my failures leads to utter abandonment…The crudest example I can think of is when you’re on a diet and you are overcome by desire and eat the chocolate cake. The one piece turns into practically the entire cake…then who cares. You’re off the wagon so you give up all together. I don’t want this to happen. I can no longer let discouragement condemn my future.

I can hardly bear this feeling and it’ll be awhile before it’s all washed away. Precious moments have been stolen from me and I am the only culprit…I take responsibility. I’m utterly heartbroken to go back and start over again but at the same time humbly perplexed that I have the gift of doing so.

cornbread mama

I’ve never done well with death. Well, who really does? The fact is that I’m not entirely familiar with it. I’m one of the lucky one that still have my grandparents, in fact my great-grandmother only passed a few years ago. I’m so fortunate but it has left me ill-equipped. Yesterday I found out an old friend died and have naturally been unsettled ever since.

I used to mentor her. As a youth leader we were encouraged to counsel the teenagers and have regular devotionals. Not being much older or even wiser made it seem amusing but the more involved I got I realized how much I’d experienced myself and maybe, just maybe, I could be an encouragement or even a poster child of what mistakes to avoid. I had a large group, a loveable bunch of misfits, predominantly emotionally scarred girls. Let’s face it most of girls weren’t able to leave our teenage years unscathed. It was a tough time; these beautiful, creative, intelligent, funny, witty girls were stuck in painful adolescence and I was helpless. Really, I was there to be a cushion of sorts, these tragic things were going to happen and it was inevitable that they’d be hurt but hopefully if they needed someone, I could be that someone.

It’s amazing how sheltered I was while they were exposed to eating disorders, self mutilations, sexual violence, etc…life was being put into perspective. Oh the stories I could tell you…I’m certain I have an entertaining as well as heartbreaking story about each one of “my girls”. Then there was Panda, such a character. She had a knack for always making me laugh. I never really understood why she wanted to be part of the “group”, she seemed so adjusted. Despite any setback she exuded confidence and was ALWAYS pleasant to be around (I wish the same could be said for myself) never the less we bonded.

When I found out she’d passed I was overcome with grief. In all truth she’s one of those people that I’d search for online but couldn’t find a mutual friend and her name was so common it’d need to sift thru 800 others. I fell a lot of regret…I knew there was no possibility of sleep but I laid in bed thinking about her. After a few hours I gave up and decided to look at old photographs. I found what I was looking for, pictures of her. I cried after the first few then I found one from my wedding, the last time I saw her. Then I burst out laughing, in true Panda style she was sitting indoors at a reception table with her shades on. That’s my girl, trying to be street and she knew I’d appreciate it. From then on it was mostly laughter with a few tears mixed in. I’m so lucky that my memories of her are filled with joy and we shared moments that I’m reminded of after all these years. For that I am grateful.

I wish that I’d had an opportunity to see her again before her death. I’d probably get a big Panda Bear hug with no I Love You’s needed and in my loudest fake ghetto voice shout “CORNBREAD” our favorite word.

taboo...just a bit

Okay, side note before I start…I just thought to myself “Whoa, Rach…Two for two? Back to back blogs? Better slow down before you get burnt out.” Then without hesitation the song Mustang Sally popped into my head…even more surprising is I know the words!

Let me let you in on a little secret, not something I’m prone to doing, I know. I think, I might, possibly, maybe, perhaps, someday want to be a mommy. And wow, seriously, I’m kinda freakin’ out now that that is out. This isn’t something I’ve ever seriously desired…I don’t know, I practically raised my brother and sister and my mom wasn’t the motherly type anyway so I guess my view has always been somewhat skewed.

This subject is something I desperately try to avoid in conversation even with my closest of close friends because it makes me so vulnerable and the answers aren’t simple. I despise, no not despise but I feel so exposed when every topic leads to the dreaded “you must be pregnant” that seems to follow every: I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m late… I am fully aware no one means harm in these statements but it’s hard enough without the constant quips. It’s not exactly like we’re trying so there isn’t any reason to be discouraged but as some of you know I suffered a miscarriage and for all the falsehoods I’ve told about my “condition” I believe I’m finally on the mend. So many people have suffered multiple losses and continue to forge on but I am weak, weaker than I’d like to admit. I don’t want to ever experience that level of physical and emotional pain again but it’s a risk that’s necessary. For all you followers, if there are anyway, no need to get wound up yet because this concept is still fresh and it’ll be some time before anything evolves.

The other night I was babysitting for a close friend and it was time to put Owen to bed. Owen is ten months old and was born a month after my due date I guess that’s why I feel a certain bond with him, a what-life-would-be-like connection which always makes me emotional but I’ve never confessed until now. Those moments with him, right before he went to sleep, were magical, merely feeding him his bottle and feeling the weight of him as he relaxed and feel asleep. I pretty much broke down, but in a good way, the best way. The night with the kids as a whole was chaotic but essentially purposeful and I took pleasure in the frenzy.

Now, I’m not ready to move on down to mommy-town but it is a future destination and that in itself is worth a celebration. Well there’s Somebody not entirely surprised by this and reminds me…Take delight in the LORD, and he will give you your heart's desires…Psalm 37:4

Motto. Mantra. Whateva.

I’ve been working on re-setting my habits, with a new concept of “Just Because I Can, Doesn’t Mean I Should” and I repeat it daily. I don’t need to join and anonymous groups or seek professional help but I am a spender. I’ve never been one to splurge, honestly I like the challenge of finding a deal, however I can be reckless.

The other day I was in the library, (you can rent movies for FREE there by the way) and I saw people in the internet room and I was overcome with sadness. Now, I don’t know their exact situation but I assume they were there looking for employment. Most are at least, and I was one of them a little over a year ago. For whatever reason, I felt overwhelmed by my own blessings and convicted at the same time.

When I was younger we didn’t have a lot. My mom was a single parent and work nights. We didn’t have much and at the time we didn’t know any better. Now that I’m older and have my own household I am able to recognize just how little we had. My siblings and I all started work at an early age and worked several more hours than our classmates, it never bothered us, but it allowed us to help support the family and “treat” ourselves. I think the idea was money translated into some sort of success or happiness, not an entirely foreign concept I know. Hopefully this isn’t distasteful but my husband and I have always had money, we’ve been able to travel and purchase things that we want without a lot of effort. We have good jobs and work hard for our earnings but here is the proposal: Just because we have this money should we be spending it? Our bills our paid, essentially no dept, our needs are met but what about the other stuff; the extras?

I spend maybe $50.00 a month of what-nots…coffee, nail polish, movies etc… not really anything I need. How is it I have “extra” money that I can spend without even a second thought? There are so many others desperately trying to just get by, it doesn’t feel right.
I’ve even adjusted my grocery shopping habits. I’m so fortunate that we not only have food but good, healthy, organic food that we enjoy eating. I’ve made it a point to use up the stagnate items in the fridge and pantry in order to create new meals and curb unnecessary spending. It’s actually been a rewarding process and you get that sense of accomplishment.

I realize I’m about 4 years late on the recession but being in a tourist locale has kept us in a bubble and the shockwaves have finally hit our area. There are so many people that have come here with their posh lifestyles that have help keep our little mountain town afloat but now we are catching up with the rest of the economy. This past month, mid-season mind you, the local government had several layoffs, Bed Bath and Beyond closed, Blockbuster closed, Borders closed, and several other stores including Old Navy (I could have cried over this one). All those people need jobs and in an area like this they are limited and commuting isn’t feasible.

Not exactly my most articulate post but this is what’s on my mind and has been very sobering. Maybe now that it’s in print I’ll have more accountability to achieve the goals I’ve set and adjust my routine.